Thirty-one missed calls. Fifty-four text messages.
I remember checking my phone as soon as I got out of the meeting this morning, and aside from the usual “I love yous”exchanged with Nisha, there wasn’t anything urgent. And then I had to go and leave the damn thing behind!
“Shit.” My vision blurs as I scroll to the messages, all saying similar things, starting almost two hours ago.
Little Borealis
Patton, where are you? I need you to get to the hospital now! The baby is coming.
Little Borealis
Patton, please pick up! No one can find you, and I’m really worried.
Sarina Arora
Patton, please call back. Nisha needs you. She’s in labor.
Piper Menon
Dude! WHERE ARE YOU?? Once this baby is out, Nisha is going to spin-hook kick your face!
My throat tightens until every breath feels like it’s being forced through a straw, and my world feels like it’s shrinking to the point where I think I might faint.
Two hours.
Two hours of contractions, of pushing, and doing it all without me. My head swims.
How could I not have been thereagain?
I can only imagine what she must be thinking; how her past fears must all be rushing back, reminding her of all the times I wasn’t there before. My chest burns with both shame and anger at myself.
For almost eight years, I made it a mission to cross off every wish she left me on that list. From the moment I moved in acrossthe street from her, I wanted to ensure she knew she had all of me, and that there is nothing more important to me besides her. I’ve shown up, laughed until we cried, and made damn sure to be there every step of the way, no matter how big or small the moment.
And now I just threw her back into the same cyclone of fears I swore I’d end.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I hit her contact number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I’m not sure of the words that stumble through my lips, some rushed out garbage apology that I deserve getting punched in the face for.
Then I call Sarina, then Piper. When neither answer, I dial Troy before I can think better of it.
“Patton, what the fuck!” Troy answers on the second ring. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Are you at the hospital?” I snap.
Fuck, is the baby here? Has everyone gotten to the hospital before me? Did I miss the birth of my kid all because I left my fucking phone in the car?
“I’m on my way, asshole, but why the fuck aren’t you there? Everyone’s been looking for you.”
I throw my ball cap to the ground. “Long story. I’m heading there now. Can you just tell me—” I take in a sharp inhale, scared to even ask. “Did she . . . did she already have the baby? Did I fucking miss my daughter’s birth?”
“I don’t know. Sarina said Nisha’s contractions were getting worse half an hour ago, but I haven’t heard from her since. But, Patton? You better hope they gave her the good drugs, because with this shit that you just pulled, she’s going to murder you.”
Yeah, and I deserve it.
As soon as I hang up, a pair of footsteps crunch behind me.
“Patton?” My mother’s small voice is laced with worry. “Is everything okay? Can I help in any way?”
