Wren was pregnant herself, due any day now.
Leah checked her watch again. “Has this been going on since Emily was born? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I… don’t know. I thought I could handle it. And… I… didn’t want to drag you into our problems.”
“That’s what we’re for!” She checked her watch. “Where is she?”
Just then a car pulled into the driveway. Leah yanked open the front door.
“Sorry, I got here as quick as I could,” Kara said. She’d been asleep in bed when Leah had called. It was past midnight, after all. “Where is she?”
“Bedroom,” Leah said.
“The girls?”
“They’re fine. Asleep.”
Kara nodded and took over. She disappeared into the back of the house, and the sound of the television stopped. I couldn’t hear what Kara said, but she spoke in quiet, soothing tones. Christy seemed confused. They talked for a little while longer before Kara returned to the living room. She set a bottle of whiskey on the counter without comment.
“I gave her something to help her sleep,” she said instead. “She’s definitely depressed.”
Leah nodded. “That’s what Gina said.”
“Yeah, we spoke before I left,” Kara said. “She told me what symptoms to look for.” She turned to me. “I don’t think she’s a danger to herself or the children, but I think we should call her OB/GYN first thing in the morning. Who is she?”
“He,” I said, and told her his name.
“Never mind,” Kara said. “You’re changing doctors. I won’t speak ill of a colleague, but… I’ll make an exception this time. Dr. Akin should’ve retired twenty years ago. He’s a chauvinist relic. I’m not sure he understands that ‘hysteria’ isn’t a medical diagnosis.”
“He’s on our insurance,” I said vaguely.
“It’s okay. You had no way to know,” Kara said with the same soothing voice she’d used on Christy.
“What do we do?”
“Sit tight,” she said immediately. “I can admit her to the hospital if you want, but I’m worried that someone might call DFCS. We don’t want that.”
“No!” Leah and I said together.
“I don’t think she’s a danger to herself or the children,” Kara continued, “but she needs help.”
“What kind of help?” I asked.
“Medication and counseling. I’ll call a friend who can see her first thing in the morning. She’ll do a real psych eval and tell us how to proceed.” She glanced at Leah. “Are you okay to spend the night?”
“Of course. I keep a bag packed, just in case I have to leave for a story.”
“I didn’t bring one,” Kara said, “but we can share. It’ll be like old times.”
Leah nodded immediately.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said.
“Nonsense.” Kara smiled, sad and sympathetic. “Looks like you’re spending the night with a couple of Coulter women. Not exactly the way you wanted, is it?”
* * *
Wren went into labor on the morning of my birthday. I was twenty-nine, and we didn’t have a party.
Melissa Lark was born that evening. Christy made an effort to come to the hospital and meet her, but Wren could tell that things weren’t right.
“Thank you for coming, my love,” she said. “Meet Missy.”
“She looks like you,” Christy said. Then she frowned in confusion. “I didn’t bring my sketchbook.”
“That’s okay,” Wren said. “You’ll have plenty of time.”
Christy nodded glumly. “I should probably go. You don’t need me here.”
“No, stay.”
“Love you,” Christy said. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”
“Okay. I won’t be long,” I said.
She left, and a heavy silence filled the room. Wren glared daggers.
“Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve helped!”
“Don’t start,” Trip told her. “I’d’ve done the same thing in his shoes.”
“Oh, really! You’d let me die? That’s nice to know!”
“Babe,” he said patiently, “I wouldn’t let you die. But you don’t understand what it’s like for us, me and Paul.”
“Oh, really?” she said, sarcastic this time. “Then please, enlighten me.”
“We’re men. We’re supposed to protect our families. What’s Paul supposed to do when he can’t protect his wife from herself? How d’you think that makes him feel?”
I blinked in surprise and didn’t know what to say. I never would’ve expected him to understand, not in a million years.
“You’re telling me this is a macho thing?” Wren snapped.
“It’s a guy thing.”
She huffed in fury. “Sometimes you make me want to scream! My girlfriend’s dying, and all you can say is, ‘it’s a guy thing’?”
He merely shrugged. She was irrational because of her hormones, although it wasn’t worth the price of his life to say so. She was also scared for Christy, which he seemed to understand.
“She isn’t dying,” I said into the silence.
“Do they know what’s wrong with her?” Wren snarled.
“Severe postpartum depression.”
“Severe—? What the—? For real? Postpartum? But… Emily was born four months ago!”
Three and a half, but I didn’t correct her. I shrugged instead. “The doctor said it’s unpredictable.”
“Unpre—? What the literal fuck! He’s a fucking doctor!”
Trip’s eyebrows rose.
“What the fuck is he doing about it?” Wren demanded.
“He? He who? Oh, Dr. Akin? We switched doctors.”
“Thank God for that!” She glared at Trip. “I told you he was a loser. Fucking dinosaur.”
“Anyway,” I continued, “we switched to a new OB/GYN. And Kara recommended a psychiatrist. She’s also a she. So we have a bunch of female doctors now.”
“About fucking time,” Wren muttered.
“The psychiatrist prescribed an antidepressant and an appetite stimulant. She’s starting to eat—”
“She looks like one of those refugees on CNN!”
“Babe, let him finish,” Trip said.
“Why? He’s not doing his fucking job! He—”
“He loves her too. As much as we do. More.”
“You don’t!” Wren sneered. “You never did. You only like her ’cause she ‘sucks a mean dick’!”
He sighed and kept his temper in check.
“Are you ready to listen?” I said to Wren.
She gestured impatiently.
“She’s starting to eat again,” I said. “And she’s sleeping through the night. The doctor gave her pills for that, too. The antidepressants will take some time, but I’ve seen some little improvements already. And we’ve been to a therapist. She doesn’t like it, but I told her she doesn’t have a choice.”
Wren squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. After a moment she wiped her cheeks. Her temper had finally begun to abate. Now she was just worried about her friend.
“We’re going to see her twice a week,” I continued, “until she’s better. I don’t care how long it takes.”
Wren swallowed hard and then forced a smile. “Thank you.”
“Why don’t you take a break from work,” Trip said.
I nodded. I’d been going to ask.
“I’ll cover for you.” He laughed, a touch bitterly. “I’m an architect too, even if I don’t ever use it.”
“You’re a good one,” I said.
“Not as good as you, but I can do the job.”
“Whitney will help,” I said. “She knows all the projects we’re working on.”
“Yeah. She’s good. I thought you hired her ’cause of her looks—”
I shook my head.
“—but she has a brain too. I wish she was friendlier, but…”
“Dude,” I said, “she’s a lesbian.”
“For real? Man, that’s a shame.”
I felt an irrational stab of annoyance, but it wasn’t the time to lecture him. He was trying to lighten the mood, after all.
“She’s still in the closet,” I said, “so be cool about it. I don’t think she knows I know.”