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I haven’t slept. He’s barely slept, and I’ve done everything I know to do.
Alana will fix this. She’ll know what to do because everything I’ve tried has been wrong. So wrong.
* * *
Hearinga key being inserted into the lock on my door, I take my eyes off a rerun episode ofThe Big Bang TheoryI’m watching on TV to glance at the clock on the wall.
It’s been seven hours since Alana hung up the phone on me to drive down to Los Angeles from where she and my brother live just outside San Francisco. I’m not surprised; she hauls ass in a car except for when her kids are with her.
Alana and my partner, Connie, are the only people I allow to have an extra key to my condo. It doesn’t bother me she’s letting herself in rather than knocking. I let myself in when I visit her house too.
“Traffic to LA was a bit... ch...”
I look over from my spot on the sofa. Alana is looking from my face to where I have Gabriel laid, belly down, across my chest.
“Where’d the baby come from? You keeping a friend’s or something?”
She knows better than to ask a question like that. I tell her everything over our daily calls; even things I shouldn’t divulge. She knows I don’t have any friends close enough—besides her—that I’d consider babysitting for.
Sure, Stephanie and I are work friends, but we’re not the kind of friends who know each other well enough for that type of favor. And Connie, like me, is married to the job. She doesn’t have a spouse or kids. She doesn’t even have a boyfriend that I know of. I’m pretty sure she’s still fuck-buddies with one of the beat cops from another precinct.
“Or something,” I breathe out a tired breath. Alana raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Of course not,” I concede, trying to keep my voice a soft whisper.
Gabriel begins to stir in my overly tired arms, letting out a quiet whimper. Glancing down, I check to see if he’s going to wake. So far, looks like I’m in the clear, so I gaze back over to Alana, watching as she eases the door closed.
“He’s a case. Sort of.”
I toss the remote to the other end of the couch.
“What kind of case would cause you to end up with a newborn?” she bluntly asks.
Before I can answer her, I take notice of the brown stain covering her white, long-sleeve t-shirt. My eyes glide farther down, taking in the black UGGS over a pair of black leggings. It’s mid-September and much cooler in the Bay area than in SoCal but this...
“Let’s start with you first.” I point up and down. “What’s with the non-Alana style getup?”
“Bit... ughhh,” she stops herself from calling me a bitch, but her loud dramatics causes another whimper to come from the baby. For that, I cut my eyes at her.
If there’s one thing I can commend Alana on, it’s not using foul language in front of children. Not even babies who have no idea what’s being said.
“You called me, asking me to drive all the way to LA for an emergency that you’ve only given me a fraction of the details, and you’re going to call me out on my attire?”
“Yep.” Sure am.
“They’re Carrie’s.”
She walks over to the small dining table, setting her purse down before turning back to face me.
“I didn’t realize I grabbed clothes from her laundry basket until I was in the car. I was half-asleep when I was on the phone with you. You’re lucky I’m here, so get off my case.” She points to the shirt she’s wearing. “This is a coffee stain. In my haste to get here, I spilled most of the café latte on me driving out of the parking lot. Good thing I always order the kids’ temp, or I’d be at the hospital nursing burns instead of here.”
She’s in a pissy mood. Good thing I know what’ll solve that.
“Alana,” I sigh. “Thank you for coming all the way. I do appreciate it, and I do need you here. I really do. But you need a long, hot shower and fresh clothes.” I jerk my head toward my bedroom down the hall. “Take a minute. You know it’ll put you in a better mood. When you get out, I’ll explain in more detail why I called.”
Her eyes glide to Gabriel, remaining on him for a few seconds before she looks back at me.
“I’ll be out in ten.”
Nodding, I let out a yawn, but as soon as I do, Gabriel breaks out in a full-on cry. Jeez, I can’t get a break.
