We’d loved Alana. She was a year younger than us, and when we’d met in a co-ed group home, all uncontrollable teens, we’d bonded. I think, perhaps back then, Alana had a crush on River, but he’d never seen her as more than a little sister to protect. Just as I had.
And we’d failed her.
Nova took the number and punched it into her phone. She snapped a picture of Huey and sent it across immediately.
River smiled. “I’ll add you to a group chat, so you can send it to us all in one go.”
She finished her coffee in one huge gulp and stood. Rigby disappeared to pay the bill, and River and I stood as well. “We’ll help you to your car.”
We navigated out of the cafe under the scrutiny of the whole crowd, and I hoped to hell no one had been listening in on our conversation. Otherwise, we were all going to be prime time news later.
We made it to her car, and I noticed she had a baby spit stain down her back. I forced myself not to grin. I helped her unclip the car seat from the stroller, then carefully clicked it into the attachment in the car. I knew this brand from when we were setting up Alana. It was top of the line and had the highest safety rating on the market. Nova didn’t skimp on safety, and I could respect that.
Didn’t help that the rest of her car was a death trap on wheels, though.
I stroked a finger over Huey’s soft, downy hair and stepped away. Rigby came up to join us, and I briefly wondered if maybe we were too intimidating, standing here all together. River stroked Huey’s cheek, and even Rigby gave the baby a soft kiss. He was an easy baby to love.
Nova walked around to the driver’s seat. “I want you to know I’ll think about it, okay?”
“That’s all we ask. I leave on Friday, so call me if you have any more questions, or need help or anything.”
She nodded and hopped in her car. The car took two tries to turn over, and then she was driving away. I shook my head, the edge of grief still sitting there in my chest, where it had been ever since we heard Alana had died and Huey was in care.
Alana had never wanted her child to be in foster care like we had. I’d promised her that after Huey was born. But still, he was driving away with a stranger, and I hated it.
“Even if she says no, we should get her a new car. That shitbox isn’t safe,” Rigby grumbled, and I agreed.
“She’s going to say yes,” River grunted, heading back to the Range Rover. “She doesn’t have a choice.”
We would do what we had to, but I kind of hoped that Nova did the right thing. I didn’t want to break her, but I would if it meant keeping my word.
I hadn’t expected her to call me. She seemed like the kind of person who’d do it all herself, even to her own detriment. I could relate to that. So three days later, when the phone rang in the middle of the night, I was awake and on my feet before I’d even answered the phone. I nearly dropped it when I saw her name on the screen.
“Nova, are you okay? Is Huey okay?” I could hear him crying in the background, and her crying at the other end of the phone.
“I’m sorry to call so late.” She sniffed. “But I can’t get him to sleep. He just keeps crying. He only sleeps during the day, and I—” Her voice wobbled, from either tears or from her bouncing an obviously distressed Huey. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong and I’m so tired and I’m worried that I’ll fall asleep and drop him or hurt him and I can’t—” She let out a sob, and my heart broke. “I didn’t want to call my neighbor because then she’ll know I’m a failure and that’s stupid and I’m so sorry…”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, Nova. Unlock your front door and go lie down with Huey on the bed. If you fall asleep, he’ll be safe there until I arrive. Can you do that, sweetheart?”
Her sobbing, “Yes,” came down the line, and I was already jogging down the stairs of Alana’s apartment building.
Packing up Alana’s life was painful for many reasons. One, it was evidence that she’d been hiding how hard she was doing it from us. There was barely anything in her apartment that wasn’t baby stuff. It was a by-product of being a foster kid, and something both River and I had worked really hard to shake—the inability to accumulate more than two trash bags worth of stuff.
I listened at the other end of the line as Huey screamed his little lungs out, Nova sniffling as she moved around to do what I asked. “You still okay over there?”
“Yeah.” She hiccuped. “It’s okay, Huey. Shhh,” she whispered, her voice rough. “Devan’s coming, then you won’t be stuck with just me.”
God, I didn’t know who I wanted to hug more in that moment. “Are you in bed now?”
“Just building a blanket wall so he doesn’t fall out,” she almost slurred. Jesus Christ, how fucking tired was she? “I’ve laid him down, but he’s so sad. I’ve fed him and rocked him, and his diaper is dry. I’d normally take him for a drive in the car, but I’m worried I’ll—”
I knew what she was worried about. “It’s okay, Nova. You’re doing the right thing. You made Huey safe, and that’s what all moms should do. There’s no rule that says you have to do it alone.”
The phone call switched over to the speakers of the car. She didn’t say anything else, but I listened to the sound of Huey’s cries—and her soothing noises that were more sobs than anything else—the whole way to her house.
She’d left the door unlocked like I asked, and when I walked into the room, she was still awake, though her whole face looked strained with the effort, her eyes opening and closing slowly. I walked over and picked up Huey, putting him over my shoulder and rocking him softly. Nova curled up in a ball, her sobs muffled by her pillow.
Reaching down, I put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “It’s okay. Sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”