“Yes, sorry, I was caught up here and—”
“Sef’s water broke. They just left for the hospital. We couldn’t get ahold of you so Nik called Aleks, he’s driving them. The kids—”
“Wait, slow down. The hospital? Didn’t Sef want a home birth? Why—”
“There was blood,” Nadia whispers, then pauses for a breath. “I guess there’s not supposed to be? And, it’s still a little bit early. Nik was too freaked out to drive, and Sef, well, Sef was being Sef. Calm, as always. They left me with the kids, which is fine, but when the school bus came I’d only managed to get two of them dressed and none of their lunches packed so they’re all still here. I’m not fuckingmadefor this! I don’t know how to—”
“I’m on my way,” I say, interrupting her panicked monologue, which is still going on. “Breathe, Nads.”
“…and Nik said something about a delivery for the brewery? One that couldn’t be missed and that Aleks might not be back in—” I hear a kid scream and then burst into tears in the background. “Back in time to get the delivery. Nik wrote it down, somewhere, the note’s here, I just…” A crash, then another set of screams follows. “I don’t hear you driving!” she shouts into the phone.
“Sorry.” I open the bathroom door and begin walking toward my backpack on the floor, searching inside for car keys—there’s no time to collect my brushes or other items, I need to gonow.“I’m coming,” I tell her, rifling through my stuff. “Fuck,” I say, remembering that I walked over this morning. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” I hang up, looking desperately around for my shoes before finding them literally right under my nose.
It’s been a while since I ran, but I’ll run it for Nads. For those kids. I’ll do anything for them.
“Hey,” Prue says, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Is something—”
“My s-si-sister-in-law went into labor and th-th-there wasbloodand I-I-I need to get home and help with the kids or meet a delivery at the brewery or-or-or—” I inhale sharply, having lost my breath, but it’s no help. I start to feel black clouds come into my vision, tunneling it so all I can see is Prue’s worried expression. Clutching at my chest, I feel my heart racing as I try to catch my breath. “I didn’t…I haven’t…Nadia needs me.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll drive you,” she says, pulling her phone out of her dress pocket. She then lifts it to her ear, her hand on my shoulder squeezing and releasing in rhythm with my breathing I’ve somehow begun doing. “Hi, Dad, I need backup…Yeah, she’s fine. Trouble next door…Yeah, an hour, maybe…Thank you.”
“But your mom—”
“Dad’s got her,” she reassures me, slipping on a pair of wool clogs. “Get your shoes on.”
I swallow, refocusing. “Sorry,” I say, bending to tie my shoes.
“Don’t be.”
We pass Tom on our way out, who exchanges soft, understanding glances with Prue as she keeps pushing me toward the front of the property with her hand that’s not yet left my shoulder. We reach the parking lot, and she, the perfect gentleman, opens the passenger door for me before practically shoving me inside of her truck.
“You know how to drive a stick shift?” That is, for some reason, the question that falls out of my mouth when I buckle myself in.I love your truck,is what I should have said. It’s a two-door, baby-blue F-150 that must be as old as Bertha but starts without all my girl’s dramatics. Or, alternatively, I could have said,I’m freaking the fuck out and I hate that you’re seeing that.
Prue rolls her eyes, looking at her rearview mirror as she reverses out of the parking lot and onto the main strip of road toward my brother’s place. “I didn’t peg you as sexist, Milo.”
If I was in a better place mentally, I’d make a pegging joke. But tragically, this is not the time. “I would say that toanyoneas hot as you.”
She scoffs, then snorts, then laughs—none of which is exactly attractive butis,annoyingly, endearing. “Yeah, okay, sure.”
“I cannot argue with you about your level of attractiveness right now as I’m in the midst of a familial crisis, but please put a pin in that for later.”
Prue mimes sticking a pin into an imaginary corkboard in the narrow space between us before shifting gears and making a left turn into Nik and Sef’s long driveway. “Is she okay? Your sister?”
“Which one?”
“The pregnant one.”
“I don’t know. She normally has her kids at home. So…yeah…I hope so.”She’ll be okay,I tell myself, and, for whatever reason, I believe it. Sef is my brother’s well-deserved happy ending. The world is cruel, sure, but I still like to believe that people like Nik—good people—are rewarded. “She’ll be fine.”
“Right,” Prue agrees softly, looking up toward the house. “Wow, it’s cute.” I nod, caught up in thoughts of Sef and the baby and my not being there for my brother when he was too freaked out to drive. “Where should I park?”
“Just up there.” I point to the left of the house. Prue turns left at the fork in the drive and brings the truck to a stop next to Bertha. Then, unexpectedly, Prue turns the engine off, pockets her keys, and unbuckles her safety belt.
“Are you coming?” she asks, already halfway out the door, her brows knitted as she turns to face me.
I nod repeatedly and then follow her toward the front porch.
Inside, we’re greeted by a wall of sound. Running footsteps, a toy playing some echoey, eerie version of “Old MacDonald,” a commercial blasting from the television downstairs, andintermittent, excited screaming. Nadia and the children are nowhere in sight, but from what I can tell from themajorityof the sounds, it would seem they’re in the basement.
