“The worst? She doesn’t feel the same way but feels like she owes me because of the loan and marrying her and tries to be in a relationship with me out of a sense of obligation,” I said miserably.
“Well, shit. That is a worst-case scenario. So you have to ask her to be honest with you, and you have to trust her. Don’t go thinking you know what she thinks. Because you’re wrong. I’m wrong every time I assume anything with Laura. Don’t go there.”
“Thanks,” I said. “It’s crazy how I can run into a fire knowing I’ll maybe die and not even hesitate, but I can’t tell my wife that I love her.”
“Because it’s a lot harder to live than it is to sacrifice your life, idiot,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Especially if you think you gotta live without the woman you need.”
“You’re a wise son of a bitch sometimes, Brody,” I said and ordered us another round.
We were joking about baby names for my upcoming niece or nephew—I suggested Damon or Damonette—when our phones rang at the same time. We exchanged a look and then he answered my sister’s call. I saw my mom’s number and picked up.
“We’re pulling into the ER now, Damon. Your sister thinks something’s wrong with the baby,” she said. “Get over here.”
I hung up and looked at Brody. His face was gray and slack, terror flitting in his eyes. I pocketed his keys and told him to get in my truck. He was in no shape to drive, scared shitless for his wife and child.
“She’s gonna be fine,” I told him.
“I can’t lose her, Damon. For fuck’s sake, I buried Missy. Isn’t that enough? What the fuck?” he said. “She was fine when I talked to her at five. What if she’s been sick this whole time and was scared to tell me?”
His anguish was painful to hear. I shook my head as I drove.
“Man, my sister ain’t afraid of anything. She’d tell you. And she called you. She wants you there. You gotta be there for her and make it okay for her. She needs you.”
“Yeah,” he said, latching on to that idea. “Get me as close to the entrance as you can. I don’t want her worrying and having to wait on me.”
He was leaning forward, hand on the door before we ever got there, so anxious to get to her, to see with his own eyes if she was okay.
“It’s probably just indigestion. My mom was making pierogies tonight and Laura always overdoes it on those,” I said trying to console him.
“She’s bleeding,” he said, his voice hollow.
“Oh,” I answered. There was nothing else to say to that. “Well, she’s got good care and we’ll be there in a minute. I’m just gonna call Trixie before I come inside. I won’t be a minute,” I said.
I hadn’t even got the truck stopped by the entrance before he vaulted out and was inside the building. I parked and dialed my wife. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. I called again, still no answer. I texted her: Trix, please call me. And I waited, staring at my phone as the screen went dark again and I got no response.
I waited, drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, made excuses in my head for her. Her phone was on the charger and she wasn’t with it. She was playing with the kids and didn’t hear the ringer. She and her sister were doing face masks or some girlie shit in the other room and she couldn’t hear the phone. It wasn’t that she was screening my calls or that she didn’t want to talk to me. She’d call as soon as she got the message and say she was sorry and give me a perfectly normal reason for not answering. Never mind that I’d answered her calls and texts when I was on a goddamn moving fire truck en route to a blaze before.
Sixteen hours ago, I’d been drunk on the crackle of desire between us, my mouth at her neck, the tug of her fingers in my hair while I moved inside her. We had been as close as a man and a woman could be, and now she wasn’t even picking up when I called. I needed to talk to her, needed my touchstone, my wife. I needed her to tell me it would be okay, that I should keep her posted on how Laura and the baby were, and that she’d see me tomorrow night. I needed her arms around me, to comfort me. I needed her to know this was happening. She’d know what I should ask, how I should talk to my mom to not scare her more. I dialed one more time and got sent to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message. I wasn’t going to say things like this to a recording. What would I even say?