Page 78 of Embers in Our Past

“You know, I wanted to talk to you about something,” I say, pressing my thumb deeper into her muscles, and she moans.

“Okay, I’m all ears. But speak fast because I might fall asleep.”

“My lease is up soon. I sort of need to make a decision.” My eyes are fixed on her for a reaction.

I’ve been avoiding this conversation, a little hesitant due to the way Abby has been trying to find her footing since moving back from Boston. I just want to make sure she is comfortable along the way.

“Oh yeah? And what do you want?” she asks.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what I want. But I don’t want to leave any room for interpretation. I want you. I want us, as a family, under one roof. I want to wake up with you in my arms. I want to hold our daughter in the middle of the night when she cries, not as a part-time father.” In no way do I want to be visiting. I want to be with her, at some point as her husband, if she will have me.

“I would like that too.” She sits up and moves her hand up my neck and onto my cheek. “I think it’s time you go grab your stuff and bring it here… permanently. Come home, Clay.”

I cup her face in my hands and kiss her. “I love you, Abby.”

“I love you too,” she says. “I can’t wait to—ugh.” She looks down, panicked. “Oh my god!”

“What?” I have no idea what’s going on.

“Either I peed myself, or my water broke,” she admits and then stands. “I’m going to go check in the bathroom.”

She gives me no time to say anything and rushes off to the restroom. I sit there for a second, sort of stunned in silence. What just happened? Should I be doing something?

Soon, Abby is yelling from inside, “Clay, it’s my water.” Which isn’t surprising because Abby doesn’t just pee on herself.

I snap out of it and hop up from the patio furniture.

I run inside and grab our hospital bag. Once I pull that out of the front closet, I grab my phone.

“I’ll text your parents, brother, and my family. Anyone else?”

“Yes, text Marissa!” she shouts. “She’s still in town.”

I frantically pull out my phone and get to texting everyone. One full text thread will have to do. My phone is going to be going off tonight, but I don’t even care anymore.

As I’m about to text, I see movement in the hallway. I walk toward the bedroom doorway and see Abby in our en-suite bathroom. She’s staring at herself, a contraption on her head.

“What the hell are you doing, Abby?” I can’t help but ask.

“What do you think? I’m getting the heatless curlers in. I told you, I want to have my hair ready, like Kennedy showed me.” She looks over at me like I’ve gone mad.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now, woman!” I yell.

My future sister-in-law is not going to hear the end of this. I cannot believe Abby is in labor and she’s worried about curling her hair right now thanks to Kennedy and her weird hair obsession.

I walk away and return to the task of texting our friends and family.

Here goes nothing:

Clay

It’s go time!

CHAPTER 28

Clay

“You thinkforty-five is a good age then?” I ask as Abby is getting a concoction of apple juice, cranberry juice, and Sprite. The way she sips and moans, you’d think it’s an alcoholic beverage.

---