Dielive [ENGLISH]

TWO

MOM is pregnant.

What kind of joke is this? Obviously, this is Phil's child.

"Hi, honey, how was the flight?" Mom asked, reaching over to hug me first.

"Okay, Mom, but what is this?"

I couldn't believe it. No wonder, they had only been married for six months, but she was already pregnant.

"You're going to have a sibling soon, Nad."

Mom's green eyes were still the same as mine, this time shining with joy, but not with me. I was still confused. If my birth had made it difficult for her marriage to Dad, then what would happen to her marriage to Phil because of this baby? Mom liked him. She was not a meticulous woman. How could she take care of a baby? I saw the fear of the baby's fate for the next five months.

However, I kept my anxiety about the baby to myself for a moment in my silence on the way home. Along the way I was more interested in the palm trees that lined up neatly on the side of the sidewalk. People were walking around in singlets and shorts or jeans, unlike people in Chicago who had to wear parkas or heavy jackets if they didn't want to catch a cold.

A car cut Phil off. He slammed on the brakes, sending Mom and I lurching forward. My headphones fell off. Mom's head hit the dashboard. She rolled down the window and looked out into the street.

"YOU'RE A B—"

"Mom!"

She winced, closing the window again. We called out to her for an explanation.

"What? Someone had to tell her, right?"

I rolled my eyes. Whatever.

I bent down and picked up my headphones. A plastic bag had fallen out and its contents were scattered under the seat. I was stunned.

"Oh my God, Mom, are you still on meds?"

"What meds— oh, honey! No! I swear!"

"Then what are these?"

"They're Phil's," Mom replied.

The large amount of barbiturates was suspicious.

"Why is Phil taking so much medicine? Is he sick?" I asked.

"No. It's some kind of sleeping pill. He went to the drugstore earlier."

"Isn't that illegal, Mom?"

"Not over the limit. Phil doesn't take it very often."

"Buying it without a prescription? Well, I wish you'd told him about your overdose, Mom."

Mom laughed. "Isn't this Phil, like me? He knows the right dosage."

"Oh, wow, impressive," I said. I put the plastic bags down beside me.

The cafes with Spanish names that sold steaming meat pies made me hungry and wanted to stop by. But this is Mom. If I hadn't brought the extra money from my allowance from Chicago, I wouldn't have let her go downstairs for the pie and coffee that she said would be better spent on her electricity and air conditioning.

A small, pale red house on the outskirts of downtown Miami, Florida. It was no bigger than the living room of Dad's Chicago mansion, but its three stories made it better.

I ran to my usual guest room that I usually use when I'm on vacation here. The room is on the third floor next to the warehouse. However, it's better than having to sleep in the guest room on the first floor because it's still next to Mom's room. That would definitely make it difficult to call Dad or... Jason.