Если я останусь

           "Shouldn’twecallDad?"Iasked.

           Momlaughedatthat."Please,it’senoughformetohavetobirththisbaby.Idon’tneedtodealwithhim,too.We’llcallhimwhenI’mreadytopop.I’dmuchratherhaveyouaround."

           SoMomandIwanderedaroundthemall,stoppingeverycoupleminutessoshecouldsitdownandtakedeepbreathsandsqueezemywristsoharditleftangryredmarks.Still,itwasaweirdlyfunandproductivemorning.WeboughtpresentsforGranandGramps(asweaterwithanangelonitandanewbookaboutAbrahamLincoln)andtoysforthebabyandanewpairofrainbootsforme.Usuallywewaitedfortheholidaysalestobuystufflikethat,butMomsaidthatthisyearwe’dbetoobusychangingdiapers."Now’snotthetimetobecheap.Ow,fuck.Sorry,Mia.Comeon.Let’sgogetpie."

           WewenttoMarieCallender’s.Momhadasliceofpumpkinandofbananacream.Ihadblueberry.Whenshewasdone,shepushedherplateawayandannouncedshewasreadytogotothemidwife.

           We’dneverreallytalkedaboutmybeingthereornotbeingthere.IwenteverywherewithMomandDadatthatpoint,soitwasjustkindofassumed.Wemetanerve-rackedDadatthebirthingcenter,whichwasnothinglikeadoctor’soffice.Itwasthegroundfloorofahouse,theinsidedeckedoutwithbedsandJacuzzitubs,themedicalequipmentdiscreetlytuckedaway.ThehippiemidwifeledMominsideandDadaskedmeifIwantedtocome,too.Bynow,IcouldhearMomscreamingprofanities.