“I don’t know if Jameson’s going to let her out tomorrow,” Landon says, mirroring my very thoughts.

I get situated on the edge of the couch with Landon beside me. Zeus sits between him and Max.

“The Breakfast Club!” I cry when the TV focuses.

“The what?” Landon asks.

“The Breakfast Club. It’s Molly Ringwald.”

Landon looks at me with raised eyebrows and a small smile as he lowers the remote. “Who in the hell is Molly Ringwald?”

“The Brat Pack,” Max answers, shocking the hell out of me.

We make it through most of The Breakfast Club before checking on Kendall to find her only slightly responsive. I sit behind her, my legs straddling her waist, as we get her to sit up and drink. Jameson sits beside her. He hasn’t fallen asleep either.

Once we manage to get Kendall to drink the contents of a single glass of water, we finish the movie. Following it, we watch something much darker that has me burrowing further into the couch.

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

I panic seeing the sun streaking through the windows. I sit up further hearing a familiar squealing.

“Abby!” I cry, standing up as she rushes toward me with Max protesting for her to slow down on the slick floors. She wraps around me, squeezing me so tightly I can’t catch a breath, undeterred by his warnings.

“Oh my God, I fell asleep!” My body goes rigid as I begin pulling away from Abby.

“It’s okay, she seems to be feeling way better than I expected,” Max says.

“She’s awake?”

Max nods and my eyes go to the clock to see that it’s already two. “It’s two? In the afternoon?”

Abby pulls back and uses one hand to wipe at some stray tears as she laughs at my shock, still keeping the other firmly latched on my shirt. “I’m starting to experience some strong waves of maternal instincts, so it’s probably best you guys don’t tell me what’s going on. Unless there’s some sort of racy information, then I want to hear it.”

My eyebrows raise with a laugh. “Oh, Abs, I’ve missed you,” I say, hugging her again before pulling back and placing a hand on her tiny belly that’s proudly on display.

Abby sniffles and wipes a few more tears from her cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you!”

I smiled broadly, feeling the comforting sense of home filling me again before a thump hits my palm. “She’s kicking me!” I cheer.

“She’s excited to meet her Auntie Harper!” I smile and continue to feel the soft kicks.

“Abby are you hungry?” Max asks.

“I’m always hungry,” she admits.

“Want some pizza or something?”

“Do you feel that?” Abby cries. I look up at her and nod. “Say something, Max.”

He raises his single eyebrow, exposing my favorite Max expression for the first time, sending my heart on a path of destruction.

“Say something,” she urges impatiently. Abby grabs his hand and plants it beside mine.

“I grew up with brothers,” Max begins, standing beside us with obvious discomfort. Abby and I both laugh as the baby begins wiggling even faster.

The moment is too right, too familiar, and I slide my hand from her stomach, and without looking at either of them, I move toward the kitchen. It’s only seconds before I hear Max instruct Abby to be careful and see him hold out a hand as she crosses into the kitchen.

“So how are you feeling?” I ask, pulling a chair out for her. “You look amazing!”

“Good, the exhaustion is starting to return though.”

“What sounds good?” I ask, grabbing a pile of take out menus from the kitchen cupboard, realizing as I do, that too many things are beginning to feel comfortable.

“Actually, what really sounds good are your chocolate chip pancakes,” she admits with a guilty expression.

“I actually got stuff to make them when Kendall and I went shopping Tuesday, so you’re in luck.”

Max produces a large mixing bowl and then turns to the fridge, returning with eggs and milk, adding to the familiarity.

“Okay, so I have a favor to ask of you guys,” Abby says, her voice, a note higher than normal has my eyes turning to look at her in curiosity.

“I need someone, or maybe even both of you would be good. Maybe if he hears it twice it will make him feel better.”

“Hear what?” I ask.

“Well, okay, so Jesse needs some reassurance that he’s not going to hit the baby.”

“He’s worried about being an abusive father?” I ask, trying to keep the concern shooting through me out of my voice.

“What? No! No! Of course not! No,” she cries, moving her chair to face us. “Okay, I did kind of word that wrong, huh?”

We both turn to look at Max who affirms with a nod while cutting open a bag of chocolate chips. My eyes rotate back to Abby as I measure out the baking powder.

Her head drops slightly and then snaps back to me. “Okay, he won’t have sex with me!” she cries. I choke on the chocolate chip I just dropped in my mouth and cough as she continues. “Not since we went to the ultrasound! He’s worried he’s going to hit her.”

I quickly begin shaking my head before she can ask again.

“Why are you saying no?” Abby whines, seeming genuinely surprised by my refusal.

“Because, no,” I exclaim. “That sounds like a great topic to discuss with your OB.”

“Harper, you know it would be fine.”

“There are books, and articles, and real qualified doctors to discuss this with.”

“Max, will you talk to him? Please?”

“Uh, no,” Max responds quickly, closing his eyes and shaking his head, like he’s hoping to dispel a mental image.

“Oh, are you cooking, Ace?” Jameson asks, walking into the kitchen wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His sandy blond hair is disheveled and his eyes are bright. “Pancakes!” he cries gleefully.

“I thought you had to work today?” I ask, watching him look over the contents on the counter.

“No, I’m on vacation today and Monday, and then next Friday and Monday too.”

“How’s Kendall?”

“She’s just getting dressed. She’s tired, but seems fine,” Jameson answers, coming over and snatching some chocolate chips. “I’m looking forward to pancakes.”

“They’re my pancakes. You go get your, I-just-had-sex self back in your room,” Abby huffs.

I stifle a laugh that grows when I see the confusion on Jameson’s face mixed with just enough guilt and pride to reveal that she’s right.

“Yeah, I don’t want to hear about it,” she growls.

Jameson doesn’t act remotely phased as he sits at the table and pulls out his phone, scrolling over the screen.

“Do you think one of your sisters would talk to him?”

“No, Google it if you won’t talk to your doctor.”

“Harper, I need you!” she whines. “I’m not letting you leave next week. Just stay. Please? Baby Adalynn is going to need you. I’m going to need you. Jesse will likely depend on you.”

“Kendall will help you mastermind a plan,” Jameson offers, lifting his head to look at Abby. He stands up and heads to the fridge, retrieving a carton of orange juice, then turns and silently offers Abby a glass. She responds with a quick smile, which quickly fades into another glower.

I can’t hear this conversation, let alone be a part of it. Not now, because I’m feeling the warm comfort of home enveloping me, and I know that it’s partly just a façade. I know that if I stay, it will be a matter of time, maybe a week, or a month, but at some point, I will freak out and wonder if I’ve made the right decision again. Not to mention how things would be with Max.

“She’s not the one whose help I need.” Abby’s words are so quiet I can barely make them out as I drop cylinders of batter into the pan.