I can’t do this. The solution can’t be worse than the problem.

I call Ian. I put him on speaker.

“Hey,” he says. He sounds groggy. “What’s up?”

“I feel sick again,” I tell him.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Are Scarlett and Matty there? Do you want me to come by?”

“Nah,” I say. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost two.”

“A.m.?”

“Yeah,” he says. “You don’t sound good. You sure you don’t want me to come?”

“I’m sure. Just wanted to hear your voice. Hey, do you remember when we got in that fight sophomore year because I said Oasis is overrated?”

“I tried to put that out of my mind,” he says. He fucking loves Oasis. “It wasn’t a fight.”

“Spirited debate,” I say. “You like me anyway? Even though I think Oasis sucks?”

“You’re wrong. But, yes, I like you anyway.”

If he can get past that, then maybe the werewolf thing won’t be that big a deal.

“Promise you’ll never play me ‘Wonderwall’?”

“I’m not going to promise you that,” he says. “Won’t do it.”

“Fine, fine. It’s late. I should let you go. My mom and stepdad are coming, and the baby is due, so this week’s gonna be a shit show.”

“You know where to find me,” he says. “Hope you feel better. Good night.”

“Night,” I say. I hang up and go right to sleep.

—

“Hi, baby,” Mom says. I open my eyes to find her kneeling beside me. “You look terrible.”

“Good to see you, too.”

“What can I do?”

“Actually, can I have a sandwich?”

She’s back five minutes later with turkey and Swiss on a roll. She sits on the bed while I eat on the floor.

“Do you think it’s the flu?” she asks me.

“No,” I say. “It’s nothing contagious.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s cramps,” I lie.

“I don’t miss cramps,” she says. “But wait until you get hot flashes.”

“Happily. I’ll happily wait.”

“Scarlett’s really in for it,” she tells me. “I remember my labor with you two. Hellish. Hellish, hellish, hellish.”

“Yeah, would keep that to yourself for the time being.”

“We’ll see how she does,” she says. “It’s worth it, of course. Don’t be discouraged by what you see in the delivery room. Maybe don’t look.”

“Good tip. I’m going to get some rest. Thanks for the sandwich.”

“Come down when you’re ready. Guy wants to say hello. So soon! So soon we’ll get to meet the baby!”

She closes the door, leaving me alone to stew in the realization that, yes, any day now a baby will live in this house. A tiny, fragile being.

I wait until it’s exactly twenty-four hours since my last dose, then force myself into the bathroom to put another drop of tonic under my tongue.

I tell myself maybe it won’t be quite so bad this time.

But it’s worse.

—

Scarlett comes into my room in the middle of the night and shakes me awake.