Dropping the Ball

12. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Micah

Madison and I arrive at the Threadwork office at the same time. Madison smiles and says, “Follow me.”

I do, and she pokes her head through the door of an office that’s been empty in the handful of times I’ve come here before.

“Knock, knock,” she says. “I found a stray in the parking lot and brought him with me.”

She walks in, and I follow, giving Kaitlyn a quick nod because I’m distracted watching Madison try to settle herself into her chair. It’s kind of like watching a flamingo with a basketball strapped to its stomach try to situate itself on a tricycle while wearing a long skirt. I hover beside her as she grasps the chair arms and slowly lowers herself, not sure how I can help, but everything in my training about force, mass, and momentum says this can’t possibly work. But a few seconds later, she’s in the chair, and I take the other seat and hide a sigh of relief.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Madison says.

She’s teasing Kaitlyn, who hasn’t done anything in here yet. It’s a standard office suite. The reception area has framed photos of the Marigold Institute building and students at work, alternating with woven mats and bowls in orange, turquoise, and red. Madison’s touch for sure. Kaitlyn’s office is a blank slate, a few frames leaning against one wall, faced in so I’m not sure what’s on them.

“I kept waiting for you to start nesting over here,” she tells Madison. “I conned you into doing my house. I thought for sure I could sucker you into doing my office.”

Madison sniffs, and Kaitlyn smiles at me. “I mean to hang things up, but there are always at least five things on my list ahead of decorating.”

I’m so surprised by her smile and friendly conversation, that I can only look back in silence.

“They’re right there ,” Madison protests, waving toward the stacked frames.

Kaitlyn shrugs and switches her attention to me, still smiling. It’s not big, but it looks sincere. “Thanks for coming, Micah. This meeting will go better if we pretend she’s not here.”

I laugh. “Oh, cool. Usually you pretend I’m not here.” I don’t know what’s changed, but I can’t resist teasing her.

Madison beams at me, but instead of getting flustered, Kaitlyn nods. “Right, sorry about that. I checked, and it turns out the statute of limitations on stupid grudges expired last year, so congratulations on making valedictorian, and thanks for coming in today.”

I lean back, relaxing around her for the first time since our run-in at Remix. “Glad we’re straight. I was trying to figure out the etiquette of letting a client know about that expiration.”

Recognition dawns on Madison’s face. “I remember now. At Katie’s graduation. You gave a good speech.”

I shrug, startled anyone would remember it. “Thanks.”

Kaitlyn watches me with the trace of a smile. “We leave here as experts in nothing, but that won’t matter if we stay students of everything.”

My eyebrows go up as she quotes it. “You remember it too?”

She shrugs, and I suspect she does it to tease me. “Like Madison said, it was a good speech.”

Her smile fades and I wonder what she’s thinking. Is it about that speech? Or how I ended up giving it? Or is she thinking about the present?

“So this pause is more pregnant than I am,” Madison says.

“Pointing it out definitely helps,” Kaitlyn says.

Madison looks not at all sorry.

Kaitlyn shifts her attention back to me. “Sorry, Micah. I got lost remembering that speech. I appreciate it more now. You had some things figured out already that I only started understanding in law school. Mainly, the more I learn, the less I know.”

“But it’s a good thing?” I ask.

“Yes. It makes the world bigger.”

“Awww,” Madison says, “that’s so cu—”

“Madison decided to crash this meeting,” Kaitlyn interrupts, “because—”

“Because Oliver is at his office, daytime TV sucks, and I’m way more bored than I thought I would be on maternity leave.” She tries to lean forward, and when that’s impossible, she scoots up a couple of inches to make room so she can rub her back. “I can’t even take Advil, and I’d like to use my prodigious brain to distract me. That’s why.”

“Anyway,” Kaitlyn says to me, “I wanted to check in on what the construction phase looks like and figure out how often I should plan to be on-site.”

I pull out my iPad case tucked beside me. “I’ll be able to start two days earlier than I expected, so I’m glad we’re meeting today. I have an idea I want to run past you. Originally we’d talked about hiding the supervisor loft at the end of the warehouse behind the false ceiling, but what would you think . . .” And I’m off and running, tapping on the screen and showing them a few rough sketches turning the loft into a deejay booth.

When I’m done, I turn to Madison. She’s been particular about every nut and bolt of this build. “What do you think?”

Madison surprises me by deferring to Kaitlyn with a nod.

Kaitlyn looks surprised too but draws the iPad closer, studying the sketch. “I agree with you. I like the idea of moving the deejay here. Being intentional with the placement makes it seem less like we threw a bunch of stuff in a giant square.”

Madison straightens and her eyebrows fly up.

“You disagree?” Kaitlyn asks, surprised.

“No, it’s a good idea. Excuse me a minute, please.”

She hoists herself out of her chair and disappears into the hallway.

Kaitlyn blinks at the empty doorway and turns back to me. “Itty-bitty bladder committee.”

“Sounds uncomfortable.”

“Let’s move the deejay. But since we didn’t go up to the loft before, I’d like to come check it out.”

“Monday afternoon work?”

We choose a time before moving on to an overview of the construction next week.

“We need to build the frame,” I explain, “and since we’re working with reclaimed rebar, it’s going to take welding. That will take most of the week because the scale of this thing . . .” I trail off as the tickle of an idea has me staring into the distance, trying to visualize if it could work.

“Are you okay?” Kaitlyn asks. “Because if the architect is overwhelmed by the scope of this project, that makes me nervous.”

I focus on her. “Yeah, fine. Just wondering if we should take this thing even bigger. I was trying to run the time and costs in my head, but I’ll do that later and send it over to you tomorrow if the numbers add up.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not a risk taker. I prefer taking shots I know I’ll make, but it’s obvious why you and Madison work so well together. You both think big.”

“Katie, Oliver wants to talk to you.” Madison stands in the doorway, holding out her phone.

“Your face is weird,” Kaitlyn says. “Everything okay?”

Madison’s only answer is to wave the phone.

Kaitlyn hops up to take it. “Oliver?”

Her eyes widen as she studies her sister. “You’re in labor?” Her voice ends two octaves higher than usual.

I jump up at the word “labor,” then freeze. My instinct is to help, but I’ve never been in this situation before.

Madison grimaces. “No contractions, but I think my water broke? Is breaking? I swear I took notes in pregnant lady class, but I’m forgetting all of them. I’ve got a slow leak happening.”

I scan her, not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. A baby poking its head out from beneath her hem?

“I can drive her,” Kaitlyn is telling her brother-in-law, “but shouldn’t we call an ambulance?” She listens for a few seconds. “Okay, right, yes, we’ll meet you at the hospital.”

She hangs up without remembering to say goodbye and thrusts the phone at Madison, who bobbles it, but Kaitlyn is in action mode and already pulling her purse from a desk drawer.

“Sorry to cut this short,” she says as she digs inside it.

“Go,” I say. “Do what you need to do.”

She curses, smacking her purse onto the desk. “Stupid keys.”

“We’re not taking your car,” Madison objects.

Kaitlyn looks over at her. “You can’t drive yourself through rush hour to have a baby.”

Madison rests her hand on her stomach—which, wait, did it double in size?—and glares. “I am not wrestling myself into your stupid Audi.”

“It is low,” Kaitlyn concedes.

“And my car has the baby seat,” Madison adds.

“Your car,” Kaitlyn says, already moving toward the door with shooing motions. “Let’s go.”

“Calm down, we have time,” Madison protests.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. You’re having a baby!”

Madison gives her a second to let that sink in, and I press my lips tight to hide a smile. I understand why Kaitlyn isn’t thinking straight.

“Fine, I’ll keep the freaking out on the inside,” Kaitlyn says. “Let’s go.”

We head down the hall, and Madison is moving just fast enough to waddle, the first I’ve seen her do that. I keep an eye on her, still not sure what I’m watching for. I think the baby waving from under her hem.

When we get to reception, Kaitlyn orders the receptionist, “Do not tell my dad,” as we head out the door.

In the parking lot, Madison hands Kaitlyn her keys and points to where she parked her SUV.

I stay right behind them. “I’ll follow you.”

“Good idea,” Kaitlyn calls over her shoulder. Then she and Madison both turn to look at me. “Why?”

I stop too, stumped. “I don’t know. Maybe for backup?”

“Works for me,” Madison says, waddling ahead. When she reaches her car, she opens the passenger door but then hesitates.

“What’s wrong?” Kaitlyn asks, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Leather seats,” she says. “And I’m leaking.”

“Uh . . .” Kaitlyn glances around wildly, like she’ll see a solution hanging from the low hedge in front of us or hiding in the SUV. “It’s okay. Baby matters more.”

“No, hold on.” I jog over to my truck a few spots down. I yank open the door to the extra cab and duck behind the driver’s seat. A few seconds later, I straighten and call, “Head’s up.”

Kaitlyn catches the sweatshirt I toss and holds it up. It’s a new UT one, crisp orange logo on an ivory background. “I’m not sure about pregnant, uh, water or whatever we’re dealing with here, but this is probably too nice for Madison to sit on.”

I grin. “I would be honored. Keep it. I’m going to back out so I can follow you.”

Kaitlyn nods, trying not to look worried, but faint lines around her eyes and the tightness around her mouth give her away. Still, she turns toward Madison and manages to sound excited as she announces, “All right, Mama. It’s show time.”