31. Chapter 31
“Why does it have to be so cold?” Monty grumbles as he breathes into his hands and pulls his jacket collar tighter around his neck.
“Monty, you’ve lived in this city for like seventy-five years—”
“Whoa, there. Let’s just take it down a notch,” he cuts me off mid-insult.
“Fine, fifty-something years. Whatever. Point is, you know we’re practically in Canada. You should be used to it by now.”
We are standing on the side of the courthouse waiting for a perp to come out from his arraignment. No cameras are allowed inside the building, so we’re part of the news calvary that will descend on the suspect once he’s led out by police.
But the side of the courthouse is in shadow, which makes the early winter cold even that much more frigid. Weather in western New York is unpredictable. Sometimes we don’t get snow until the beginning of the year. Other times, we may get a Halloween blizzard. Easter could be spent in flip-flops or snow boots.
Currently, we are living in the tundra.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I check it, seeing I have another text from Emily. She’s been bugging me to come over to Clyde’s house to help decorate for the holidays. I miss him, and her, and I want to see her before she pops out baby number two—which will be any day now—but I’m a little nervous about going over to the house.
As I put the phone back in my pocket, the side door swings open, and I step to the side to allow Monty to get a good shot of police leading a cuffed and shackled suspect along the sidewalk toward an idling cop car at the front of the building.
“Showtime,” he says, and I hear the shutter of his camera going wild.
After heading back to the office to file the story, I decide to head over to Clyde’s. I miss them. They are my family, too, damn it. On the way over, I call my mom from the car, realizing I had been neglecting my own family, as well.
“So, needless to say, the ladies in my book club all have filthy minds, and I love it!” her voice booms through the Bluetooth as she tells me about a smut book she’s reading. This is her first venture into “adult” reads.
“Mom,” I begin, suppressing a laugh. “I would like to officially welcome you to the dark side.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” she gasps from the other side of the line, then gives a booming laugh. “You’re too much. You and your sister are really keeping me on my toes.”
“How is Leanne?” I ask, as I turn onto Clyde’s street, the sight of the familiar houses making me feel warm and cold at the same time.
“She’s great! She and Kirk are loving the warm weather. Not like the winter wonderland you’re in right now.” Leanne and Kirk moved to Florida two years ago.
“They came over for dinner the other night, and she said something about introducing me to a new member of the family, and I thought maybe she was going to tell me I was finally going to be a grandmother, but it turns out they got a dog.”
I pull into Clyde’s driveway and put the car in park. “If they wanted a dog, I would have gladly sent them mine,” I say, pulling the visor down and checking my face in the mirror. “Anyway, look, Mom, I have to go. I just got here.”
“Yes, go,” she says. “And Lizzie?”
“Yeah?”
Mom pauses for a moment. “I’m really glad you still have family up there. You know, despite what you and Knox are going through.”
I swallow. “Yeah. Me too.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, too.”
I sit in my car for ten minutes, just looking at the familiar surroundings. The porch swing, the garden. Even though I didn’t “grow up” here, I still feel like a big part of me was shaped by this family and this house.
Finally turning the car off, I exit the vehicle just as Emily opens the front door. “Lizzie? How long have you been sitting out here?”
“I was just finishing up a call with my mom,” I half-lie. Then, assessing her in just a blue Star Wars T-shirt and jeans, chide her. “Emily, it’s like sixteen degrees out here. Put on a coat.”
“Girl, I’m sweating.” She throws her arms out to her sides, her huge belly protruding out in front of her as she waits for me to ascend the stairs and hug her. “Hurry up, I’m way too pregnant to be meeting you halfway,” she says as I close the distance as she pulls me into a hug, as if there isn’t a beach ball between us.
“Jeez Louise.” I pull back and assess her body. “Look at this thing.” I put my hands on the shirt stretched taut over her stomach. “It’s hard!” I gasp as the feeling.
“Yeah, I kinda forgot what it’s like, you know, from the last time,” she says as she rubs her hands around her belly ball. “Crazy, huh?”
“Definitely not normal.” Obviously, I never made it far enough in my pregnancy to know what it’s like to have an actual fully developed human inside. I keep poking her as I ask, “So, you’re due like, any day now, right?”
She lets out a breath and puts her hands on her lower back, looking like she’s supporting her weight. “Yes, and Samuel was early, so there’s a good chance this little bugger will be, too. And, honestly, I’m ready. I keep doing things like—” and then Emily drops down into a squat and pops back up “—this.”
“No, no. Don’t do that,” I say nervously, putting my hands out toward her, ready to help her off the ground if she gets stuck.
“And this,” she says as she does a few high knees on the porch. “Emily! I am not qualified to deliver a baby on the front porch, so please wait until Bram gets here to expel that thing, OK?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Anyway, is Samuel here?”
Emily shakes her head. “My mom took him to the movies.”
“Damn,” I say. I miss that kid. “What about Bram?” I continue, knowing he still, after all this time, doesn’t like being home without his mom here. “Is he around?”
“He’ll stop by after work. He said he’d text me when he and Knox leave, in case you didn’t want to be here when they get here.” She looks at me nervously. “I’m not sure how things are between you two, so …” Her trailing off indicates she wants to know.
I sigh. “I honestly have no idea how things are. Weird, I guess. Things are weird.”
“Hey,” she says, throwing her hands up. “I’d cut Bram’s balls off and keep them in a jar on my mantle if he, well, you know …” Again with the trailing off. This means she —like everyone—found out what Knox did, and she feels bad for me. Embarrassed for me, even.
I then hear Clyde come to the door. “Emily, stop hogging her!”
I walk right into Clyde’s open arms. “Hi, Dad,” I say, and damn if tears don’t threaten. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Knox started sleeping on his couch.
“My son is the stupidest son of a bitch on the planet,” he says into my hair, and it causes me to laugh.
“No argument there,” I say.
We pull away from one another, and Clyde takes each of us by the hand. “It’s good to have both my girls here,” he says, pulling us inside. “Let’s get out of the arctic air, shall we?”
“Is this the one Knox made in elementary school?” I ask as I pull a wooden clothespin reindeer ornament out of a box and hold it up. The eyes are uneven, and the red puff nose is off to the side.
“No,” Emily answers before Clyde can. “Bram made that one. This,” she holds up another ornament, “is one Knox made.” It’s a little log house made from shaved down popsicle sticks, with pieces of tree bark as the roof and toothpicks outlining the windows and door. Tiny pebbles are glued to the edges to give it detail. It’s beautiful.
Taking it from Emily, Clyde inspects it. “He’s always been a talented little shit.”
That gets a laugh out of all of us.
“Anyone want tea?” Emily asks as she starts to waddle her way out of the living room and toward the kitchen. “My stomach is a little …” She puts her hand out and teeters it this way and that, indicating it’s a little upset. “I think tea might help.”
“I’ll get it,” Clyde says as he jumps up. “You sit!”
“Oh stop!” Emily waves him off. “I need to move.”
Clyde and I go back to decorating the tree as he asks me about work, my mom and sister, and if there’s anything I need done around the apartment. It feels good talking to him. I’m just finishing up telling him about how Kennedy chewed through the leg of the couch when Emily calls from the kitchen.
“Uh, guys!” she says.
“Yeah,” we answer in unison, Clyde is adjusting a ball ornament on the side of the tree as I turn toward Emily’s voice and see her appear in the doorway.
She’s just standing there, arms up, bent at the elbows, a mug in one hand, and she’s looking down at herself, then up at us. Then back down at herself, and back up at us.
It takes a minute, but then I see her pants are wet. “Oh, shit,” I say as I rush over. “Did you spill hot tea on yourself? Did you get burned?”
“Um, no,” Clyde says from behind me. “That’s not it, Lizzie.”
I look back at him, then back at Emily, and I whisper. “Did you pee? I hear that happens sometimes when you’re carrying a watermelon on top of your bladder.”
“Uh, nope, not that,” Clyde says, now standing next to us.
I look at Clyde, who is looking at Emily, who is looking down at herself. Then I bounce my stare back and forth between the two of them before it hits me. “Oh!” I gasp. “OH SHIT!”
“Yeah,” Emily says with a nervous laugh.
“OK. OK. Let’s just stay calm,” I say, although I seem to be the only one not calm. “Um, so I assume we should get to the hospital?”
“Yeah, we should definitely make our way there,” Emily says. “But we’ve got time. Let me get washed up. I think I have a change of clothes here.”
“You sure?” I ask, having no idea how this works.
“Yes, I’m not having any contractions, yet. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can drive me to the hospital?”
“Of course,” I say. “I’ll start warming up the car now. You coming with us?” I turn to Clyde as Emily waddles down the hallway.
“I think I’ll sit this one out,” he says solemnly.
“You sure? If you get there before Bram does, you could be the first to hold the baby. He’d never let you live that one down,” I try to joke.
Clyde smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Then he swallows. “I can’t go back there. To the hospital,” he says.
I didn’t even think about that. He must not have been back to that hospital since Monica died?
“Alright,” Emily shouts as she makes her way back toward us in dry pants. “Let’s get this party started.”
Clyde helps us out to the car and waves to us as we back out of the driveway. I press the button to activate the Bluetooth and say, “Call Bram.” After three rings he picks up.
“Lizzie?” I hear the question in his voice. “What’s up? Everything OK?”
“Oh yeah, I’m just here with Emily—”
“Hi, honey,” she says.
“Babe, what’s going—oh, shit! Is it time?” It’s as if he’s got telepathy, and he just knows.
“Yeah, it’s time.” She’s rubbing her belly next to me in the car.
“OK. OK.” I hear rustling and then a loud “woohoo!” and we all laugh. “OK, baby, I’m on my way!”
“Bram, listen, we’ve got time. My water just broke. I’m not having any contractions, yet, so just calm down. Meet me at the hospital, but don’t speed, OK?”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about me.”
“OK, I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I love you, Emily.”
She smiles a megawatt smile next to me as she continues to stroke her belly. “I love you, too. Even though I may be cursing at you in a few hours.”
I disconnect the call and continue toward the hospital. A few snowflakes have started to fall, but there is no real precipitation, for which I’m thankful. The last thing I need is to be stuck in a snowstorm while Emily has a baby in my car.