Tread

August 22

I wake with a jolt, muscles protesting the movement as I uncurl myself from the protective ball I formed. My phone beeps and vibrates. Sitting up in the bed, I notice Em is nowhere in sight. No wonder, I mentally groan, looking down at my phone. Almost noon. But the groan quickly turns into a sharp inhale as I check my notifications.

Yes.

It's him.

Leo: Why I am looking at a picture of your breasts? 11:23:AM

It's a small victory, but I pump my fist and wiggle my shoulders and hips anyway. He texted back. That's all that matters.

Rai: Because I figured I'd have a better shot at you responding then with hey 11:24AM

Leo: What do you want, Rai? 11:27AM

Rai: I miss you. 11:27AM

Leo: It's been a month. 11:29AM

Rai: I know. But I needed to deal with my shit. There's too much to say. Can I call? 11:30AM

Leo: OK. 11:37AM

Voices filter up from the downstairs—a man and a woman—but I ignore their conversation and focus completely on Leo as I press the call button. The farm house groans and creaks around me as I climb out of bed and pace across the thin, rough carpet and wait for him to answer.

"I don't want to push you away, Leo," I blurt the second he picks up. "You said I was scared, remember? I'm fucking terrified. This relationship is out of my depth and away from my control and the only time I've felt like that is with my father and his family. Not great memories. But it's different with you. It's a good scary and it's a risk that I gotta take because not talking with you, not hearing from you for over a month, slayed me. I fucking love you, Leo. That never stopped and it won't stop and I need you to love me too because I don't want do this without you."

Seconds tick by as I listen to the faint sounds of static and wind. I don't realize I'm holding my breath until Leo starts talking, "About. Fucking. Time." I close my eyes, biting my lip and nodding as he continues, "Do you know how long I waited for you to say that? It's over, Rai. Done. You're not leaving or pulling away or trying anymore of that shit. I don't care if we're two or two thousand meters away from each other—you're mine. Say it."

I laugh at his tone, relieved. "I'm yours, Mr. Bossy Pants."

"Two weeks," he bites. "Get your shit together, Rai. Friday I'm coming to get you and we're spending—What is it? Arbour Day?—weekend in bed with my head between your legs. Understood?"

"It's Labour Day and I love you." I'm at a loss for words, my fear and trepidation flowing out of me because despite the distance and the time away from each other, and the fact that I can only hear his voice and not feel his hands, it's enough. We'll weather it all if we can stick together. "I love you so much."

His smile is clear through the phone. "I love you too, Rai."

***

I talk to Leo for a small eternity, catching him up on my life, catching up on his. When my phone gets too hot to hold, I end the call with a promise of more texting and video calls. He's never getting rid of me.

The house is eerily quiet as I make my way down the stairs, the couple I heard earlier nowhere in sight. "Em?" I call out, peeking in the dining room and living room.

"Out here."

I find Em curled on a rocking chair, chin on her knees, staring into the distance. She looks so fragile, a green tint to her cheeks. "Hey. Rough morning?"

When she looks at me, it's almost like she doesn't see me. Like she doesn't understand what's happening. Then she blinks and her poker face slips into place. "Like you wouldn't believe. Were you talking to someone?"

I nod and squat down in front of her. "Leo. I pulled my head out of my ass and patched things up."

Her smile doesn't reach her eyes, and her punch on my arm is kitten soft. "'Bout time."

"What's going on, Em? Morning sickness? Did you talk to Samson? Did he say something?"

A shaky hand rakes through her hair, tugging at the knots at the end. "No morning sickness, but I did talk to Samson. We've—I've decided to have the baby."

"What?" And I don't mean for it to sound so loud or so stunned, but it does.

She curls into herself, wrapping her arms around her legs more tightly even as she forces a smile. "Yeah. I've been thinking about it and I mean it's my own fault for having sex. It's just one of those things that happens and it'll make me stronger, you know."

"Em, this isn't a fucking broken leg or a scar. It's a kid. One you'll have to be with and take care of for at least 18 years. Is Samson telling you to have it?" I growl. "Fuck that dude! You don't owe nobody nothin'. He's not the one that's going to have to push a watermelon through an expanding keyhole."

"Thanks for that image."

"I'm serious, Em." Rocking back on my heels, I push to my feet and lean against one of the porch pillars. "At the end of the day, it's great that you told him, but he really doesn't get a say. This is your body and your choice. Don't let anybody tell you differently."

"I know," she screams at me, shooting up from the chair. She's practically vibrating as she looms over me, hair catching the light so she looks like a really pissed off angel. "Don't you think I fucking know that, Rai! But not everything in life is simple and easy. My body stopped being just mine the minute I gave it to someone else. And it's great that you worked out your bullshit with Leo, but this isn't a happy ending you can force—"

"This has nothing to do with Leo," I interrupt, forcing myself to my feet as I wag an accusing finger at her. "It has to do with you being in school and not having a job and not being put together—"

"You want to talk about being put together? You're a fucking dumpster fire who doesn't even realize she's burning. You're so self-absorbed. That's why you didn't figure out Kate was going through the shit—"

"And you did? No, Em, you were there with me when we found her. Just as oblivious. Just as self-absorbed."

"Yeah? Well if I'm so fucking self absorbed than why am I having a kid for a guy who's—" she stops, slapping a hand over her mouth as if she can physically stop the words from coming out. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, but I watch her swallow, close her lids, and reign herself back in. When she's calm, mask back in face, fists clenched, she lets out a slow breath and speaks, "This is my choice, Rai. I am having this baby. Are you with me or what?"

These are the moments that make or break friendships. I take a deep breath and heavily consider how Em having this kid will affect her life, my life, and our friendship. They'll be late nights and dirty diapers and breakdowns and dreams put on the back burners; but they'll also be birthdays and happy accidents and watching a little nothing grow into adulthood. No way in hell I'm missing that and no way in hell she's doing this alone. Better get used to being called Auntie Rai.

"I'm with you." The words are soft; my look is not. I meet her eyes, making a promise a twenty-something year-old should never make. But we're more than best friends. She is my blood just as sure as I am hers. I take a step forward and engulf her in a tight hug. Her arms are brittle, a brief pat on the back that puts yet more distance between us. I hate it, and hug her more fiercely until she's clutching me back, sobbing into my shoulder and calling me a heifer and a friend she doesn't deserve and the help she desperately needs. "I'm with you, Em. Always."