what now? | outerbanks

• eighty-nine •

Sarah

Kie pops her head out of the shop after some time passes. The cool air conditioning wafts from inside, sending a shiver down my spine. Through the windows, I can see that the others are looking too, and it makes me wonder if they've been waiting for us this whole time.
"You guys okay?" she asks quietly.
John B. helps me stand, steadying me with a hand on my back. "We're okay," he says, a tired edge in his voice. "The usual."
Kie raises her brow. "Rafe?" she guesses.
I don't even have to answer. She can tell by my face. There's a pause where she just looks at me, and I know she can tell this wasn't an easy phone call.
"You guys should go home. Get some rest."
I shake my head instinctively, as if saying yes would be selfish. "We can't go back while you guys stay here and actually work on things. That's not fair to you."
She rests a hand on my arm. "It's okay," she says confidently. "No one will be mad that you're getting the rest you need. We'll fill you in if we find anything new."
"Deal," John B. agrees, pulling Kie into a quick hug. "Please make sure JJ's really okay."
She hugs me now, warm and familiar. "I will."

    By the time we get home, the oven clock blinks a bright 3:54 into the darkness of the kitchen. I pause in the archway between rooms, my entire body sagging with exhaustion. I rest against the framing, massaging a palm into my hip.
    "Maybe we should just stay up," I sigh. "Get some stuff done around the house."
    John B. laughs, coming closer and wrapping his arms around me. "Yeah, right. You look like you might collapse right here."
    "I feel like it too," I groan.
    "And anyway, you have that appointment in the morning. Dr. Patel's at ten."
I let out a dramatic, exaggerated sob as my body slugs off the doorframe. "Ugh," I moan. "I knew there was something."
John B. chuckles under his breath as he flips off the kitchen lights, leaving only the hallway's sconces to light our path. "It's been on the calendar for weeks."
"I know," I grumble, dragging my feet toward the stairs. "I just forgot. Pregnancy brain."
"Not real," he mutters under his breath. "Let's get you to bed."
Before we make it fully there, I have to make a pit stop to check in on Wheezie again. I crack her door open just enough to peek in. She's perfectly asleep, bangs fluttering slightly underneath the ceiling fan. My heart aches knowing I'll have to tell her about Rose in the morning.
When I close the door again, I make sure I don't let the latch click and wake her up.
"Asleep," I whisper to John B. when I meet him in our room. He's already stripped to his boxers, one foot on his way into bed.
Of course, it's not so quick for me. I have to pee first, because I always have to pee. I don't turn the bathroom light on because I know it'll be too bright, so I just leave the door cracked and let the room stay the moonlit blue it always is at night.
I wash my hands slowly, pressing cold water to my face afterward. I stare at myself in the mirror for a minute. My nose is a little bigger than it was before, and my cheeks have rounded out. I never quite lost my baby fat anyway, but my face looks even fuller now than it did before. Even my hair looks different. It's longer and wavier, which I'll take as a plus. Every day I have to remind myself that my body is changing for a reason—I am here so she can grow.
When I pad back into the room, John B. is already under the covers, facing my side of the bed like he always does. He has one arm extended out, ready for me to take when I finally climb in.
I toss my hair into a bun, plug my phone in on the nightstand, and settle onto the mattress with a soft exhale that feels like deflating. John B.'s hand lands gently on the side of my stomach.
"She still kicking?"
"She was," I say, shifting so he can feel better. "But I think she's tired too."
"Gets it from you," he murmurs sleepily.
"She gets everything from me," I joke, tugging the comforter off.
He's quiet for a second, then says, "I hope so."
"I love you," I whisper.
"Forever," he whispers back.
Then he's still, and so is the baby. Sleep doesn't take long to come.