Chapter 6 - Danae #2
“And then it was over,” I say. “I woke up alone. He was gone.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you’ll see him again?”
“No,” I reply, even though the word doesn’t sit easily. “It was clearly a one-time thing.”
“Does that bother you?”
I think of the way his absence lingered longer than his presence. Of the warmth that still ghosts my sheets sometimes. “Maybe,” I admit. “I’m not sure what I feel or think about it.”
“Life’s messy,” she sighs.
“Easy for you to say,” I tease. “You’re glowing and pregnant and in love.”
She laughs. “I’m also terrified.”
“You’ll be amazing,” I encourage. “Motherhood suits you, Josie Mosie, and so does being a wife and partner. Dean is good for you and Justice and now this new little life.”
“I know,” she replies. “But I’m still glad you’re coming. I need you.”
I smile, warmth spreading through my chest. “I need you too.”
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.
He loves Jackie, but sometimes he forgets even me.
Since she’s been in California so long, I’m not sure how much he will remember of her.
I’m grateful she’s willing to come here instead of her choosing to be with Josie.
They are sisters and close, but not like me and Josie.
I appreciate that Jackie isn’t jealous, but instead she’s supportive and stepping in for me to have this time away.
Once I have everything verified and my bags packed, it’s then I move into morning routines to get going.
I go to his room. Our living room that has become his space since his hospital bed fits better out here.
He’s awake, sitting up in his bed, hands folded in his lap like he sensed the shift in the house.
“Hey,” I greet gently.
He looks up at me, eyes clearer than they’ve been all week. “You’re dressed.”
“I have to go out of town,” I tell him, crouching in front of him. “Just for a little while.”
He nods slowly. “The baby.” He remembers and my heart fills with happiness.
I blink, surprised. “Yes. Josie’s baby.”
“She’ll be beautiful,” he states with quiet certainty.
“I think so too.” I take his hands in mine. They feel thinner than they used to. “I’ll call you every day. Jackie is coming. And there will be someone here with you from the care team, just like we talked about.”
He studies my face, then lifts one hand and cups my cheek. “You go. You don’t worry about me.”
My throat tightens. “I love you.”
“I know,” he says. “That’s why you should go. You give up too much for this old man. Go see our Josie and come back with lots of pictures.”
I hug him carefully, breathing him in, committing the moment to memory just in case. One thing about my line of work, where there is life, there is also death. You can’t have one without the other. Once the aide arrives, I grab my bag, lock the door behind me, and don’t let myself look back.
The airport is a blur of fluorescent lights and rolling suitcases.
It’s a matter of hours before I have Jackie and her wife picked up, returned to the house, a brief reminder of the things I have shown them over and over on video calls for the last few weeks, and then I took off again to catch my own flight.
I bought the first ticket I could and didn’t even look at the cost. It doesn’t matter. Money comes and goes, but being with Josie to support her is priceless. I text Josie updates she probably won’t read for hours.
Boarding. Taxiing. Takeoff.
Only once we’re in the air do I finally sit back and let the adrenaline begin to ease. I stare out the window at the clouds, hands folded over my lap, and think about how strange it is that my life can pivot this fast. One phone call and everything rearranges itself around something new being born.
When I land in North Carolina, the air feels warmer. Unfamiliar but still comfortable. I rent a car and drive straight to Josie’s house, following the GPS and hoping like crazy it’s not going to get me lost.
The house is quiet when I arrive. Too quiet for a place that’s about to gain a new human. Justice answers the door in socked feet, eyes wide with Josie’s friend Sara beside him. She smiles brightly at me as we have chatted before on video calls.
“Aunt Danae!” Justice yells, throwing himself at me.
I drop my bag and scoop him up. “Hey, buddy.”
“Mom’s having the baby,” he shares, like it’s breaking news and a secret all at once.
“I know,” I reply. “You excited?”
He nods hard. “Dad said I get to meet her today.”
“You’re gonna be the best big brother,” I promise.
Inside, the house looks exactly like Josie left it—half-finished nesting energy everywhere.
A folded blanket on the couch. Bottles drying on the counter.
A faint smell of lavender cleaner lingering in the air.
We have talked almost daily as she’s been planning and preparing.
Obviously, this little princess decided to make an entrance her way instead of according to our schedule.
Justice tugs my hand. “Can we watch a movie?”
“Absolutely.” I kick off my shoes. “Popcorn?”
“Yes!”
We settle on the couch with a cartoon movie he’s already seen a dozen times. He narrates it anyway, leaning into my side, warm and buzzing with excitement. Every few minutes he asks if his mom is okay.
“She’s great,” I tell him every time. “She’s strong.”
A knock sounds at the door not long after. Justice springs up. “That’s Daddy Dean!”
I open the door and step aside. Dean “RiffRaff” O’Neal stands there, eyes tired but bright, keys still in his hand. “Hey,” he greets. “Thanks for coming so fast, Danae.”
“Of course,” I reply. “You ready, Justice?”
Justice grabs his backpack, already bouncing on his toes. “I get to be a big brother!”
His dad crouches in front of him. “You sure do, champ.”
Justice hugs me before he leaves, arms tight around my waist. “You’re staying here?”
“I am, but I’m not leaving.” I promise. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Once they’re gone, the house feels different. Expectant. Like it’s holding its breath.
I don’t waste time. I can easily tell where Josie left off in her plans since we talk so much.
I strip the guest bed and remake it with fresh sheets.
I start a load of laundry since she didn’t get the towels done.
I wipe down counters, sweep floors, empty trash.
I move through the house methodically, putting everything where Josie will want it when she walks through the door sore and exhausted and impossibly full of love.
I set up the bassinet, checking the blankets twice. I stock the fridge with easy food. I leave a bottle of water on the nightstand beside the bed.
By the time I finish, the sun is setting, the house glowing softly under lamplight.
I stand in the nursery doorway and imagine Josie in the rocker, baby tucked against her chest. The thought makes my eyes burn. My phone buzzes. She’s had the baby.
I press my hand to my mouth and laugh quietly, joy flooding through me like a wave. I’m here to hold her hand through the emotions. Bringing a new baby home is a rollercoaster of hormones, fatigue, and healing. I know helping Papa is important, but being here for Josie simply feels fulfilling.
Everything is ready. And for the first time in a long while, I feel exactly where I’m supposed to be.