Page 103 of Backup Plan

I text Izzy.

Me: I’m on my way. Flight gets in at 12:47. Which hospital are you at?

Izzy: Northwestern.

Me: Are you okay?

Izzy: Scared.

Me: Me too.

I pull up my text chain with Penny, and I think about texting her.

I even draft one out.

Izzy’s in labor.

I delete it.

I miss you.

I delete that one, too.

My earbuds are tucked away in my duffel up in the overhead bin, and I don’t want to bother the elderly woman in the seat beside me. I tuck my phone into the seatback pocket, fold my arms over my chest since there’s no way the dude to my left is giving up the armrest, and close my eyes.

The lull of the airplane mixed with the white noise must put me to sleep, and it’s a damn good thing since I haven’t slept in two weeks and I hear I won’t be sleeping much with a newborn.

When the plane touches down, I’m jolted awake. I check my phone, and I don’t have anything from Izzy. I text her first.

Me: Landed.

I text Ivy next.

Me: Hey, Izzy is in labor. I just landed in Chicago. Are you in town?

Ivy: I’m actually in Vegas visiting Ainsley, and I’m heading to San Diego from here. Let me know how everything goes!

I suddenly feel very alone. I sort of thought Ivy was going to help me out, but maybe she just meant in San Diego, once we’re both there. Can I even travel to San Diego with a newborn?

Fucking fuck. I don’t know how any of this works, and I’m fucking terrified.

I want to call Penny. She’s the one person who would know the answers.

And she’s the one person I let go.

I text Madden next.

Me: Hey, Izzy is in labor. I just landed in Chicago. Are you still here in town?

Madden: Yes, wouldn’t miss the trial.

Me: Right. Thank you for that, by the way. Do you think you can help me?

Madden: I know as much about babies as you do.

Me: But you’re the oldest. Surely you had to, like, change one of our diapers or something.

Madden: Yeah, no. The nannies always did that. I can help you find a nanny if you want?