But her nosy butt had to see who was here. She walked up to Milan and said, “Hi. Who are you?”

Milan’s face looked like she had smelled something bad. “Well, that’s a little rude.” Her tone pissed me off, but that was nothing new. I had reminded her of Carrie’s name several times, but she always insisted on calling her “your other child.” “Your other child” gets a bigger apartment than Junior. You spend more time with “your other child” than mine.

Blaire stood and marched over to pick up Carrie. “Actually, you’re in her home, uninvited, so it’s not actually rude at all. What’s rude is ringing people’s doorbells at almost ten at night,” she snapped at Milan before turning to take Carrie back upstairs.

I went into the laundry room, dug through my toolbox, and found a screwdriver. I took it back to Milan and said, “Here you go, and it’s probably best not to ring our doorbell this late because Carrie is always asleep by this time.”

“Well, I tried to knock, but you didn’t answer,” she said accusingly.

Because I was fucking busy! “Okay, well, it’s too late now. She’s awake.”

“Hmph. Just tell her to go back to sleep.” Yeah, like it’s that easy. Then she frowned and said, “I might actually need you to hold this very heavy piece up while I screw it. It will only take a second.”

I rubbed my hand over my face, really not wanting to go. “Does it need to be done right now, Milan?”

“Yes, Axel. It does,” she snapped. “I can’t move on to the next part until I get it done. And since I’m having to do everything all by myself, I would think you’d be happy to help me.” She rested her hand on her belly, her chin lifting defiantly. “This is your baby, too, Axel. Don’t forget that.”

Like I could.

“Hold on. Let me leave Blaire a note,” I sighed. She rolled her eyes like that was the biggest inconvenience of her life. I grabbed a pen and pad off the desk and scribbled, “Be right back. Meet me in the fort! Love you.” I left it propped up on the coffee table so she couldn’t miss it and followed Milan out the door.

We got down to her apartment and went up the stairs to what would be the nursery. There were screws and crib pieces lying everywhere. “Okay, which part did you need me to hold?”

“Well, they’re all pretty heavy. But I’m on step one. I just can’t figure out what it means. Where are parts A and B, and where do I find screw C1?”

“They should all be labeled,” I said, picking up a couple of pieces and looking for the labels. “Where are the stickers?”