Page 38

Chapter twenty-five

Wanna piece of my toy gun, Zo?

Zoe

C harlie’s voice is calm. Too calm. “Don’t freak out.”

Immediately, my stomach knots. “Charlie—”

“I’m fine. I promise. But the contractions are close, and my midwife says it’s time to come in.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chase still in the kitchen, frozen halfway through unscrewing the lid on his protein shake.

“You’re early.”

“I know.” She exhales. “Jake’s trying to act normal, but he’s currently in the bathroom packing gum, a phone charger, and—for some reason I will never understand—a hairdryer.”

I blink. “A hairdryer?”

Chase glances over at that, brow raised. I ignore him.

“In case I want to do my hair after pushing out a human, apparently.”

Despite the coil of panic in my chest, I let out a startled laugh. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, he’s pacing and mumbling and trying to pretend he’s not spiraling. I love him, but if he doesn’t stop repacking the hospital bag, I will kill him before this baby gets the chance to crown.”

A cabinet slams shut in the background. Jake mumbles something unintelligible about baby socks and nail clippers.

“So this is happening?” I ask quietly, shifting slightly as I feel Chase’s attention still fixed on me from across the room.

“Yeah,” she says. “Contractions are regular. I’m four weeks early, but the midwife wants us at the hospital.”

My throat tightens, and I nod even though she can’t see me.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. I mean, it’s my third time. I know the drill. But my parents are still somewhere in the air over the Pacific. I’ve rerouted their flights, but they won’t land until tomorrow night.”

“Okay…”

“And Alison’s driving in from Glenwood, but she won’t be here for a few hours.”

I’m already standing. I catch a flicker of movement as Chase straightens too, like he’s readying for something before I’ve even said a word.

“You need someone on kid duty.”

“I wouldn’t ask if—”

“I’ve got it,” I say. “I’ll be there soon.”

She goes quiet for a second. “You’re sure?”

“Charlie. Go have a baby. I’ve got the rest.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, and the line clicks dead a moment later.

I stand frozen in the middle of the room. My lungs feel too small, the air too tight and sharp. Charlie is in labor. Charlie is about to have a baby.

And all I can think about is how the last time someone I loved went into labor, they didn’t come home.

I blink hard and straighten my shoulders, noticing my hand is shaking as I lower the phone.

Chase is still silently watching me from the kitchen, and I exhale slowly, trying to shake the buzz beneath my skin.

“She’s four weeks early,” I say, my voice too light. Too fake. “But she sounds calm. Jake’s the one spiraling. Something about baby socks and a hairdryer.”

Chase doesn’t move. Doesn’t joke. Just nods once, like he can feel the tightness behind my words.

“She okay?”

“She says she is.” I tug my sleeves down, suddenly too aware of how cold my hands are. “Her parents are still in the air. Jake’s mom is a few hours out. So someone needs to watch Noah and Meadow until she gets there.”

He nods again, slower this time, setting his shake down. “What do you need?”

That question—the way he says it, quiet and sure—knocks something loose in my chest.

I clear my throat. “I’m gonna head over now. Get them through dinner. Bath time. Bed.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You’ll what?”

He steps out from behind the counter. “I’ll come.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know.”

The silence stretches. His eyes don’t leave mine.

“You do realize this involves actual children, right?” I manage. “Two of them. Tiny sugar-fueled humans with no regard for logic or hygiene.”

His mouth tugs into the faintest smirk. “Sounds like my kinda party.”

My breathy, relieved laugh almost turns into something else. “You’re not going to teach Noah how to bodycheck someone, are you?”

“Not unless he asks nicely.”

I shake my head, already moving to grab my bag. I don’t say thank you. I don’t know if I could get the words out if I tried. But when I pass him to reach for my coat, his hand brushes mine, a finger softly flexing out over the top of my knuckles, and I realize he already knows.

***

Jake opens the front door in a full-blown sweat.

“Thank fuck,” he breathes, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside. “You’re here.”

“Okay, you need to breathe ,” I say, gently pushing him back. “Charlie’s the one doing all the work. Your job right now is just driving the car.”

“I can’t find my wallet!”

“What do you think they’re gonna do? ID you in case you’re trying to steal a baby?”

Jake stops and turns to me. “Oh my god. Do people do that?!”

Chase chuckles from behind me. “You okay, man?”

Jake swivels to him, wide-eyed. “Do I look okay? I just packed a hairdryer and two dog biscuits in Charlie’s hospital bag.

We don’t even have a dog—they’re leftover from when Logan visited with Dusty!

And I can’t find the charger for the baby monitor.

I lost the car keys twice and somehow, Charlie is still sitting down there like she’s not about to bring a whole damn human into the world. ”

“She’s literally having contractions right now,” I point out.

“I KNOW.” He gestures dramatically down the hall. “And she’s just… sitting there! Drinking tea like she’s in a spa lounge.”

Chase leans toward me, breath warm on my neck. “Jake’s in his panic era.”

“Fully spiraling,” I whisper back.

When we make it past Jake losing his mind and into the living room, I understand, in part, why Jake is shocked.

Charlie does look like an uncannily serene birthing goddess.

She’s sitting on the couch in leggings and a zip hoodie, legs tucked to the side like she’s watching Netflix, not timing contractions on her watch.

Jake is pacing the hallway now. “We’re not ready. We’re not ready. I repacked the hospital bag four times, and somehow it still feels wrong.”

Charlie lifts a brow. “Because you put a banana in it, babe.”

“Bananas are high in potassium!”

“You also packed dog biscuits.”

“I think I’m dying,” Jake groans, walking in and clutching the back of the couch.

“You’re not,” Charlie says, voice terrifyingly calm. “But I might kill you if you don’t go get the bag and the keys.”

Then she turns to us, like nothing major is happening at all. “Hey, Chaz.”

I blink. “You’re in labor, and that’s what you open with?”

Charlie shrugs. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” she says sweetly, ignoring the fact that she just weaponized our cursed ship name mid-contraction.

Chase just smirks. “I love that it’s catching on.”

Before I can reply, he bumps his shoulder into mine, a giant grin on his face. And somehow, even though it’s the dumbest thing ever, I feel my lips twitch.

Charlie knowingly smiles at us.

“You look incredible for someone about to eject a human,” I say, mostly to redirect before I combust.

She shrugs, rising from the couch with absurd grace. “I’ve done this before. Just need someone to keep the tiny humans alive while I do it again.”

It shouldn’t shake me, the way she says that. But it does. Because she’s so calm, so sure. Like there’s no version of the story where anything goes wrong.

“Done,” I say confidently.

“And I’ll keep her alive,” Chase adds behind me.

Jake squints at him. “You don’t have a lot of experience with kids…”

“And yet,” Chase says, throwing an arm out, “they adore me.”

Like clockwork, a high-pitched voice yells, “UNCLE CHAAAAASE!”

Footsteps thunder down the hallway, and two tiny, sugar-powered missiles called Meadow and Noah explode into the room.

“Can we have waffles for dinner?” Noah asks, skidding across the hardwood in socks.

“Uncle Chase! I made you a bracelet!” Meadow beams, holding up something sparkly and vaguely glue-scented.

Chase drops to one knee like she’s presenting a royal heirloom.

“Are you serious? This is incredible . Can I wear it right now?”

Meadow nods so hard her pigtails bounce. “Only if you never take it off.”

“I would die before I betray you,” he says solemnly.

“Oh my god ,” I mutter. “They’ve formed a cult.”

Jake appears again, keys in one hand, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and a piece of loose string tangled in his hair. “Okay. Okay, I think we’re ready.”

“You are ready,” Charlie says, stepping into his space and picking the string from his hair. “Now go get in the car before I have this baby on the damn welcome mat.”

Jake swallows hard. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kisses him quickly, then turns to the rest of us. “Waffles are fine for dinner. Screen time only once you start to lose the will to live. Meadow needs her unicorn plushie to sleep, Noah’s been trying to reprogram the toaster, and bedtime is firm at eight.”

I nod. “We’ve got this.”

Charlie arches a single eyebrow, looking between the two of us, clearly assessing our chances of survival. Chase is now wearing a glitter bracelet, while Noah’s halfway up his back like a monkey.

“Good luck!” She winks at me, then waddles out the door.

***

Ten minutes later, I’m in the kitchen trying to find something vaguely vegetable-adjacent to make for dinner while Meadow sprints through the hallway screaming about evil queens, and Noah’s trying to convince Chase to let him watch John Wick .

“It’s got a dog,” Noah argues. “It’s basically a dog movie.”

“It’s a dog revenge movie,” I call over my shoulder. “And you’re seven.”

“I’m almost eight!”

Chase ruffles his hair. “He’s got a point. I watched Gladiator when I was six.”

I whip around. “Absolutely not. You’re not corrupting these children in a single evening.”

“Too late,” he mutters, grabbing a toy gun off the shelf. “What’s this? Tactical artillery?”

“That’s mine!” Noah yells, snatching it out of his hands. “And girls aren’t allowed to use it.”

Meadow appears from the hallway, righteous fury in her eyes. “Yes, we ARE! ”

Chase grins, eyes lighting up in the worst possible way. “Boys versus girls?”

“Oh no,” I say, backing up. “No, I—”