Chapter 24 I Have a Baby on My Spine
I Have a Baby on My Spine
Fourth of July in Timber Creek was not for the faint of heart.
It was the busiest weekend of the summer, and one of Lainey’s most lucrative as a servant to the gig economy.
But this year, she would not be driving all over town for a quick buck, because her car was on life support in the middle of a VW dealership parking lot.
“It’s cooked,” Isaac’s dad announced with the steady, somber voice of a surgeon calling the time of death.
Isaac had texted her out of the blue, suggesting that his dad take a look.
He said it was the least he could do considering the number of times she’d jumped his car.
Lainey wondered if a certain husband of hers had suggested something to this effect, but she wasn’t going to argue.
Still, she brought an exceedingly pregnant Bree along to serve as her representative should the negotiation over repairs turn to haggling. Bree was an Olympic-level haggler.
“No. She can’t be dead.” Lainey refused to believe that her car was too far gone. “Not her. Not Daphne.”
Bree frowned at her. “You named your car Daphne?”
“I never had the opportunity to name her, but I would’ve if we’d had even a little more time together.”
“You know this is a very old car.” Isaac’s dad, Carlos, seemed confused, either over her grief or the notion of time cut short with a car that saw a majority of the first Reagan administration.
“I need this car. This car is how I make money, and due to a small error in judgment, it will soon be my home.”
“You’re not living in your car,” Bree interjected.
Lainey planted both hands on the green roof rail. “Mr. Segarra, I can’t leave this parking lot without this car.”
He stared at her, unmoved. “I’ll give you six hundred to strip it for parts to sell to collectors.”
Lainey couldn’t believe just how far she’d fallen.
She sighed. “I’ll do it for nine hundred,” she countered.
Carlos nodded and disappeared with his son into a maze of VW Golfs.
“This is a sign,” Bree announced, much peppier than the situation called for.
“Of what?” Lainey could only think of her immediate needs, which, first and foremost, was to cry on the hood of a red Jetta.
Bree cradled her belly and shifted her weight from foot to foot. “To take a leap. You literally have nothing to lose.”
“Please, kick me while I’m down. I’d love to see exactly how far I can burrow into the earth’s crust.”
“My parents bought a spa in Sweden, and I think you should go there.”
Lainey couldn’t process any part of that sentence. “For, like, a weekend?”
“No, to work.”
“I don’t think I can get a Swedish work visa to be a towel attendant.”
“We’ll make you a fancy title that sounds super essential.”
“I think that’s technically fraud.”
“So?” Bree arched her brow. “You’re not the only one capable of subterfuge. Come on. You can live in staff housing. Wasn’t the dream to travel and go on adventures?”
“Yeah, and I’m not sure working for your parents and sleeping in a bunk bed next to a woman named Ingrid counts as an adventure.” Was this happening? Was any of this real? “Sweden does have really good health care.”
She grinned, bouncing. “I know, right?”
And she’d need health care once Elliot got around to divorcing her. She figured it was only a matter of time.
“The idea of owing anything to your parents makes me feel icky inside.”
Bree grabbed Lainey by the shoulders and leaned in close until she occupied her entire field of vision. “Don’t think about them. Think about me.”
She couldn’t say out loud that the thought of relying on anyone, even Bree, made her feel ill. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to. Her friend could see it all over her face.
“Okay, so it turned out that Elliot wasn’t worthy of being on your team.
It doesn’t mean you were wrong to try. I’m really proud of you for trusting him, and you should be proud of yourself, too.
” Bree squeezed Lainey’s shoulders until there was no chance she’d be able to pull away.
“Don’t let this setback close you up again. ”
Lainey took a deep breath. Now that she knew she was capable of trusting someone, she only had to let go of a little of that toxic self-reliance she’d developed, not only out of necessity, but out of fear.
Fear that other people wouldn’t show up for her.
Fear that if they did, they’d take it back.
But trust didn’t have to be all or nothing.
She could decide to let certain people in.
She let out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll google Swedish work visas.”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe it.” Bree grabbed Lainey’s wrists in a one-sided giddy bounce that Lainey wasn’t joining in for, her face painted with genuine shock.
Was Lainey that bad at accepting help? “I can’t believe it.
I can’t be— Fuuu…” Bree’s curse tapered off into more of a feral howl.
She dropped Lainey’s hands, doubling over in pain.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Should I get help?”
“It’s just a contraction. They started this morning, but that one was a real doozy. They’ve been getting closer together for the past hour, so I’m probably a bit more dilated now. Should we check, you think?”
“Oh my god, are you in labor right now?”
She sighed, as though Lainey was the absurd one. “Labor is not nearly as dramatic as they make it look on television. I’m fine. Though—cards on the table—I did wet myself on the drive over here.” She grunted like a barn animal. “And now I’m wondering whether that was actually my water breaking.”
Lainey grabbed Bree’s hand. “Okay, we are taking you to the hospital. Where’s your car?”
“It’s getting detailed right now.”
“What?” Lainey was in a nightmare. A horror movie. “Why?”
“We’re at a car dealership, and I thought I peed in it.” This rendered Lainey speechless, which wasn’t easy. “What? It’s not like I’ll have time to deal with it when the baby comes.”
“You don’t have time to deal with it now!”
Another curse was swallowed in another contraction.
“Bree, those were really close together.” Lainey scanned the sea of cars in search of any other human she could wave down. “I’m going to run into the showroom and see if they’ll let me borrow a car.”
Bree shook her head as her hands rifled through her sling bag. “They only let you drive the car if they think you’re going to buy it.”
“Then I’ll say I’m buying a car.”
“No one’s going to believe that. You’re wearing shorteralls!”
Lainey stepped up onto the running board of a white SUV but still saw no one. Only rows upon rows of cars they couldn’t drive. They were dying of thirst in the ocean of responsibly priced German automobiles.
“I’m calling an Uber,” Bree said, tapping her phone screen.
“I’m the Uber driver, and we are standing next to the hunk of scrap metal formerly known as my car.”
She held up her screen. “Then why does it say our car is two minutes away?”
The realization hit Lainey like a slow, easy wave cresting onto shore. “Is the driver’s name Elliot?”
Bree scrutinized the screen, breathing through her teeth.
A silver four-door pickup pulled into the dealership lot, serpentining the rows until it stopped directly at their feet.
In the seconds before the door flew open, Lainey’s mind—for some tortuous reason—went to Mr. Rodkey, her high school art teacher, who loved to bully her into displaying her work by weaponizing the same phrase he’d had burned into a wood plaque and mounted to the wall: Art isn’t complete until it is perceived.
For years, she’d been hiding her art in the woods, never to be observed and never to be complete.
It was comforting that nothing she worked on could ever really be finished or abandoned.
It simply was. But she hadn’t realized that she’d been hiding, too—unobserved and perpetually in process.
But Elliot had perceived her. Him seeing her had altered her.
Completed her, in its own way. She wasn’t sure she could handle a second viewing.
As the door swung open, his eyes slammed into Lainey’s, a tidal wave of anger, pain, and—most frustratingly of all—recognition. She felt another small alteration on her heart. Ripped apart and made complete all over again.
One second ticked past and then, suddenly, Elliot was jumping out of the driver’s seat.
“Lainey, I’ve been—” He registered Bree’s bent posture and Lainey’s hand rubbing circles at the base of her friend’s spine. “Hospital?”
“Yes,” Bree moaned.
He nodded. “All right, Bree. Let’s get you comfortable in the back seat.”
Elliot made sure everyone was belted and secured before peeling out of the parking lot.
“I don’t want to have my baby in a car!” Bree cried.
“You’re not having your baby in a car. You’re having your baby in a hospital,” Elliot told her in a smooth, reassuring voice.
“Okay.” Bree sounded like she believed him. “Can you say more things? Your voice sounds like a doctor’s.”
Elliot’s laugh rumbled through the truck cab.
“What exactly does a doctor sound like?” Lainey asked, attempting to distract Bree.
“Like him,” she snapped back. “I’m sorry. I love you, Lainey, and in ten hours, I’ll be able to appreciate how strange this situation is for you, but right now, I need you to let him talk!”
Lainey raised her eyebrows to Elliot as if to say, Take it away. He smirked, and for a moment, they were back, and it was good, which made the moment when she remembered that they weren’t that much worse.
“Do you want me to say doctor things or—?”
“When did you realize you were falling in love with my best friend?” Bree asked through gritted teeth.
“Bree,” Lainey cautioned.
“I need distractions, and his answer will be interesting enough to distract me,” Bree hollered. She’d moved to a sideways position, using the back seat as a chaise lounge.
“I don’t think Lainey’s comfortable with—”
“I have a baby on my spine! ANSWER THE QUESTION!” Bree barked.