“Just one more bag, Brooke,” Caleb said, his shirt already damp with sweat as he shoved a set of golf clubs into the remaining space.
I walked slowly down the concrete steps, my ankles swollen over the edges of my sandals, feeling every step in my hips. Brooke glanced down at my feet, a small, mocking smile touching her lips before she adjusted her phone to catch the light.
“My god, Claire, you look like you’re carrying a water balloon,” she said.
I ignored her and walked up to Caleb, who was adjusting the straps in the cargo area.
“Caleb, please,” I said quietly, keeping my hand flat against my stomach. “The pressure is getting worse, and I really think you should stay.”
He turned around, his expression shifting instantly into his sweet, reassuring grin. He took my hands in his, but his eyes flicked down to his heavy gold watch, his thumb winding the crown twice.
“Babe, you’re going to be fine,” he said, his voice booming with that easy confidence. “The neighbors are right next door if anything happens.”
“But what if the labor starts early?” I asked.
He leaned down and pressed a quick, dry kiss against my forehead, his skin smelling of expensive cologne.
“Don’t be dramatic,” he murmured, his voice low so his mother would not hear. “It’s just a few days, and we’ll be back before you know it.”
He let go of my hands and climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the heavy door behind him.
Diane climbed into the passenger seat, her stiff curls brushing against the headrest as she adjusted the visor mirror to check her lipstick. She rolled down her window and leaned her head out into the hot afternoon air.
“Don’t forget the baseboards, Claire!” she shouted, her voice competing with the roar of the V8 engine. “And make sure the guest rooms are aired out before we return!”
“I heard you, Diane,” I said, but the sound was swallowed by the engine’s idle.
Caleb put the SUV into reverse, the tires crunching loudly against the gravel driveway as he backed out of our property. Brooke did not look up from her phone as they cleared the wooden gate, her thumb scrolling rapidly through her feed.
