Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,125
cutting off a taxicab in the process. He lays on the horn and flips me off, shouting a loud, Bostonian faaahhk you for added emphasis.
Oops.
“Anyway, I’m almost to her place, now. Long story short, the baby’s early, Mark’s across the country, and she needs us to watch Winnie, plus hold her hand and do those weird Lamaze breathing exercises while she pushes. Oh, and she really wants a cupcake.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to eat before labor. Something about all the pushing, combined with a full digestive track leads to unwanted bowel movem—”
“Ew! TMI, Shelby. TMI.”
She sighs. “I’m on my way.”
“I’m pulling up outside, now. See you soon.”
I toss my cell back into my purse as my eyes scan the street for a spot in front of Chrissy’s building. There’s not a single free space to be seen and I don’t have time to circle the block, so I swerve into a restricted tow-away zone in front of a fire hydrant, flip on my hazard lights, and race into Chrissy’s building without bothering to shut off my engine.
A car thief’s dream, I know.
But I’ll be back in a second. And it’s Back Bay — no one here is going to steal my shit-box of a car, sitting amidst all these Audis and BMWs, even if they keys are still in the ignition.
I fly up the stairs and throw open the apartment door, expecting to find Chrissy in tears, freaking out, mid-breakdown. Instead, I find her sitting placidly on the couch, her overnight birth-bag by her feet, strapping the velcro of Winnie’s tiny blue sneakers.
“I’m here!” I yell breathlessly, rushing into the room. “I’m here.”
Chrissy looks up at me. “Great. We’re ready.”
“Why aren’t you freaking out?” I ask, narrowing my eyes on her. “You should be freaking out.”
“Pretty sure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us, Gem.”
“Valid point,” I agree, crossing toward the couch and ruffling Winston’s silk-soft hair. “Hi, Winnie.”
He gives me a toothy grin, squeals, and reaches for me. I happily haul him into my arms, and he nestles into the crook of my neck with a gurgling laugh.
“Can you walk?” I ask Chrissy. “Or are you, like…”
She rolls her eyes and rises to her feet. “God, you’re dramatic, today. Just hold Winnie and grab my bag. His car seat is by the door.”
She begins waddling toward the exit, faster than I would’ve thought possible, and there’s no choice but to throw the strap of her bag over my shoulder and follow her out. For the entire elevator ride down, I try — and fail — to adopt Chrissy’s composure. I can’t help it — the last time she did this, I showed up at the hospital after it was all over, bearing balloons and a cuddly teddy bear. I didn’t prepare for this possibility. None of us did.
We bump into Shelby on the front steps.
“Yo,” she says, nodding to Chrissy.
“Yo,” Chrissy volleys back.
I stare from one to the other in disbelief. “And you both think I’m the crazy one.”
“You are,” they say in unison.
“Whatever, can we please go to the hospital, now?” I look pointedly at Chrissy. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re in labor.”
She just rolls her eyes at me.
“Shotgun!” Shelby calls.
“Did you just call shotgun for the ride to the hospital?”
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” She scoffs. “Chrissy has to sit in the back, anyway. There’s more room.”
“This is true,” Chrissy adds.
I sigh and look at Shelby. “I guess you’re leaving your car here, then?”
“You can’t,” Chrissy says. “They’ll tow you, unless you’ve got a resident sticker.”
“Crap,” Shelby mutters.
“We’ll both drive, then,” I decide, shifting Winnie in my arms, so I have a better grip. “I’ll bring Winnie in my car, you can drive Chrissy.”
Shelby looks guilty, glancing from her shiny, low-slung, two-seater Mercedes convertible to Chrissy. “The thing is, I actually just had the interior redone, and—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, I’ll ride with Gemma,” Chrissy says, heading for my car which is, thankfully, still idling by the curb. “And anyway, Shelbs, your convertible is so low to the ground, I’d need a fork-lift to get me out again.”
“Mine may not be any better,” I mutter. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t break down on the way there.”
“What?” Chrissy says, her voice suddenly shrill.
Shelby widens her eyes at me and shakes her head in warning.
“Nothing! Nothing.” I swallow. “I’ll get you there.”
While I strap Winston into his baby booster, Shelby helps Chrissy get settled in the backseat next to him. My car is rattling