“Never too busy for you.” I slip off the couch and head into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “How are you feeling?”
We have always been close. I hate that she lives so far away, but when she married Jonah, her high school sweetheart, the Army took them away from our small town Arkansas life. We have stayed in touch and I visit her as often as I can. Especially when Jonah first died and she was raising little Justice alone. She’s got a new man now, Dean. I don’t know him well and I look forward to my upcoming visit to get to know him better. They are expecting their first child together and I am beyond excited for my cousin. No one deserves happiness, protection, peace, and love more than Josie.
She laughs, short and tired. “Like I swallowed a watermelon whole and it’s fighting sitting tight refusing to come out.”
“That good, huh?”
“I dropped a sock earlier and just stood there staring at it,” she shares. “Trying to decide if it was worth bending over. And for a brief moment, considered just leaving it for Dean to pick up.”
“And?”
“It’s still on the floor.” We both laugh.
“I’m sure he won’t mind.” I reassure her.
She lets out a happy sigh, “he tells me to stop doing the laundry. He even tried to hire someone to come do the shopping and clothes and all the things. I said, I’m pregnant, Dean, not dying.”
I grin, picturing her kitchen in North Carolina, her hair probably shoved up into a messy knot, belly round and unapologetic. I miss her in a way that settles deep in my chest. I am beyond happy for the love she has found with Dean.
“I wish I were there,” I tell her the truth. God, how I wish I was with her for all the moments.
“I know. Soon, though. Once I have the baby we can come there.” Her voice softens. “What’s up? You don’t usually sound so somber.”
I glance toward the living room, making sure Grandpa hasn’t stirred. “I wanted to talk to you about coming down. I need a break, a little reset.”
Her breath catches. “You mean, you might come here?”
“I talked to my boss today,” I share. “I can take a couple weeks off, starting right after the baby’s born.”
“Oh my God, Danae.” Her voice cracks. “Are you serious?”
“Completely serious. I’ll help with the baby, cook, clean, do laundry, whatever you need. You’ll be sick of me by the end. And I’ll have time with Justice and new baby snuggles to reset me to come back to work and Gramps.”
“I will never be sick of you,” she replies immediately. “You have no idea how much that helps just my mind and emotions.”
I do, though. Because I need it too. A reason to leave my house without guilt. A change of air. Somewhere I can be useful without being responsible for someone’s entire existence. I love my grandpa, Papa to me, Josie, and Jackie. I appreciate that my grandparents took me in and raised me after my mom’s death when I was eight. I just never anticipated losing my grandmother and being left to be my grandfather’s caregiver. Josie’s mom abandoned the family years ago after basically running away with the circus. Okay, not the circus, but they joined a cult and anyone who didn’t align with their new lifestyle got left behind.
Josie’s sister isn’t here anymore, Jackie did help when she was in the area. She moved to California with her wife to chase their dreams of dancing. Josie is obviously hours away, sixteen hours to be exact if traffic is light with no wrecks on the interstates. It landed on me and I don’t regret it. But I rarely get time to pour into myself. I really never get time away from him and a chance to let go of the responsibility for a bit.
“I could use the break,” I admit.
“How’s Papa?” she asks gently.
I exhale. “Up and down. Nights are getting worse. He gets confused, sometimes angry. Some days he knows exactly who I am. Other days he looks at me like I’m a stranger in his house.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers and I know she struggles with being so far away.
“It’s okay,” I state automatically, because that’s what I always say. “I’ve got it handled.”
“I know you do,” she replies. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”
Her words land heavier than she probably realizes. Josie has always had a way of seeing through me without trying.
We talk logistics after that, flights, dates, where I’ll sleep now that the guest room is a nursery. I tell her I don’t care if I’m on the couch. She tells me she’ll argue anyway. She talks about the baby’s clothes folded neatly in drawers, the crib her husband put together like it was sacred work.
“He reads to my belly every night,” she shares fondly. “Like the kid can hear him already.”
I smile. “That’s really sweet.”
