I wrinkled my nose and turned around, irritated that I couldn't reminisce or have a moment of internal dialog without the sounds of fighting children in the background.
"Jessica Abigail! No hitting! Ezra! Don't try to put toys up your brother's nose! Emerson! Stop screaming! James! Stop farting!"
It was quiet for a full minute before they all began chatting again as if nothing had happened. I rolled my eyes and glared at Shepley.
"Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?" I said, my eyes narrowing.
"Give me a dirty look when the kids are driving you nuts? Like I magically impregnated you when you weren't looking?"
"That is your DNA back there. It's your fault."
Shepley frowned, turning on his blinker and surging forward so he could continue to follow Travis's truck instead of being stuck at a red light. He stretched his neck to peer into the rearview mirror, checking that Agent Blevins was still behind us.
"He probably just ran the red light," I said. "He's a federal agent on duty. I'm sure he's not worried about a ticket."
"He did," Shepley said. "Damn. This is something."
"You mean scary?" I asked.
The kids got quiet.
"Is Mom going to be okay?" Jessica asked.
I closed my eyes. It was so easy to forget when they were all chattering away that they were still paying attention. Kids could ignore us all day, but the moment we utter something we don't want them to hear, they develop superhero powers. A few times, I was sure Ezra could hear me whisper the F word under my breath through two walls. Shepley glanced over at me and interlaced his fingers in mine. He'd told me hundreds of times how proud it made him to watch me mother our boys, and I took pride in it, too. They were messy and rough and sometimes deaf, but I handled it. Shepley didn't think I'd never made a mistake, and I loved him even more for that. I could lose my shit, threaten, yell, and cry, but my boys didn't want perfect. They wanted present.
Shepley pulled into the parking lot near the ambulance bay, and we unbuckled the kids while Travis carried Abby into the Emergency Room. Someone must have called ahead because a nurse was already at the door waiting with a wheelchair.
Trenton fell behind, holding Jim's cane in one hand and hooking his dad's arm with the other. After Abby had settled into the seat, she waved to her in-laws and then to us, blowing a kiss to the kids as the nurse wheeled her inside. We had just stepped through the sliding door of the ER waiting room when they disappeared behind double doors. Travis was walking next to Abby's wheelchair, holding her hand. He was encouraging Abby to breathe, telling her how good she was doing, and how amazing and strong she was. We followed them until they slipped behind the doors. That was when Jessica looked up at Agent Blevins, enormous and towering over us all, and began to cry.
Trenton kneeled beside her. "Mama's okay, baby girl. She's done this before. You just don't remember."
"Are the babies going to be okay?" James asked.
"There's just one this time, buddy," Shepley said, mussing his nephew's hair with his fingers.
"They haven't even named it yet," Jessica cried.
Trenton picked up Jessica and carried her away from the double doors, her gangly legs hanging loosely while he walked. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he flattened her tangled hair against the back of her head, kissing her temple and swaying from side to side.
"You okay, Jim?" I asked, touching his shoulder. He still looked half-asleep and a bit confused.
"I guess they'll tell us where to wait?" Jim asked.
I nodded. "I'll ask someone. You can sit if you want."
He looked around for the closest chair and chose one next to Trenton, who was still standing with Jessica in his arms.
"I'll go," Shepley said, kissing my cheek.
He approached the admissions desk, waiting for the clerk to finish up with an elderly couple. Once they walked away, he began speaking with her. She seemed pleasant, pointing and nodding and smiling. Shepley patted the desk a couple of times before saying thank you and then returned to us.
"They're taking her to the maternity wing on the third floor. They said we should go to the waiting room up there."
"Then that's where we'll go," I said.
Agent Blevins was in my peripheral, using his tiny radio, I assumed to update the person on the other end of our whereabouts. I knew he couldn't tell us any more information, so I tried not to dwell on it. An entire department of people in the FBI knew more about what danger our family was facing than we did. The very principle, even beyond a sound reason, infuriated me, but I had to focus on Abby.
We found an elevator and crowded inside--all eleven of us--including Agent Blevins. The elevator dipped a bit when he stepped on, but he didn't seem worried. Olive pressed the button, and the doors swept shut. The kids were uncharacteristically quiet while the red digital number above the door climbed with each floor. Finally, the door opened, and Trenton stepped off, the rest of us filing out behind him.
Trenton immediately fished out his phone, looking at Agent Blevins. "Have you heard from Perkins yet?"
"He's arrived at the location. He's currently waiting for Mrs. Maddox to enter the vehicle. There is a security guard presenting a small problem."
Trenton smiled. "That's Drew. He's the bouncer. Good kid. I should call her. Tell her it's okay to leave with him."
Agent Blevins touched his ear. "She's in the car, sir. Agent Perkins will deliver her to the hospital shortly."
Trenton seemed satisfied and put his phone away before approaching the nurse's station. A woman with big green eyes and a platinum blond bob led us to the waiting room, even though most of us knew where it was already. Travis and Abby's third child would be the sixth Maddox grandbaby born in Eakins. We were very familiar with the maternity ward.
"In here," the nurse said. "Snacks and drink machines are out and around the corner." She gestured to the hall and to her right. "Someone will be in to update you as soon as they know something."
"The baby is early, but he'll be all right, right?" I asked.
The nurse smiled. "Our entire staff is waiting and ready to make sure he's given the best care possible."
I turned to my family. "I guess he heard Stella was coming and couldn't wait to meet her," I said with a contrived smile. No one responded except for Shepley, who simply patted my leg. For James and Jessica's sake, I tried not to show any worry. Abby's due date was still seven weeks away, and even though the delivery might go smoothly, we wouldn't know how the baby was doing until after he was born. It was enough of a hint that the adults were so quiet, very different from the giddy excitement the other times our family had spent time in that room.
The nurse returned with blankets and pillows. "These are if the kids want to rest for a bit. Abby's water broke. They've done an ultrasound, and the doctor has evaluated the baby. He feels that to avoid the risk of infection and complications for both mom and baby, he will let the labor proceed."
"Can I see her?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
The nurse thought about it for half a second and then nodded. "Of course."
I kissed Shepley quickly on the lips and waved to the kids. He switched off the light, and Trenton and Olive began making pallets on the couches. The kids whined before crawling in.
"Mommy!" Emerson cried.
"I'll be right down the hall," I said. "Daddy will tuck you in, and I'll sit with you when I get back."
"When will you be back?" Eli asked, pouting. He was trying not to cry.
"Soon. Before you fall asleep. Snuggle with your brother until then."
Eli turned his back to me, hooking his arm over Emerson. Shepley sat next to Ezra and winked at me before I left them to follow the nurse to Abby's room.
The hard soles of my shoes echoed in the hallway, the warm color of the wallpapered walls a contrast to the cold, white tile floors. Generic pictures of mother and babies, traditional families with infomercial smiles, lined the walls, sellin
g their brand of normality. Most people would go home dealing with a colicky baby, or postpartum depression, or the struggles of a broken family. Abuse, drugs, insecurity, poverty, fear. First-time moms left this place every day, going home with the vision we see in every diaper commercial of a mother rocking her sleeping infant in an immaculate nursery. Within a month, those same moms would be begging their baby in the wee hours of the morning to sleep, answering the door with vomit on her shirt, and choosing whether to shower or eat, clean, or sleep. I wondered how many four-member families actually left the maternity ward financially stable and emotionally whole because our baby was coming into the world greeted by two great parents who were crazy in love and a large, loving extended family yet still needed the protection of federal agents. What was normal, anyway?
I paused in the middle of the hall, the circumstances finally coming together. Abby's father, Mick, was tangled with the Vegas mafia. She'd had more than one run-in with them to keep him alive. My intuition told me Mick was involved, but I couldn't figure out what Thomas had to do with it. Why would they go after him?
The nurse stopped in front of a door and flattened one hand on the wood, the other on the handle. "Everything all right?" she asked, pausing when she realized I wasn't right behind her.
"Yes," I said, joining her outside the door.
Just as she began to push the door open, another nurse yanked on it from the inside, nearly running into us.
"I was just bringing her sister in to--"
"I'm sorry," the nurse said. "No visitors at this time. NICU will be standing by. She's having the baby tonight." She shouldered past us, and I peeked in as the door slowly closed. Several more nurses were working feverishly around Abby, but I couldn't see her. I caught just a glimpse of Travis, looking over his shoulder at me with fear in his eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TAYLOR
THE MOMENT THE WHEELS OF THE PLANE touched down at O'Hare in Chicago, I switched my phone off the airplane mode and watched as the messages filled my lock screen. Before we'd taken off, Dad said everyone was at the hospital with Travis and Abby. According to the messages, the baby still hadn't arrived, but Abby was close.
I scrolled down the partial messages before stopping at one and tapping the screen. It was a group message for Tyler, Falyn, Ellie, and me from Shepley.
A federal agent will be at baggage claim to bring you all to the hospital. He'll have a van, plate number 978 GOV. DO NOT get a ride with anyone else. Not even a cab. Will explain later.
I frowned and looked back at my brother, holding up my phone. He was a few rows back but nodded, knowing what I meant. I tilted my phone to show Falyn, who was sitting across the aisle from Hollis and me with Hadley. She leaned over, squinting her eyes. She'd needed glasses for at least two years but refused.
"Can you see it?" I asked.
"Yes, I can see it," she snapped back, confusing my need for her be informed with a dig.
"Baby," I began, but she was already looking out the window, hugging Hadley to her side.
I sat back, resting my head against the headrest.
"She's just tired," Hollis said.
I patted his knee without making eye contact. We were all tired. It made me sad to hear Hollis trying to make excuses for why we didn't listen to each other anymore. Somewhere along the way, we started hearing insults instead of questions. I sighed. I didn't know how to fix it.
The seat belt sign turned off, and a ding sounded over the PA system. Hollis jumped up, opening the bin and handing Hadley her carry-on to her before getting Falyn's and mine. He made me prouder every day. Moving to Colorado Springs had made him into a little man, trying to take care of everyone.
I hugged him to me, kissed his head, and then gestured to his sister. "I just got a text from Uncle Shep. Aunt Abby is having her baby, so they sent a driver. Don't run off. Both of you stay where I can see you."
They nodded.
"I mean it," I continued. "It's important. You can't even go to the bathroom alone."
"What's going on, Dad?" Hollis asked. "Does it have to do with Uncle Tommy?"
"Yes, but we don't know what."
They nodded again, trading glances.
We moved in a slow line down the aisle and out of the fuselage, staying in one unit with Tyler's family up the Jetway and into the terminal. I could tell Tyler was on edge, looking around with his family's bags either on his back, over his shoulders, or being pulled by a handle. Ellie was holding their sleeping son, keeping his head steady on her shoulder.
"What do you think's going on?" Tyler asked me. He kept his voice low.
I shook my head. "I don't know. Sounds like Tommy wasn't the only target."
"Like they're after the family? Why?"
I shrugged. "Could be a million reasons."
Tyler frowned. "You have a better imagination than I do. I can't think of one."
"Dad was an investigator. Abby's dad is a gambler. Remember when Trex came to question us about Travis and the fire? Everyone has an enemy. Maybe Travis or Abby inadvertently made the wrong one. Wasn't she raised around mobsters in Vegas?"
Tyler didn't respond, but I could tell his thoughts were spinning.
"Abby was raised around mobsters?" Ellie asked.
"Sort of," Falyn said. "They don't really talk about it. She was born in Vegas. Her dad was a fairly famous poker player. Then he started losing, but he didn't stop gambling. He lost everything and got in pretty deep with some loan sharks. Abby had to go to Vegas just before she and Travis got married to bail him out. They were going to kill him."
"Whoa," Ellie said. "But she's really good at poker, right? She went there to win the money?"
Falyn nodded. "She won most of it."
"How did they get the rest of it?" Ellie asked.
Falyn made a face, drifting off into thought. "I'm not really sure. Do you know?" she asked me.
I shook my head. "They've never really said."
"You've never asked?" Ellie said.
Tyler shook his head. "I figured if they wanted me to know, they'd tell me."
We arrived at baggage claim, looking at the screens.
"Thirteen," Falyn said, dragging Hadley by the hand.
"Hold on," Tyler said, trying to get a handle on their roller bags.
"I can help," a woman said with a smile. She was wearing dark slacks, a button-down shirt and a dark blazer, her sunglasses hanging from where the top button of her blouse was undone. She flashed her credentials that were clipped inside of her blazer and then tucked them away.
My stomach felt sick, and I looked back at Falyn, who was watching Alyssa Davies's eyes turned soft when she looked down at Hollis.
"Cute kid," Alyssa said. "I'll be driving you to the Eakins hospital."
Taylor and Ellie were unfazed, but Falyn looked at me, confused and angry. Alyssa was the woman I'd taken home from the bar during the week Falyn and I had broken up. Falyn needed space, so I left for California to visit my brother Thomas in San Diego. He'd taken me to a local bar to cry in my beer, and I met Alyssa, Thomas's colleague. A few weeks later, Alyssa ended up pregnant and gave me the opportunity to take full custody before opting for an abortion. She carried Hollis to term, and Falyn and I stood outside the hallway of a San Diego hospital while she labored and gave birth. The nurses handed my son to me, and Alyssa returned to her life without looking back.
"Wait, wait, wait," I said, holding up my hands. "You're FBI?"
"I am," Alyssa said. "I realize this is somewhat awkward ..."
"Somewhat awkward?" Falyn repeated.
"But you're in advertising. With Thomas," I said, bewildered.
Alyssa sighed. "You're my assignment. I'm all you've got. If you ask me, I'm the best one for the job since I have slightly more invested in getting you from A to B in one piece than any other agent, and ... I'm a badass."
Hollis smiled. Falyn pulled him against her front with her free hand, hanging on tightly to Hadley with the other. Alyssa--
or Agent Davies--represented more of a threat to our family than our failing marriage did.
"Can we see those credentials again?" Falyn asked.
Alyssa pulled her ID until it unclipped from her pocket and handed it to Falyn. "Look it over, but please be quick. We don't want to stay in one place too long."
Falyn studied the ID, and then handed it to me, glaring at Alyssa. "Do you even work with Thomas?"
"Yes," she said simply.
"So you're in advertising too?" I asked, handing her ID to Tyler.
"No, Thomas is FBI," Ellie said, realizing the truth as she said the words. "And you..." she trailed off, looking at Falyn with sympathetic eyes.
Everything clicked, and all at once, every lie Thomas had ever told me boiled in my blood.
Tyler offered the ID to Ellie, but she declined. "We should go. This is awkward as fuck," he said.
We followed a diligent Alyssa to a black van with dark windows. Tyler climbed into the back with Ellie. There was already a car seat ready for Gavin. As Tyler and Ellie struggled to strap in their unconscious toddler, Alyssa buckled in and checked all of her mirrors, radioing in to someone that we were all accounted for and en route.
"Falyn," I said, reaching for her hand. She yanked it away, and I clenched my teeth. "How in Christ's name is this my fault?"
"Shut up," she hissed. From hairline to neckline, red splotches began to form. Her eyes watered like they always did when she was embarrassed.
Alyssa wasn't paying attention to our spat, but she did look in the rearview mirror at Hollis more than once. I was waiting for Falyn to catch her and say something, but when their eyes met, Falyn took the high road.
Hollis, to my surprise, rested his head against Falyn's shoulder. She put her arm around him, and both of them seemed to relax. Falyn ran her fingers through his hair, softly singing the same tune she'd sang to him the night we brought him home. Alyssa watched with curious eyes, without judgment or jealousy, like she was observing the passing cars.
Hollis had no clue he'd just made my life a lot easier and his mom more at ease. Falyn leaned down to kiss his forehead and then looked out the window, still humming.
I rested my arm at the top of the bench seat, turning around to face my brother. He and Ellie were both staring at me, and Gavin was still sleeping, his head propped against the side of the car seat with his mouth gaping open. Ellie offered an encouraging smile. We'd spent long nights talking after Falyn left. Ellie had been to therapy enough for all of us, and I'd benefitted from it. I'd told her more than once that her advice and friendship kept me going.
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