Page 55 of Run To You
Meena won’t go without moneywise. That’s what Pia’s parents will contribute to their granddaughter’s life, and sure, that means Meena will have an extremelyprivileged life. However, I’ve seen the darker side of such a relationship. Pia grew up feeling abandoned and unimportant. Yes, she could have a brand new Porsche if she wanted, but god forbid she request any emotional support.
Their absence was the reason Pia and I grew as close as sisters. My mum and dad were more than happy to include Pia in all our family shit, and I lost count of the times Pia spent holidays with us instead of her other family.
I wonder how she’ll deal with her parents from now on. There’s no way she’s going to let Meena experience life the way she did. There won’t be any more nannies.
Sloane and I take the long way home from the hospital. She drives with the window down, one hand draped out to feel the wind. I lay my head back on the headrest and let the last thirty-six hours soak in.
She pulls into Benny’s Diner, and I can’t guess why until she rolls to a stop and kills the engine.
“Why are we here?” I ask.
“Remember when we used to come here? It was like our place to go when something big happened.”
To be fair, we found any old excuse to come to Benny’s back then.
She gets out before I can answer, and I follow her inside. Sloane gets a chocolate shake for me and a vanilla one for herself.
“This is for you,” she says, shoving the straw into my mouth.
It tastes like senior year and the first time I realised I was in love with Sloane. I grin into the straw.
We sit cross-legged on the curb and Sloane lets the sunlight burn a line into her cheekbone. “You know, I used to think adulthood would be like those old posters in the guidance counsellor offices. Teamwork, vision, success.” She takes a drag on the shake and makes a sour face. “Instead it’s mostly group chats and constant laundry.”
I laugh, feeling the truth of it spark in my chest.
“I wish real adulthood prepared you better for birthing a human,” she adds when I don’t reply.
“Don’t we all,” I say, stretching my legs out onto the warm asphalt. There’s a blissful few minutes where neither of us says anything, just the sound of summer bugs and the burr of an eighteen-wheeler idling somewhere close by.
Later, we convene an emergency household meeting in my parents’ living room to make sure we’re all ready forPia and Meena to move in later tonight. My dad did a great job getting a nursery set up in the spare room. I told him to put Pia and Todd in my old room because there’s no need for all three of them to be cramped up.
Bella is on a cleaning rampage, flinging dust rags and pine-scented spray in every direction, even though the house is spotless. Not to mention it’s not her house! Why can’t she be like this at home?
I tried to tell her to stop, but she gave me one of her glares and I backed off quickly. She continued until the kitchen sparkled and the living room looked like a bloody ad for domestic bliss.
By evening, the house hums with the nervous energy of a waiting room. At seven, my phone buzzes.
Todd
We are on our way. God help us all.
Bella and Becca set up banners and balloons. Sloane draws a little cartoon version of Meena on a leftover canvas she found shoved behind the couch. When Pia steps across the threshold, she looks a little stunned, like she expected to walk into the same old house and not a crowd of cheerleaders.
We all yellsurpriseand then immediately whispersurprisewhen Meena does that thing babies do where they fist up and scream in protest.
Pia startles but then smiles. She’s slower than usual, moving with the weight and purpose of someone who’s been physically rearranged.
We settle her onto the couch, and Todd, who is less pale but still shell-shocked, deposits the diaper bag and a box of baby gear. “She slept the whole drive,” he announces, already displaying his parental pride.
Jenna brings over a casserole she’s magicked up and a fork. Pia eats like she’s been on a five-day hike. The rest of us sit on the floor and take turns holding Meena.
After dinner, Sloane puts on a playlist—low, happy songs—and Bella tries to braid ribbons into Meena’s marabou hair. Which, for a baby fresh out the womb, she has a lot of.
Mum hovers around, making sure Pia has everything she needs. Dad sweeps Todd away for what I think is going to be a bro hug or five. Probably some fatherly advice, too.
Finally, when the house has grown quiet, and Todd is back settled next to Pia and Meena, I leave them and head outside for some fresh night air. The sky is violet and humming with crickets.
“I’m glad she came here,” I say to Sloane, who followed me out without needing an invitation. Bella and Becca left about half an hour ago, so now I get some alone time with her.
