She’d changed out of her wet work clothes into a pair of black leggings and a big sweater, a pair of snow boots on her feet for the inevitable and unenviable trek to the hospital. It was only twenty minutes to get there, but considering the road conditions and the scarcity of sand trucks out in Mormor’s neighborhood, it’d take at least double that, which is why Mom said we’d head over when my contractions were five and a half minutes apart.

So, soon.

We’d be leaving soon.

I looked out the window from my position on the couch. The snow had gathered in the corners of the windowpanes. It was flurrying so hard, I couldn’t see Mormor despite her winter coat being an eye-stabbing bright pink with reflective striping along the seams.

“What if we can’t get there?” I asked in a whisper.

“Four-wheel drive, poppet. We’ll get there. You texted Jack?”

“Yeah. I texted everybody.”

“Good.”

Mom had been the one to call Dr. Cardiff, who reassured Mom she lived close to the hospital and for me not to fret—she’d be available. I clung to that knowledge; I was getting scared. More scared than I’d ever been in my life, thanks to the pain and uncertainty. It all seemed so overwhelming suddenly, like all of those classes, all of those meetings with counselors seemed to have been for nothing. I cried about it, and my mom held me tight, telling me in her softest, sweetest voice that she loved me and wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

It helped. But what helped the most was Leaf.

The contractions were at a steady five and a half minutes at 11:00 p.m. I texted Leaf to tell him we were packing up the car, that I’d be sure to message him when I got to the hospital to let him know I was safe. He’d kept in touch with me all day, relaying messages from Erin and Morgan that they were pulling for me, too. His frustration that he couldn’t be there was evident, but the snow had come on strong, and no one in their right mind would jump on the roads in that storm. Mr. Leon had been sympathetic but firm that Leaf was staying home until it was safer to travel.

It wasn’t ideal.

So instead, right before I was supposed to leave the house, he FaceTimed me on his phone. I heard the telltale tones and picked up, hoping I didn’t look like a sweaty ham, but totally aware that I looked like a sweaty ham. Labor uglied you up right quick.

“Hey, you,” he said, his voice low. “Dad’s off tonight. Don’t want him to hear me on the phone so late. I think he’d understand, but... Parents, you know?”

“Hey, you. We’re heading out,” I said. “Mom’s getting my coat.”