Sam is on the floor with his trucks, and there’s nothing wrong with him.
And then I look at Whitney. Her face is pale, and it honestly looks as if she just fought an entire war, single-handedly and unarmed. She’s on her feet, but weaving slightly, and I take a step toward her.
“Are you going to pass out? Your skin’s got a gray tint thing happening and I don’t think you’ve blinked since I got here.”
She blinks. Once.
Nat tries to laugh, even though she mostly holds her stomach and makes a pained sound of amusement. “Whitney pulled up a YouTube video on how to deliver a baby at home in case you didn’t make it in time.”
“In time for what?” I scowl at my sister. “You’re not actually in labor, are you? If you are, we’re calling an ambulance because I’m not going there.”
“I’m not in labor.”
“Aren’t you an EMT?” Whitney asks, some of her color returning. “Somebody said you’re a firefighterandan EMT.”
“I’m an AEMT, socanI deliver a baby? Yes, in an emergency. Am I going to deliver Nat’s baby? Absolutely not.”
My sister barks out a laugh. “He’s afraid of my vagina.”
“Oh, he’s not afraid of—” Whitney starts, and then her words choke off. She’s definitely got color back in her cheeks now. “You meanyourvagina, in particular. Of course. Because you’re his sister—not just…in general.”
I’d tell her to stop talking, but the damage is already done. The look Nat gives me is loaded with amusement and speculation, and my life just got two hundred percent more complicated. My sister is currently adding two plus two and coming up with four and, sure, that’s the right answer, but I’d rather that math never came up in the first place. I’ll never hear the end of it now.
“I’m going to check your vitals,” I tell Nat in an effort to change the subject to anything but vaginas.
“I swear it’s just random Braxton Hicks contractions,” she says, trying to fend me off. “I’m absolutely fine, Rob.”
“I’m taking your blood pressure. The more you fight me on it, the higher it’ll be.”
She surrenders with a sigh and an unnecessarily dramatic eye roll. I check her over, paying more attention to her than to the numbers. She’s relaxed, her breathing is calm, and her blood pressure’s just fine. Her ankles look good. Even with her being one of the most important women in my life, nothing flags as remotely alarming.
I pack my equipment away in the bag. “Everything looks good, but you call me or Mom or literally anybody if that changes, okay?”
“Okay, but it’s just Braxton Hicks,” Nat tells me again. “And now that we’ve established that, you can relax and hang out with us.”
There’s no way I’m letting a very bored, very pregnant woman get a foothold in a matchmaking scheme. “I should get back. I was actually in the middle of something when the call came in.”
“Wait. You can’t go,” Whitney says, and there’s a very uncharacteristic pleading note to her voice. “You have to stay.”
“Nat’s not in labor and, like I said before, I was in the middle of something.” It wasn’t anything important, but it was better than being here.
“You can’t leave me here alone with a small child and an extremely pregnant woman who’s making strange noises while rubbing her stomach.” She reaches out and clutches the front of my shirt. “Maybe one of those I could handle, but I can’t do both. Or you can stay here and I’ll go finish whateveryouwere doing.”
“And if a call comes in, are you going to put out the fire?”
“Yes, I will. I feel a lot more qualified to be in charge of a fire scene than handling what was happening in that video.”
She’s so earnest, it’s hard not to laugh at her, but I do my best. Judging by the increased pressure on my shirt, though, I’m doing a bad job of hiding my amusement. Behind Whitney, Nat has her face pressed into a throw pillow, but her shoulders are shaking.
“Rob,” Whitney whispers, her head tilted back so she can pin me with her pleading gaze. “I know you deal with this kind of pressure every day, but I don’t and the stakes are so?—”
“I’ll stay.” Since Nat’s already figured out that math problem, I confirm it by tugging my shirt out of Whitney’s fist and then wrapping my arms around Whitney. She’s trembling and I hold her close. “Everybody’s okay, and I can hang out for a little while.”
After a moment, the shaking subsides, but she only buries her face harder against me. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I murmur into her hair.
“I overreacted. Like,wildlyoverreacted. I shouldn’t have texted you like that.”
