Chapter Eleven
Emily
Sophie comes strutting in the store like she just won a million dollars, with Charlie cradled in one arm, while the other one holds her cellphone high like she’s doing an impersonation of the statue of liberty. She struts this way through the length of the store, straight to my pharmacy counter.
I frown at her as she gets close and point at Charlie. “You’re not supposed to hold him like that. He’s a baby, not a football.”
“Baby, football, same difference,” she says, though she still adjusts the way she’s holding Charlie. “Besides, you’ll never guess what I just got.”
“What?”
“The baby daddy’s phone number,” she says.
A tickle of jealousy runs through me. “Seriously?”
“He may have been uncomfortable handing the baby directly to me, and I may have used his discomfort to extract his phone number from him,” she says. Then she sighs. “I may also be high right now.”
“You’re high?”
“Mildly. Not in the clouds or anything, just, like, a foot or two off the ground. Say, do they sell burritos here? I could really go for some chicken chile verde right now.”
“Unfortunately, no. We’re a pharmacy, not a Mexican restaurant,” I say, trying to keep my voice even despite the whirlwind of emotions Sophie seems to have dragged in with her.
Sophie grins, unfazed. “Well, that’s just poor planning on your part. A burrito section would do wonders for business.”
“I’ll mention it to Carl,” I say, turning my focus away from my high-as-a-kite-even-though-she-will-never-admit-it friend and back to my research paper. It’s a slow night at the pharmacy, which I’m grateful for. Not only does it mean that I have time to actually focus on the important things — like my paper and on taking care of Charlie — but I also like to think it means that fewer people are hurt or sick right now, and that thought makes me feel warm inside.
Maggie’s voice rips my attention away from the paper. “Emily, is this the baby you called me about last night?”
“It is,” I say. I don’t even hesitate to tell her the truth; Maggie knows me well enough to know if I was lying. Besides, I like her, as both a mentor and a friend, and would never even consider lying to her like that. It’d be disrespectful to her and everything she’s done for me.
“Who’s baby is it?” She says.
It’s an innocuous question, but it sends a heatwave of fear racing through my body. I can’t lie to Maggie, but I also can’t tell her that the baby belongs to a likely criminal who is crashing in a vacant home with a cache of weapons and who held me at gunpoint several times the night before.
If she found out any of that, she’d try to take Charlie away and put him with child protective services. I have no idea how Hunter would react, though it’d probably end up with at least Maggie dead and him and Charlie disappearing into the wind.
I can’t let my boss be murdered, but I can’t lie to her, either.
Think, Emily!
“It’s mine,” Sophie says. “It’s my baby.”
“Yours?” Maggie says.
“Yeah, mine. Is it so hard to believe that I’d have a baby? I can have a baby, Maggie. I have all the necessary equipment and I enjoy the baby-making process.”
“But I’ve seen you around here all the time, Sophie, and you’ve never looked pregnant…”
“I have a life outside of you, Maggie. Are you jealous that I have a baby? Is that it? Look, if you want a baby, I can get you a baby. There are ways. It’ll just take a little time.”
“A little time? Sophie, what are you…? Are you suggesting that you’re going to steal a baby for me?”
Sophie laughs and shakes her head. “When I said ‘a little time’ I meant, like, nine months. Well, nine months and a weekend, since I’m single right now and I’d need to find a man. Anyway, Little Charlie is mine. I didn’t show much during pregnancy and I tried to hide it, too. I didn’t want it to affect my dating game.”
“So the father isn’t around?”
“No. The father was just some hot and dangerous guy who blew into town a little over a year ago and swept me off my feet and onto my back,” Sophie says, rocking Charlie in her arms and then blowing a raspberry in his tummy. “He’s a cute little bastard, isn’t he?”
“He is cute. Well, congratulations, Sophie, I’m happy for you. May I hold him?”
Sophie subtly looks to me, and I incline my head slightly. “Yes,” she says.
Then she hands him over like she’s passing a burrito and not a baby. My nails dig into the table. “He’s so cute,” I say. “And I’m so glad he’s feeling better.”
“Oh, look at the little darling,” Maggie says, cooing and baby-talking at Charlie. Then she frowns and places her lips against his forehead. “He’s flushed, though. And warm. I think he may have a fever. Did you take his temperature after you gave him the EpiPen? Or at least talk to his doctor?”
Sophie’s eyes dart to me again, and I feel a chill run down my spine.
“I might have forgotten that part,” she says.
Maggie’s frown deepens. “Sophie, he needs proper medical attention. An EpiPen can save him from an immediate allergic reaction, and he shouldn’t have experienced any further issues from that allergic reaction, but it won’t solve the underlying issue of his cold. We’ll need to take him to a doctor.”
The mention of the doctor sends a jolt of panic through me. If we go there, they’ll want information and records that we don’t have. Our story could unravel, and Charlie could be taken away.
“Maggie, I can’t,” Sophie says.
“Can’t? Sophie, if you don’t get your child the medical care he needs, I will report you. I have a duty, and I can’t just overlook that because you’re one of Emily’s friends. You have a responsibility to your baby, or else there will be consequences.”
I want to speak up, but I can’t. Every excuse, every story, every lie falls to pieces on my tongue.
Just as I’m about to open my mouth and confess, say that it was all my idea, my fault, and hope that somehow I can take the blame and ask Maggie to forget all this, Sophie laughs.
“Maggie, I work at an independent coffee shop in a small town. I’m doing the best I fucking can for my little angel, but my healthcare plan is ‘don’t get sick’ and my retirement plan is to die before I get old. I’m glad you’re concerned about my son, but you’re not his mother, so back off, OK?”
Maggie pauses and sets her lips in a firm line. This is it — I’ve been responsible for Charlie for all of fifteen minutes, and I’m going to lose custody of him. And what hurts me just as much as the fact that Charlie may be taken away is thinking about the look on Hunter’s face as I tell him the news.
Maggie fixes Sophie with a glare so cold that it freezes her in place.
“You can’t afford it? That’s why you’re not providing your baby the care that he needs?”
It’s all Sophie can do to nod.
Maggie reaches into a pocket of her lab coat and takes out her cellphone. When Sophie tries to say something, she holds up one commanding finger and there’s an audible click as her mouth slams shut. I can’t say anything. I can’t even move. All I can do is watch as everything falls apart in front of my eyes.
“That’s a big problem. You and your baby aren’t going anywhere until I’ve made this phone call.”