It’s time.
Elliot is still curled around me, his mouth open slightly, his breath coming in soft puffs. He told me once that sometimes when he goes dark, his body shuts down, almost as if it’s hiding out in sleep. Pressing a kiss to his hair, I slide carefully out from under him and out of bed, grabbing one of his T-shirts out of the dresser and pulling it on as I pad into the living room. I detour to the kitchen to pour a cold Diet Pepsi into one of the mugs Elliot got for me and grab a handful of gummy bears to fortify myself for this conversation.
I set everything down on the coffee table and pull one of Elliot’s fluffy throw blankets around me while I tuck myself into the corner of the couch. At absolute peak comfort for what issure to be a very uncomfortable call, I take a fortifying breath and unlock my phone, prepared to dial Gabe’s number.
But when my screen comes to life, before I have a chance to hit the phone icon, my eyes land on the Genesis app. I see it a million times a day, but somehow, after my run in with the dean today and taking care of Elliot, this thing I made, all by myself and without help or input from anyone, or even any formal training, feels even more significant.
I fucking did it. Me. No one else. It’s mine.
And suddenly, I know exactly what to do. With one more deep breath, I dial Gabe’s number and bring the phone to my ear.
“Ames!” Gabe says when he answers, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Tell her I’m mad at her!” I hear Molly call from the background.
“Did you hear that?” Gabe asks.
I grin, everything inside of me glowing at the sound of their voices. “I sure did. What’s she mad at me for this time?”
“Something about a list of true crime podcasts you were supposed to send her, I think?”
I wince, remembering my promise to send her that list before Elliot and I went to Maine. Then I got caught up in the big Clara and Henry discovery, and Elliot and I saying I love you, and coming back to Boston and telling his family about everything we found out. Turns out, I’ve been kind of an asshole lately. “Tell her I promise I’ll send her the list as soon as we get off this call.”
“Her middle of the night insomnia thanks you.”
I chuckle before something occurs to me. “Hang on—why does she have middle of the night insomnia? Soph has been sleeping through the night for months, hasn’t she?”
“She has but…” Gabe breaks off, hesitating.
“But what?” I demand.
I hear Gabe and Molly murmuring to each other and a rustling on their end of the line. “Hey, Ames,” Molly says, her cheerful voice immediately making me smile.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I ask by way of a hello.
“Oh, that. Yeah, Gabe wanted to wait to tell you in person, but you know I don’t have that kind of patience, and I suck at keeping secrets. I’m pregnant.”
“You’re…” is all I can manage as tears flood my eyes.
“Yep.” I can hear the grin in her voice, and it has the tears spilling down my cheeks. “Baby number two is happening way sooner than we planned. The idea of two kids under two is low-key terrifying, and no margaritas for another forty damn weeks is not my idea of a good time, but we’re rolling with it.”
“Oh, my god, Mol,” I say through my tears. “I’m so fucking happy for you guys.”
“For us, Ames. All of us. You’re part of this family too, my sister just as much as you’re Gabe’s.”
“I really miss you guys,” I whisper through my tears. “I miss you so much.”
“We miss you too,” Molly says, voice laced with concern. “Amelia, are you okay?”
I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to get myself under control. “I’m okay. Or, at least, I will be. Do you think I can talk to Gabe for a few minutes?”
“Of course. Here he is. And Ames?”
“Yeah?”
“Call me. Day or night or anytime in between. For advice or help or if you need to bury a body or don’t know what color shoes to wear. If you need me, I’m here.”
I close my eyes, feeling so fucking grateful for this family of mine. It was so stupid to feel like I didn’t have a place with them. I glance at Elliot’s closed bedroom door and smile. I have a lot of places now. “I will, Mol. I promise.”
