“Damn,” he grunts.
A grin tugs at the corners of my lips. “Something wrong?” I ask.
“I like it when you kiss me, but I don’t like it when you use your kisses to evade my questions,” he says quietly. He squeezes me in a gentle hug.
“I wasn’t evading,” I choke out. But I swallow hard trying to get past the lump in my throat.
“Yes, you were. And I don’t hate it.” He chuckles softly. “I might even understand it, if you’d let me in. But don’t use my feelings for you as a smoke screen for what’s really going on between us, okay?” He squeezes me again.
“What’s going on between us?” I ask, my voice cracking only slightly.
“I’m getting to know you,” he says, very matter-of-factly. He tips my face up with the gentlest of touches. “I want to know you,” he says directly. “Everything.”
I shake my head. “You wouldn’t like what you find out.” He would hate me. Family is everything to him and I gave mine away.
“Try me,” he says.
I hold on to his waist—he still has his arm around me—as the subway comes to a stop. He looks down at me for a second too long, long enough for me to see his brow furrow and the little vee form between his eyebrows.
“What are you hiding?” he asks.
“Everything,” I whisper. But I say it more to remind myself than to tell him anything he doesn’t know. I’m hiding everything.
I pull him out the door and into the station, and we race to the top of the steps. “Friday,” he calls when I’m a few steps in front of him. “You have to at least give me a chance.”
I pretend like his voice gets caught on the wind, but it doesn’t. It sinks deep inside my heart, and hope blooms. Hope blooms in a place where no light has lived in a really long time.
I thought it was difficult being on the subway and having Paul ask me so many questions, but that was nothing compared to the memories that swamp me when walk into the maternity ward.
Paul
I let Friday walk ahead of me into the hospital because I feel like she needs to take a break from my probing. Don’t get me wrong. I want to know everything about her. But I don’t think she likes my prying.
I feel as though I’m opening the plastic top on a brand-new can of coffee grounds. I open it and the sweet essence of what’s inside seeps out and makes everything smell nice, but then someone comes along and slams it shut again. The bad thing is that Friday is the one who keeps slamming her own fucking coffee can lid closed. I get one second of the essence of her, and then she slams it shut again. Then the wonderful smell of her is gone, and all I can see is this really pretty can. The can is full—I know that much. But opening the can and having it stay open… That’s going to be a lot harder.
We meet Pete, Sam, and Reagan on the way into the hospital. “Did you just get here?” Pete asks. He has a bag filled with what I assume are Emily’s things over his shoulder.
“Just walked in the door,” I tell him, and I clap him on the shoulder. “We need to find out where they are.”
But Friday nibbles her thumbnail and motions us toward an elevator. We follow her and go up to the floor she punched. We get out, and there are pictures of babies on the walls and nurses walking around in scrubs with pacifiers and rattles on them. And dogs. And cats. Lots of cats. But I’m pretty sure we’re in the right place because pregnant women are walking by us pushing IV poles.
We stop at the desk and she asks, “Emily Reed?”
The nurse smiles and motions us forward. We follow her to a small room, where Em is sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a hospital gown. She jerks the rear of it closed, and Logan walks around behind her to tie it. He smiles, but she doesn’t really look that happy to see us. I hand Friday the bag and motion for Pete and Sam to follow me. Reagan and Friday walk into the room, and the door closes behind them.
“Why can’t we go in?” Sam asks, looking like a kicked puppy.
“Because she’s going to have a fucking baby, numbnuts,” I tell him. I shove him into the waiting room. A minute later, Logan comes out, wringing his hands.
“She kicked me out,” he says.
I swipe a hand across my smile. “Why?”
He glances toward her room. “Reagan and Friday are getting her dressed.” He paces from one side of the room to the other. “And they’re washing the basketball off her belly.”
I wave my hands wildly so he’ll stop long enough to look at me. “What did the doctor say?” I ask, when I finally have his attention.
“Oh,” Logan says, scratching his head. “Four centimeters.” He holds up four fingers. “One hundred percent effaced.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Pete asks. “Is something wrong with its face?”
Logan goes and sits on his lap and bounces on top of him. “No, dumbass,” he says, when he finally stops. Pete is moaning and making funny noises from below him. “It means her cervix is ready.”
Pete shoves him and says, “Eww. I don’t want to talk about Emily’s cervix.”
Reagan sticks her head into the waiting room. “Paul,” she says, crooking her finger at me. “Emily wants to talk to you.”
“What about me?” Logan asks.
Reagan waves him off impatiently. “Not yet,” she says. Logan’s face falls.
“Do you mind?” I ask him, pointing toward the room where she’s waiting. She’s his wife, after all.
He shrugs and goes to the window to glare out it. There’s nothing but a cement wall outside that window, so I know he’s not enjoying the view. He’s hurt.
“Come on,” Reagan says, waving at me impatiently.
“Holy hell,” I mutter to myself.
I open the door cautiously and stick my head in. “Did you need something?” I ask. I try not to even look at her. But she barks at me.
“Get in here,” she says.
I walk in, my feet tentative against the floor, barely making a sound. I jab my hands in my pockets and wait.
“I need for you to take care of Logan,” she says. “I don’t want him to miss anything, so wherever he is, can you try to stay with him? Translate. Don’t let him miss a word. I will do as much as I can, but I’m afraid I’m going to get busy.”
That’s all she wanted? “Okay.” I scratch my head again. “You don’t mean I have to be in the room, do you?”
“Not for the actual birth, no,” she says, blowing out a breath. “But if anything goes wrong, you have to promise to stay with him. Promise you won’t leave him.”
That’s a given. “I promise.”
“You’re going to stay the whole time, right?” she asks.
You couldn’t pry me away with a tire iron. “Yes.”
Emily’s face tenses, and she takes in several slow breaths.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask.
Her face relaxes after a moment, and she looks up at me. “Go get Logan.”
“Thank God,” I say as I turn around and go get my brother.
But I have to give her credit. Even when she’s hurting and scared, she’s thinking about my brother and what he needs. My gut clenches. I want that for myself. I want it now.
Logan shoulders his way past me and glares at her. “I’m not leaving again,” he says to her.
She nods. “I know.”
“No matter what you say,” he goes on.
“I just needed to do something. I wanted it to be a surprise.” She holds her hand out to him. “I meant to do it later, but time got away from me, and then I realized that I hadn’t done it yet, and I was almost out of time. And so Friday helped me with it.” She motions for him to take her hand again. “But first we had to wash that stupid basketball off.”
A grin tugs at the corners of my lips when she lifts her hospital gown and I see that the ball is gone. She’s wearing a pair of Logan’s boxer shorts for now, but her belly is huge and she looks like the timer on her chicken has popped. Across her belly are the words, “My name is
Catherine. And I’m my daddy’s girl.”
“You finally picked a name?” Logan asks. He puts his hand on her belly and draws out the letters. It’s made like his tattoo that says, “My name is Emily.” It’s the one he got when he found out her real name.
“That name was your favorite, right?” she asks.
I know it’s more than just his favorite. Catherine was our mom’s name.
He nods, and I see him swallow really hard. “Kit,” he says.
“Kit,” she repeats. Her voice cracks. There’s so much history between them with regard to that nickname.
Oh holy fuck. They’re going to make me cry.
I look around, and I don’t see Friday in the room. “Hey, where did Friday go?” I ask.
They don’t even look up at me. Logan pulls Emily into him and presses his lips to her forehead, holding there for a long beat. Then he sets her back and looks into her eyes.
They’re not concerned with where Friday has gone, but I am.
Friday
They wouldn’t let me hold him after he was born. They said it would be easier that way. But none of it was easy. I remember sneaking from my room and going to the observatory window where all the little bassinets were safe behind the glass. There were so many babies in the nursery that night. All of them had names on the front of their bassinettes except the one I assumed was mine. I can still see him in my head sometimes. I never got to hear him cry. I never held him in my arms. But he looks like me with his dark hair. I know that much.
The baby in the window in front of me kicks his feet and turns a brilliant shade of red. I want to go in and hold him, but a nurse comes forward and picks him up. She gently coos to him and tucks him into the crook of her arm.
An arm slips around my waist, and I turn to look up into Paul’s face. I wipe the tears from my eyes that I didn’t even realize were there. My whole face is wet. Paul offers me his sleeve, and I shake my head. I wipe my eyes with my fingertips, sluicing the water from my face like windshield wipers.
“I love the belly art,” he says as he looks through the window at the babies with me.
A grin tips the corners of my lips. “It was her idea.”
“You did a good job.”
He doesn’t say more. He just looks at the babies.
“Do you remember the day Hayley was born?” I ask.
“Like it was yesterday. Kelly got pissed and kicked me out, and then she begged and pleaded for them to find me. Sam and Pete were at home because they had school the next day, and Logan was watching them. But Matt was here. He kept me steady.” He looks down at me and smiles. “Who kept you steady?” he asks, his voice quiet and soft.
I flinch. I don’t mean to. I can’t help it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay,” he says. He goes back to watching the babies. But his question lies there like a barrier between us, even though his arm is still around me and he’s so very close to me.
I heave a sigh. “Can you respect my decision and let it go?” I ask. “Please?”
“I can and do respect your decision, but I can’t let it go,” he tells me. “I’m sorry, but it’s such a big part of who you are.”
“It’s not, though. It’s just a blip in time.”
“It’s not a blip, Friday,” he says. His voice grows a little louder. “It’s part of you, and it always will be. I’m not going to pry it out of you. But I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
“Are you going to let it come between us?” I ask.
“Are you?” he tosses back at me. Then he sees Matt walking down the hallway with Sky and their three kids, and he shows them to the waiting room.
He leaves me standing there watching the babies. Only I don’t feel completely alone. Not like the last time I was here.
I heave a sigh and stand there until the baby from earlier is back asleep. He smacks his lips together and dreams.
I had dreams once. Dreams of a family of my own. One that would stand by me no matter what. But no matter how strong my grasp, I just couldn’t hold on to it.
Paul
Logan lays his ear on Emily’s belly and swears he can “hear” Catherine’s heartbeat. Emily laughs and threads her fingers into his hair. The doctor gave her an epidural about an hour ago, and she’s a lot more comfortable now than she was before. She was in a lot of pain. She has been laboring for about five hours and hasn’t gotten very far until now.
The nurse dashes into the room, gives her a quick exam while I look out the window, and calls for the doctor. “It’s time,” she says.
Friday goes to Emily and whispers something to her, and Emily’s eyes fill with tears. I want to ask her what she said, but I suppose it can wait. The doctor rushes into the room, and the nurse leads me and Friday—the only ones who were allowed to be in the room with them—back to the waiting room. The only reason we got away with staying as long as we did was because Logan told them he needed a translator. He doesn’t. He does fine without one. But it worked. And Friday got to stay, too.
Logan had me run Emily’s parents out of the room a couple of hours ago. They were just too excited and too worried for Emily to be any help.
Logan doesn’t need me for this part, but it’s really hard letting him grow up and be a man all on his own. I fucking raised him. And I don’t think I’m ready to be done yet.
Friday takes my hand in hers, and we walk into the waiting room. Pete is asleep in a recliner with Reagan tucked into his side. He’s snoring, and I think she is too. Sky is awake, and she’s drawing circles on the back of Matt’s hand while he talks softly to her. His hand lies on her belly, and there’s something so beautiful about it that I can’t look away. Their girls are asleep on a blanket at the their feet. Joey and Mellie found out the baby was on the way and there was nothing Sky and Matt could do to keep them at home. Seth is standing by the window drinking a soda.
Sam is asleep on the sofa. His feet are up on the back of it, so I sit down in the empty space that’s left. I motion for Friday to sit in my lap. She perches on the arm of the couch beside me instead.
Emily’s dad leans forward. “What’s going on?” he asks.
I grin. “It’s time,” I say. I can’t stop smiling.
Mrs. Madison claps her hands together. “I can’t wait!” she cries.
Matt rolls his eyes behind her, and it makes me grin.
Friday threads her fingers in my hair, a lot like the way Emily did to Logan a minute ago. I close my eyes and enjoy the fact that she’s touching me. That she wants to touch me. It means something to me. Especially when I feel like my guts are hanging on the outside of me because I’m so fucking nervous for Logan.
I reach out and pull Friday into my lap, and she settles her head against my chest. She nestles into a spot, snuggling with me, and then she tilts her head back and looks up at me.
“Wait!” Sam says, lifting his head.
“What?” I ask. I force myself to look up at him.
He motions from Friday to me and back. “Are you guys a thing now?”
I grin and look down at her. She worries her lower lip with her teeth. “Are we a thing?” I ask her.
“We’re a thing,” she whispers to me.
My heart trips a beat. I press my lips to her forehead and linger there, and she makes a soft noise. It’s almost like a purr, and I find that I really, really like it.
I tip her face up and press my lips to hers.
“God,” Sam complains, “it’s so fucking weird watching you two be a thing. You make me want to throw up.”
I smack his leg. “Watch your mouth,” I say. I move my eyes toward Emily’s parents, but her dad just shakes his head and laughs. He likes us a lot more than he used to.
“Sorry,” Sam grumbles.
“Kids,” Mrs. Madison says, commiserating with me. “What can you do? Mine ran away from home, fell in love, and made a wonderful life for herself.”
“They’re happy,” I say. Friday yawns, and I fe
el her hot breath through my shirt. I sit up a little so I can draw her even closer.
Suddenly, Logan runs into the room. “She’s here,” he says, signing at the same time. But he’s so fucking excited that his hands are flying wildly. “Eight pounds, two ounces, and she’s twenty inches long. And she’s perfect.” He stops to take a breath. “I just cut the cord, and it was disgusting and awesome all at the same time.”
His eyes are shiny with tears, and he dashes his hands across his cheeks. He leaves to go back to Emily, and the door shuts with a swoosh behind him.
I swallow hard because my heart is in my throat.
“You did good,” Friday says quietly. She tips my face down and kisses me. “Really good.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I say, surprised to hear how gravelly my voice is.
“You did everything,” she whispers, and I feel her tears against my shirt. I hold her to me because I have a feeling this has a lot more to do with her past than Logan’s present. “You did everything they needed.”
“Can I be what you need, too?” I ask.
I feel her nod against my chest. And my fucking heart takes flight. She can keep her secrets if she needs to. But I’m here to take her burden if she wants that, the same way I take theirs. Because she’s family. My family.
Friday
Is it terrible that I don’t want to hold Catherine, aka Kit? I watch as Mellie and Joey both take a turn holding her, with Matt bracing both of them in his strong arms. He’s so gentle with his daughters, a lot like Paul is with Hayley. Seth waves the baby away, though he does present Emily and Logan with a coupon book for a dozen diaper changes that can be used in the future.
“Preferably before she starts to eat solid food,” he says with a laugh.
Logan shoves him, and then he pulls him in for a hug. Seth has become a part of the family. Sky takes the baby next, and she props her up on her big belly and looks down at her. “She’s so beautiful,” she breathes.