you always have to point things out and be right?”
“Are the two of them okay after their fight?”
“She’s not talking to him today, but they’ll be fine. They argued over the way she was treating me.”
“Where’s her dad in all this?”
“He’s busy dating all over town. He’s around for the kids, but he’s not much help with Zara. I’m relying on King more and more for this kind of support.”
“Okay, I’m going to give you advice that you’ll hate. I agree with King. Stop being so strict on her. She’s fifteen and her hormones are raging through her. You need to find a balance between letting her explore her new feelings and experiencing everything life offers a fifteen-year-old, while keeping her safe. And, Lil, stop worrying that she’s going to get pregnant like you did. You’re stealing your joy from today by worrying over tomorrow.”
“You did not just quote your mother’s favourite quote at me, Birdie Morrison!”
I laugh again. “I so did because if I had to just sit through her quoting it at me, there’s no way you’re not gonna hear it today too.”
“I need wine for this conversation. You should go get your fruit popper out of the fridge and have a drink with me.”
“That was mean.”
“Well, if you’re gonna quote your mother at me, I’m gonna remind you that you can’t drink alcohol for a long time. And speaking of that, tonight’s the night, yes?”
“Yes. Winter should be home any minute now and he’s going to give me the injection.”
“I can hear the nerves in your voice. You okay?”
“Yes and no, but I’d be worse if I had to give myself the shot. You know I hate needles.”
“Yeah,” she says, pausing briefly before saying, “Shit, I’ve gotta go. King just arrived home and he’s in a mood. Text me and let me know how it goes. I’ll call you tomorrow to check in. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Lil. Don’t kill Zara.”
“Ugh,” she says and ends the call.
I think about our friendship while I finish making lasagne for dinner. We’ve grown close over the last year. My move to Melbourne didn’t end our friendship; it only made us closer because now we talk a lot on the phone. While Cleo is my rock at all times, she doesn’t understand what it’s like to be married to a club president like Lily does. The worry over something happening to our husbands, the stress when they’re away taking care of club business, the nights they don’t come home because of club stuff. Lily understands all of these things and why I chose this life. I’d be lost without her some days.
Once the lasagne is in the oven, I head into the bedroom and freshen up. I also check my phone for a text from Winter. He said he’d be home around 6:00 p.m. and it’s nearly 6:30 p.m. I don’t find a text, which is unusual. Winter is hard-core about punctuality. He also knows I worry, so he never fails to call or text with an update if his plans change.
I send him a text and then decide to watch some TV to take my mind off everything; however fifteen minutes later, I’m growing more anxious than I was. I still haven’t heard back from Winter. The only time I know not to expect a reply is when he’s doing something for the club that prevents him from staying in touch. And those are times I know he’s in potential danger.
Shit.
Another half hour passes with still no word. I’ve imagined a wide range of scenarios of what could be happening and am trying to talk myself into believing his bike broke down and his phone battery went flat. My brain can get on board with the bike breaking down, but not the battery going flat, simply because my husband is fastidious about everything, including charging his phone. Damn you, Winter Morrison, for being so meticulous and predictable. If he was neither of those things, I could believe so many more possibilities right now.
As it draws closer to 8:00 p.m., I accept I’ll be giving myself my injection tonight. The doctor advised to give the shot between 6:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m. each night, so I can’t wait for Winter any longer.
I grab the vial from the fridge, and the syringe, trying to ignore the nerves running through me. Needles and me do not go well together, and on top of that, I can’t help but feel disappointed Winter isn’t here