“Sleep, honey,” I soothed, hoping she'd listen. Joe was face-down on the king bed, practically snoring, some nasty raised scratches on the backs of his hands making me worry. Darla needed love and care and attention as she shook out who she was from all these new events, but I couldn't be everything to everyone.
I was human.
I needed sleep.
“Who can sleep after that? Besides, no way am I falling sleep here.”
Joe reached into his front pocket and shook a bottle of pills at her. “Here.”
“What's that?” she asked.
I snatched it. “God, no. Don't take anything Joe offers you. Remember the flight to Eden?”
“No,” she said.
“My point exactly.”
“It's just Ambien,” Joe muttered. “Nothing bad. Now leave me alone so I can crawl out of the giant wormhole in the ceiling.” He began to pretend to swim.
“Right. Nothing bad,” Darla said.
“What could help you?” I asked her as she began to cry. “Food? Ice cream? Alcohol? Sex?”
“Trevor,” she said slowly. “I meant I couldn't fall sleep here. In this bedroom. Good grief, look around.”
Completely in my own world, I hadn't noticed what Darla had: the taxidermy.
“It's just some squirrels and a porcupine and.... wait a minute,” I said slowly, looking at each animal's feet.
“Right?” she said, seeing what I saw. “It's creepy-weird. I'd rather sleep in the car.”
“Whas wrong wid dis place now?” Joe muttered.
“Looks like Doc Oglethorpe hired Calvin to stuff some dead animals as part of some AnFet kink,” I whispered in his ear.
“So what. Your kink is not my kink.”
“All of the stuffed animals have ruby high heel slippers on their feet.”
Joes eyes flew wide open. “Huh?”
“Doc Oglethorpe had a seriously twisted Judy Garland obsession going.”
“So what?”
“There are dead animals wearing Manolo Blahniks staring down at us while we sleep, Joe.”
“Is it any worse than shit we saw on the Island of Eden?”
I had to grant him that. “No.”
“Then let's sleep and wake up and deal with it in the morning. This is the only bedroom with a king-size bed.”
“JOOOOOOOEEEE,” Darla groaned.
“Ah, God, you sound like my mother.” He handed her the bottle again. “This always works on her. It's like calling chickens back to a henhouse.” He shook the bottle, making a rattling sound. “Here, Darla Darla! Here, Darla – oof!”
She punched him in the balls.
“What?” he choked out. “Was? That? For?”
“You compared me to Mavis.”
“Did. Not.”
“You damn well did. And I don't appreciate it.”
“My. Balls. Are. In. My. Sinuses.” Joe snorted hard, exhaling as if he could shoot them out his nostrils.
“Good. Maybe they'll slough off some dead skin and give your brain a few ounces of mass.” She gave him a sick grin. “Huh. I feel better after doing that.”
“You do it any time, honey,” I said to her, as Joe cut me a glare like a diamond drill.
“You know?” she perked up. “I really do feel better right now.” Concern showed in her eyes as she looked at Joe. “How are your arms?”
“Arms. Not. Problem,” he gasped.
“Sorry. You deserved the ball punch.”
“No,” he and I said in unison.
“I'm going to try to sleep,” she said, jumping up, closing the room's curtains. A small white noise machine was on the nightstand next to her, and she found it, turned it on to a brown noise sound we all knew well from when we traveled, and rested between us, eyes shut.
Joe sounded like The Little Engine That Could.
Could Die of a Broken Testicle, that is.
“You need anything?” I asked. He shook his head.
And that's when we all settled in, Joe leaving the covers off, on his back, knees up, his nads using gravity to shake off some of the pain, Darla in the middle of us, and me?
I just tingled all over and prepared myself for a few hours of playing the insidious game of “What if?”
Because Joe had just fallen through a goddamned ceiling.
Darla's mom had an unexpected baby.
And bad luck comes in threes.
Chapter 9
Darla
My phone was having a fit on the nightstand.
And I was still clothed.
Living with two hot, horny guys meant that sleeping with anything covering my body was a rarity, so that alone was a shock.
The call from Mama topped it, though.
“Darla? They're kicking us out. Headed home. Little Cal passed all his tests with flying colors, my diabetes and blood pressure are under control, ain't nothing wrong with either of us and now I wanna go home and get back to being boring. Can you and Trevor and Joe head on over to our house to get it ready?”
I looked at the clock. “What time is it, Mama?”
“Four a.m.”
“WHAT?” I sat up suddenly, disoriented. Trev and Joe were out cold, both sleeping on their stomachs, Joe above the covers, Trevor under. “How'd that happen?”
“The world kept spinning on its axis, I guess. Nothing stops for people like us. And now the nurse says they can discharge me and the baby around noon today. I need to ask you for some help.”
“Of course, Mama! That's why we're here. To help.”
To my horror, Mama's next words included... tears?
“That's – that's the best part of being your mama, Darla. You're such a good girl.” Sniff. “So sweet and nice. I hope I can have a boy half as nice and caring as you are. I just hope he don't move away and leave me like you did.”
Hoo boy.
Was that a compliment with a shit sandwich chaser?
“Uh, thanks?”
“I'm being honest. You may not like my opinions, but I got a right to 'em.”
“Is Calvin with you?”
“He's asleep on this silly little fold out chair. I'm about to send him home, though. But Jenna and her babies are there, so I need to ask you to help.”
“Sure. When I wake up – ”
“You're awake now.”
“Um, yeah.”
“Walmart's open 24 hours.”
There is nothing like Mama Logic. Point taken. She wanted me to do it now.
“Okay. What you need?”
“Ev'rythin'!” she wailed into the phone, the sound like a wounded animal. “I – I came into the hospital thinking my appendix was burstin' and instead I got a baby! Jenna can lend us some of her old stuff, but her little PJ is only six weeks old, so we need all new! Carseat, clothes, bottles, formula, diapers – you name it. It's like I went and had a twin six weeks after hers was born.”
I rubbed my eyes and stared at my phone's clock. Two minutes past four. Huh. We'd been asleep for twelve hours.
Sounded about right.
My head had an an ache around the fringes of it, like I was wearing a too-tight baseball cap. Maybe I was dehydrated. Maybe I was stressed. Maybe I'd blown a blood vessel from stress.