Page 52 of Set Me On Fire

“OK.” I sat down and so did everyone else. The twins still looked vaguely homicidal, but Brock was curiously calm.

“Look, love, we’ve been talking—” Dad started to say.

“I know. I could hear you ‘talking.’” I flexed my fingers for emphasis.

“And we think it’d be best for you to move back home.”

“What?” I looked around at Jamie in outrage, but she just threw her hands up, making clear she was not a part of this betrayal. “I’m twenty-eight years old. I own my own apartment.”

“An apartment that’s four flights up,” Dad continued. “That’s not a safe place to bring up a little one, and you’re not working.”

“I’ve got savings?—”

“And how long will they last?” Mum asked.Et tu, Brute.“Children are expensive.”

“You won’t be able to work when he or she is little,” Dad kept going.

“Plenty of mums put their babies in care,” I shot back.

“But you won’t want to.” Mum was pulling out the big guns, because out of anyone here, she was the only one who knew. Who’d been through childbirth, who’d raised three kids. She was supposed to be my Yoda, teaching me the ways, without dying theatrically of course, but still. “Childbirth is… a lot. If you think you’re feeling rough now.”

Ulp. I went to get a drink for my suddenly dry throat, but Hayden handed me a bottle of water. I drank it down greedily.

“We’re having a baby.” It felt like Hayden was convincing himself, not me. “And we’re all going to have to pull together. You can move back in here. Mum can babysit.”

“Oh, I’d love that.” That’s when I saw how they’d turned my own mother against me. “I’ve got nothing to do but rattle around in this house. There was discussion of me going back to nursing, maybe doing some doula work, but looking after my own grandchild? I could mind them while you work?—”

“We?” I sucked a breath of air in. “We aren’t doing anything, unless you’re going to squeeze a watermelon out of your butthole, Haybale.”

“Loving the mental image,” Hunter snarked. “Just beautiful.”

“God…” I had a horrible thought. “Phyllis is never going to be the same after this.”

“You call your vagina Phyllis?” That, out of all the ridiculousness of today, was what Brock focussed on, but yep, he looked up at Jamie. “What do you call yours?”

“Madge.” Jamie and I said it at the same time. “Madge the vag.”

“OK, enough talking about… things like that.” Dad waved his hand in our direction. The old man could be curiously prudish about these things. “Millie, seriously, we need to find a solution here.”

“A job.” I had an idea, one I really didn’t want to consider. “A nice secure job with the government.” I saw Brent then and Judy. “One with the option of a permanent position and maternity leave.”

“Oh, that would be perfect,” Mum said, following that with a frown. “But where would you find a job like that?”

I was standingin my garden with a card in my hand, but it wasn’t the one Noah left for me. I needed to attend to that, the thought like a niggle in my brain, but avoiding moving home with my parents was the first cab off the rank. I sucked in a breath, focussing on the air filling my lungs, then leaving them, over and over as I did something I never normally would.

Ring a potential boss on Christmas bloody Day.

In my mind, I saw myself leaving a message oh-so-casually enquiring about the job he’d offered me. If he’d filled Judy’s position, maybe he’d know of something else. A voicemail, that’s all it’d be. One Brent could listen to and discard if needed.

What I didn’t expect was for him to answer the goddamn phone.

“Brent Andrews.”

“Um, hi, Merry Christmas!” Oh my god, that’s what I started with?Your name, dickhead. Your name. “This is Millie, Millie McDonald. We met?—”

“At the Christmas party! Yes, I remember you.” His big, booming voice helped alleviate a little of my anxiety. “Noah’s friend.”

“Right, we…”Had an orgy in your bunkroom.I forged on, “Are old school friends. Look, sorry to bother you on Christmas Day. I thought your phone would go to voicemail.”

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