But then the buzzing startsagain.
I study the number more closely this time. I don’t recognize it, but the area code is the same as Adam’s, so I jump off my mat and grab my phone from the bench at the back of the pavilion.
“Sorry, sorry,” I whisper over and over again as I hurryaround the group and to the far corner of the yard where I can talk without disrupting everyone.
“Hello?” I finally answer.
“Laney?” a voice says as soon as I say hello. “It’s Sarah. I’m so glad you answered.”
“Hey,” I say, not liking the trepidation filling her voice. “Is everything okay?”
“I think so?” she says. “The thing is, I’m pretty sure Taylor is in labor and I don’t know anything about how this works and Adam isn’t here and I have no idea where he is and I know this is a lot to ask but are you busy?” Her words tumble out of her, one sentence running into the next, leaving me with at least a dozen questions, mostly ones having to do with her missing brother. But that doesn’t seem to be Sarah’s main concern.
“Wow. That’s a lot,” I say.
“I know. I’m sorry. Is it bad that I called?”
“No, no. Not at all. I’m glad you did. Why don’t you start by telling me about Taylor?”
“Right. Yes. I was just out at the barn, and she was pacing around, panting really heavily. She seems agitated, anxious. That’s labor, right?”
“It sounds like it,” I say. “And that’s all totally normal behavior. Most dogs do this without any human assistance, so as long as she has a warm, comfortable space separate from the other dogs, she’s very likely going to be just fine.”
“Good. That’s good,” Sarah says. “She is separate, and Adam has her enclosure all prepared. But, I don’t know, Laney. Do I need to stay with her? I get super squeamish around blood, so I just don’t think I’m the right person for this job.”
“Isthere blood?”
“Not that I’ve seen, but there will be, right? When the puppies are born?”
Across the lawn, the class shifts into a standing tree pose. “And you said Adam isn’t around?” I ask Sarah.
She lets out a little huff. “He does this sometimes. He’ll be back, but maybe not for a while. Do you think you could come over? I would feel so much better knowing Taylor has someone experienced looking out for her.”
“I can come,” I say, swallowing the urge to ask what Sarah means by Adamdoes this sometimes.
Does what, exactly? Goes on a bender at the local bar? Flies to Vegas and gambles away his sorrows? Maybe he’s just off somewhere with Freddie? Or off somewhere…hidingfrom Freddie?
Wherever he is, Taylor does deserve to have someone watching out for her. “I’m at a yoga class now, but I can be there in…half an hour, maybe?”
“Thanks, Laney,” Sarah says. “I appreciate it.”
I get to Hope Acres in twenty minutes, both because I ignored all but the most essential traffic laws and because I didn’t stop to change out of my yoga clothes, opting to throw on a cropped hoodie over my leggings and sports bra and call it good. It’s not like Taylor is going to care what I’m wearing.
Adam’s SUV is parked in front of the house when I pull up at the rescue, and Freddie’s car is there too, which gives me some hope. Does that mean Adam is back?
But then Sarah hurries down the porch steps, concern etched across her brow. I climb out and meet her in the driveway, and she tugs me toward the barn. It has to mean Adamisn’tactually back, which is equal parts disappointing and concerning. I take comfort in the fact thatSarah is clearly more worried about Taylor than she is her missing brother, so I follow her lead and swallow my own concerns.
Adam is a grown man. Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, I’m sure he’s fine.
At least, I hope he’s fine.
Taylor still hasn’t delivered by the time we reach the barn, but I can tell she’s close. Sarah stays with me for a few minutes, but Taylor seems distracted by her nervous energy, so I gently suggest she head back to the house, and Sarah breathes out a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?” she asks, but she’s already moving toward the door.
“Absolutely,” I say. “I’ll be fine. But…”
She pauses and looks back.
“Did you say you don’t know where Adam is?”