I thought about my encounter with Rich. I’d overheard him complain about Jennifer. Something about her squealing? No, singing like a canary. About what? How had he known she’d been arrested?
The front door opened and Jim walked in.
“How’d it go?”
Jim grimaced and walked to the kitchen. He reappeared holding an unopened beer can and tapped it on the side. “I’m not sure. Pretty good, I think. They want me to put together a new ad campaign for them with a proposal for my services as an independent contractor. But it’s hard for me to tell if I’m wasting my time. I should probably be looking for a full-time job, instead of—”
“It sounds like a good opportunity.”
Jim opened the beer. “You think that because you’re such an optimist.”
I picked up Laurie and dangled her in front of Jim. “Ask her what she thinks.”
Jim laughed, scooping Laurie into his arms. “What do you think, pumpkin pie? You think it’s best for Daddy to get a real job with health insurance and benefits and vacation and all the things that provide security for you and Mommy or should Daddy try to land this consulting gig?”
I flopped onto the couch. “So do both. Keeping looking for a job and prepare the proposal for them.”
Jim took a swig of beer. “I’m stressed out about not bringing in a paycheck.”
The phone rang. I leaned over and grabbed it. Kiku’s voice filled the line. “Kate! The baby’s on the way! I’m scared and I can’t find George!”
Excitement fluttered inside me. “Are you sure?”
Kiku groaned.
“Okay. Yeah. That sounds pretty real. Hang on, okay? Jim and I will be right over.”
•CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO•
Labor Again?
I felt like an old hand at this mommy business. Of course, it’s totally different when you’re not the one in labor.
“Where could George be?” I asked.
Jim rolled his eyes. “Another birth that the shithead is going to ruin.”
We pulled up in front of Kiku’s apartment. She was pacing the sidewalk as we doubled parked.
She bent to pick up her overnight bag.
Jim popped out of the car and yelled, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get it.”
Laurie began to cry. She had settled down when the car was in motion, but now that we had stopped, her howling had started again.
I moved to the backseat. No need to make Kiku sit next to a screaming child before she had to.
Kiku studied Jim. “You look like George.”
“He looks like me. I’m older,” Jim said through a smile as he picked up her bag and took her arm. “Have you timed the contractions?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“We have time,” I said, feeling like a pro.
Kiku settled into the front seat and I rubbed her neck as Jim raced down the street.
We arrived at the hospital and checked Kiku in. They wouldn’t let Laurie into the room, so Jim and I decided to take shifts with Kiku.
We tried calling George on his cell phone. No answer.
“Why don’t you go home with Laurie and rest for a while?” Jim said.
“Really?” I asked, trying to stretch my neck.
“You look really tired, honey. Besides, George is my brother, so I should be here.”
“I’d like to be here, too. Let me see if Mom can watch Laurie.”
“Go home and rest, and if Mom can come to the house later, come back in a couple of hours. We’ll be here.”
I drove Laurie and myself home.
Where could George be? I tried his cell phone again. Still no answer.
As soon as I reached home, I unloaded the bucket car seat and breathed a sigh of relief that Laurie was asleep.
I napped for two hours, then awoke to Laurie’s hungry wails.
I selected a fresh Winnie the Pooh sleeper and got Laurie out of her grungy onesie and diaper, but before I could get a clean diaper on, she peed all over the changing table.
Nice.
“See all the fun stuff I’d miss if I had to go to the office every day?” I asked Laurie.
She cooed up at me.
“You’re going to have a little cousin soon,” I said as I cleaned her off and settled her into the bassinet. After I mopped up her changing table, I went to hunt down some food for myself.
The refrigerator was practically empty again. Who had time for shopping?
I glanced at the clock. Six P.M. No wonder I was hungry. When was the last time I’d eaten? I settled into our “nursing station”—anywhere on the couch, near the phone—and called Mom.
The paperwork I had taken from Michelle’s lay discarded on the coffee table. Jim hadn’t had time to review it. I picked it up as I left a voice mail for Mom.
The reports didn’t look any clearer to me now than they had earlier. I’d take them to Jim at the hospital, along with some dinner.