Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
We hang up not long after Papa stirs and calls my name. I help him have some water, answer the same questions I’ve answered a hundred times, reassure him until his breathing evens out again.
When I finally crawl into my own bed, the house is quiet in a way that feels less heavy than usual. North Carolina fills my thoughts, Josie’s laughter, playing hide and seek with Justice, a newborn’s weight in my arms, the promise of something different.
I stare at the ceiling, my mind drifting back to the night I only told her half of because how crazy would she think I was if she knew the truth. I met a man because he held me at gun point, kidnapped me to my own house, all to stitch him up. Then he returns to give me the best orgasm of my life all without ever stopping to get his name. Yeah, that makes me sound unhinged not responsible. The details I keep tucked away are because I’m certifiably insane. The way I never asked his name because somehow, in that moment, it didn’t matter. That makes me a lunatic.
***
ONE WEEK LATER
I worked four twelve hour days in a row. My whole body aches as I finally unwind in my bed. I turn onto my side and pull the blanket closer. A break, I tell myself. That’s all I need. And it’s coming soon. I fly out in four days to North Carolina for three weeks. I’ve never taken this much time off and I haven’t been away from Papa since before Nanny died. I know it will be a good reset, but I’m anxious to leave him.
I’m half asleep when my phone starts vibrating against the nightstand. Not ringing. Vibrating.
That alone snaps me awake. I fumble for it, heart already racing, and when I see Josie’s name my chest tightens like I already know.
“Hey,” I answer, pushing myself upright. “What’s wrong?”
Her breathing fills my ear—fast, uneven, unmistakable. “Danae. I’m—” She sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m in labor.”
Everything in my body goes still and electric at the same time.
“Okay,” I reply, immediately waking up. The nurse side of me kicks in on instinct. “Okay. How far apart are the contractions? On a scale of one to ten what is your pain level?”
“Close,” she pants. “Close enough that my husband is currently driving like he’s in a damn action movie. Pain is tolerable but I’ll be happy to have the epidural.”
I smile despite the rush of adrenaline. “I’m getting on a plane.”
“You don’t have to rush like this,” she says quickly. “We’re heading to the hospital now. You won’t make it in time for—ah—” She breaks off with a groan. We had planned it for me to be there for her scheduled induction the beginning of next week. I guess this little one has other plans.
“I know,” I reply softly. “But I’ll be there when you come home. That’s what matters. We got this Josie Mosie. Don’t you worry about me. You get that watermelon out so I can have baby snuggles and squeezes for you and Justice coming soon. I’ll even make sure I hug that man of yours that screams badass but I know he’s a big softy inside.”
“I can hear you, Danae. I’m a lot of things, soft isn’t one of them.” Dean challenges back.
There’s a beat of silence, then her voice steadies. “I’m really glad you’re coming.”
“Me too,” I reply, and I mean it with my whole chest.
We hang up minutes later. I sit there for exactly three seconds before I’m moving. I throw back the covers, grab my already half-packed suitcase from the closet, and start adding things with shaking hands. Clothes, toiletries, my phone charger. I move on instinct more than thought, my mind already skipping ahead to logistics.
I dial the home health agency as I pull on jeans.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly when someone answers. “I need to confirm care coverage starting this morning. Emergency travel.”
I rattle off details, dates, backup contacts. I make sure there’s redundancy, two alternates if the first aide on staff can’t make it. At least until Jackie gets here. Her flight is scheduled to arrive tomorrow, which looking at the clock is actually later today. So I take a deep breath. I can pick her up still, make sure she’s settled and introduced to the care team before I get on a plane out of here. Switching my flight to an earlier one shouldn’t be a problem. Making sure all of the caregivers are lined up is the priority. I know they are sick of me calling and verifying, but I need to know my cousin has help. I don’t hang up until I hear the confirmation in their voice, until I know Papa won’t be without the people he’s used to.