Chapter 23: Hold On

Sixteen weeks later, at three in the morning, Neil sat up in bed and said, very calmly, "Jude."

Jude was awake before his eyes opened.

"What? What is it?"

"My water broke."

"It's too early."

"Tell her that."

Jude was out of bed with one leg in his jeans and the other still tangled in the sheet.

He fell over.

Neil laughed so hard he doubled over, and the laugh turned into a gasp as the first real contraction took him.

"Okay," Neil panted. "Okay. That's a lot. Get the bag."

"I've got the bag."

"You're holding a pillow."

Jude looked down.

He was holding a pillow.

He dropped it, found the hospital bag by the door, and slung it over his shoulder with the other hand already under Neil's arm.

Winifred met them at the foot of the stairs in her robe, with her cane in one hand and the car keys in the other.

"Drive carefully," she said. "And don't you dare let him have it in the truck."

"Gran, it's not up to me," Neil said through his teeth.

"I'm talking to Jude."

"Yes, ma'am."

She kissed Neil's forehead and put the keys in Jude's palm.

"I'll follow with Britt," she said. "Go."

The truck was warm from the garage heater.

Jude settled Neil across the back seat on three blankets and shut the door gently.

Then he ran around the hood and jumped in.

The harbor road was black and empty.

He drove it faster than he had ever driven anything.

He had driven it once before, with Neil's blood on his shirt and Neil's head on his knee.

He kept his eyes on the white line and did not think about that.

"Talk to me," he said.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Okay."

"This is your fault."

"Yes."

"I would like you to know," Neil said, between breaths, "that I've never wanted to hit anyone so badly."

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