There was apparently no easy way to voice her thoughts, to turn her secret into fathomable words that Trae would understand. Above everything, Lindy was skeptical of her brother's reaction and couldn't begin to guess how he would feel. There were no guesses to be made.
"Trae," Lindy inhaled deeply, "I'm pregnant."
At first, Trae's eyebrows cinched together with confusion. He stared blankly at Lindy, but then he seemed to stammer over what sounded like a sob. Within a split second, Trae had taken Lindy into his arms and was holding her with tears in his eyes.
"Shit, Lindy," he said, his exclamation whooshing from his mouth in the middle of a cry. Hearing his emotional reaction sparked Lindy's own heartfelt tears and she hugged Trae back with all of her might.
"I would have told you sooner," she said guiltily, wiping at her face with careless abandon for the makeup she had lightly spread on for the occasion. "I came so close so many times. I didn't want you to be upset."
Trae raised his hand and with the pad of his thumb, brushed away one of Lindy's tears. He looked at her the same way that he had for the last twenty-five years. It was an expression of utmost brotherly love, the sort of love that could only be found between the bond of siblings. Trae had stared at Lindy like this always, from the moment he had met her when she was born into their family. He had even found the will to stare at her like that while standing by their parents' graves.
"Are you happy?" Trae asked gently.
Lindy nodded. "Really, really happy. This is what I want. This baby."
Trae glanced down at Lindy's belly. He cracked a smile as he did so, amazed by whatever invisible picture filled his head.
"What?" Lindy asked, laughing a little at her brother's blithe expression.
"I was just thinking back to when we were kids. And you used to play with like, only two Barbie dolls because you thought Barbies were lame and didn't want anyone to know you played with them. But you had a guy and a girl, and every time I'd ask you if they were a mom and dad, you'd get all grossed out and tell me that babies were disgusting."
Lindy laughed at this recollection, remembering the instance just as Trae had described it. She'd had one blonde Barbie and an equally blonde Ken, but she had refused to make them parents despite having a Barbie baby lying around. From what Lindy had known about babies back then, she had decided at the tender age of seven that she would never have one.
"I've had a change of heart," Lindy said with a smile.
"No offense, but I kind of thought you'd never have a kid after that. You never said anything else about it. And I never saw you going crazy over any of the babies we ran into."
"Hey!" Lindy cried defensively, swatting Trae's arm. "I like infants! I work with them all the time!"
"I know!" Trae laughed, shielding himself from Lindy's flying hand. "It's all one big joke now, because I just realized that you're going to be the best damn mom in the world."
Trae's compliment warmed Lindy from the inside and out and suddenly, the cool air had no effect on her skin. The joy she felt had enveloped into a safe, cozy bubble.
"Careful, your wife is back there. Mother of your child, and all that."
"Okay," Trae smirked. "You'll be second best mom in the world."
Lindy tucked an arm around her brother's torso and leaned her head on his shoulder. She should have been fretful of his response in the first place. No matter what, he had always been her biggest supporter. He was her big brother — he knew right and wrong like the back of his hand. And apparently she was doing something right.
"You know," Lindy said, looking at the workers as they continued shoveling dirt over Lee's grave. "Telling Dad was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I didn't think I'd get through it."
"Because you guys got so close in the end?"
Lindy felt the lump that had occupied her throat swell up again, making it difficult to swallow and reply to Trae's assumption.
"Yeah, that too. But it was more like it killed me to know that even after losing Mom in the wreck, there was going to be another baby in Dad's life that he would never get to meet."
_________
Kurt's phone call came in the middle of the night. Lindy almost didn't hear the ringing over the loud, raging thunderstorm that was taking place outside. And she almost didn't answer it — sleep had evaded her enough as it was.
But she remembered what she had always told herself. Phone calls in the dead of night usually meant trouble. It would have been imprudent to let the call go to voicemail, especially with the suspense of everything going on with Kurt.
So Lindy climbed out of her bed, disrupting a sleeping Freddie at her feet who meowed in protest. She staggered into the kitchen, squinty-eyed and fully prepared to verbally maim whoever was calling if they didn't have a worthy excuse for doing so.
"Lindy," Kurt gasped on the other line as soon as he heard the dialing noise cut.
"Kurt?" Lindy asked, scrubbing her fist against her eyes. "Is everything okay?"
"No, no, no, no. I forgot. It was your dad's funeral today. I forgot to call you."
"Kurt, it's fine, don't worry about it."
Lindy's eyes flickered to the clock on the wall and she sighed.
"Go to sleep" she instructed. "Right now."
"I can't. I want to so badly but I can't."
She was gearing up to deliver a long-winded speech on all the reasons why Kurt needed rest, but she stopped herself when she replayed his words back. There was a double meaning behind them. This wasn't just about his craving for sleep. It was more than that.
"Kurty," Lindy whispered. She grasped the phone a little tighter against her ear. "Please don't."
"I'm trying," Kurt deplored, agony laced in his declaration. "I'm trying because I love you. I want it to stop."
"I'm right here," Lindy promised him, but she could feel a slick sweat on her palms. Kurt sounded more hysterical than she had ever heard. The last thing that needed to happen that night was a repeat of Rome.
"I need you to come get me," Kurt blubbered, breathless with pain. "Come to the house and get me now."
"Kurt, you know I can't. Courtney's there . . ."
"Fuck her!" Kurt suddenly yelled. His desperation was lapping at him like flames. He was a time bomb, ticking down to a catastrophic explosion.
Lindy heard a female voice in the back, screaming at Kurt to get off the phone with "whatever dealer he had found now." No doubt it was Courtney who was speaking.
"Come," Kurt begged. "You have my address. I'll come right outside. Just come get me right fucking now."
There was another piercing shriek from behind Kurt, and then the line went dead.
Shaking violently, Lindy pulled the phone away from her face and stared at it like it was on fire. Whatever she had just witnessed was not good, no matter how hard she tried to reason with herself that it wasn't her business if Kurt and Courtney fought.
It didn't take her long though to change her mind before grabbing her keys and flying out the door.
eighty-eight.
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