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Fussing with my phone and hoping I get it right, I add Aiden and Jon to the group call. Aiden picks up first. “Yeah?” Then Jon. “Jim, where are you? Have you seen Iz? I’m on my way to her place now.”
“Yeah, relax, she’s here with me.”
He lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank God. Where are you, Sissy? You had me freaking out.”
She rolls her eyes. “Hi, Jon. Hi, Aiden. I’m fine.” Carefully, she unlatches Bean and lifts her to her shoulder to pat some gas out. “Fit as a fiddle.”
“Where’s Jack?” I ask the group.
“He’s at home,” Kit answers. “Waiting for us to come back.”
“Okay, hang on.” I dial Jack, then Tink. Get them all in one shot. Except Mom. I’ll call her special.
“Lady Mystiques Escort Services. Do you like ‘em large, or extra-large?”
Most of us go awkwardly silent. Except Kit and Bobby, who snicker.
“Umm,” Jack clears his throat. “Is this, like, a late birthday present, or…”
“Ew. It’s just me, you freak.”
“Oh, hey Tink.”
“Alright everyone, listen up.” My palms sweat. Nerves batter at my stomach. I’m so damn nervous. And excited. And nauseous. And excited.
“Hold up,” Jon says. “I’m just pulling up to Izzy’s place. Let me hop out. I need to take a piss.”
Izzy’s eyes flare wide. “No! Don’t go inside.”
“I won’t touch your shit, Sissy. Pee, coffee. Then I’m all set. It’s too damn early for this shit. Kitten’s got us all panicking over nothing.”
“Hey!”
“No, don’t go in!” Her eyes come to mine. “Blood,” she whispers. “Broken water.”
Oh shit!
“What the fuck?” Jon booms. Too late. Too slow.Fuck!“Blood? What’s with the blood?”
“I’m here, Jon. I’m safe, relax.”
“Blood?” “What blood?” Our group call turns frantic. “Why are you bleeding?”
“Isabelle! Where are you?” he booms. “Are you at the hospital? I’m on my way.”
“Please calm down,” she groans. “Clearly I’m okay. I’m in this damn phone group.”
“Sissy.” His voice is so quiet, so fucking calm, I know the explosion is coming. I grew up with this guy. I grew up watching him raise his baby sister. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you at the hospital?”
She sighs. “Yes.”
“I’m. On. My. Way.” He’s a bottle rocket, ready to explode. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
