Page 14 of New Year's Day

“I’m not mean.” He actually seems insulted.

Row says nothing. Willow giggles, covering her mouth with her fingers to stop it.

“You are so mean. Maybe that’ll be my wish this year. That my brother will be nicer to all of us,” I say.

“Good luck with that happening,” Willow murmurs, laughing when Augie sends her an annoyed look. “See? You can’t help yourself, Augie.”

“Whatever. And don’t call me that.” He stomps off, mad like usual.

Ugh, I can’t worry about him.

“We’re definitely making a wish at midnight,” I tell Willow and Row. “And I’m not wasting mine on him.”

“Good,” Willow says with a nod, her gaze going to the TV screen. “Oh no, we need to get ready!”

The countdown is on. The younger kids start counting down from fifty, which is irritating but the parents seem into it. They start counting too.

I only join in at twenty, clutching the glass in my hand, spinning the noisemaker with my other hand. The noise in the room grows louder and louder and when we hit ten, I close my eyes and come up with a wish.

It hits me right when we hit two, and I open my eyes, screaming “one” as loud as I can.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

We’re screaming and yelling and carrying on. The adults are kissing their significant others, and I take a big gulp from my glass to toast the New Year, thinking about my wish.

“What did you wish for?” Row asks minutes later, after we’ve gone quieter.

“It won’t come true if we tell,” Willow chastises. “Right, Iris?”

“Definitely.” I nod, though I’m dying to tell them what mine is.

I wished we’d have this party every year. Just us. Just the family and no one else.

I hope it comes true.

SEVEN

ARCH

“We’re never goingto make it.” I keep my gaze fixed on the road, but it’s tough when there’s so much snow falling from the sky that it makes it hard to see. The windshield wipers are whipping back and forth across the glass at a tremendous speed, but they’re not really helping. And all the cars on the freeway—not that there are many—are creeping along, afraid they might slide or get stuck.

“Maybe we should turn back,” my wife says, patting her giant belly.

I glance over at her, pride filling me as it always does when I see how heavy she is with my child. She’s going to give birth at any minute. It was probably a stupid idea to try and drive out to my cousin’s house for a New Year’s Eve party in the middle of a snowstorm.

There’s no probably about it. It’s an awful idea.

“We can stop at a hotel,” I suggest. “There are some at the next exit I think.”

Daisy nibbles on her lower lip, staring straight ahead. Her brows are drawn together in worry and I feel like an ass for insisting we try and get to Whit and Summer’s house tonight, thinking we could beat the storm. That didn’t work out. “I think that’s a good idea.”

She winces the moment the words leave her, clutching the bottom of her belly in a way that fills me with alarm.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She exhales, leaning back against her seat. “Just a cramp.”

“A cramp, my ass,” I mutter as I hit the blinker and pull off on the exit, thankful to see a towering building looming up ahead. I’m sure that’s a hotel and we’re going to be in it in approximately five minutes, if not sooner. “Are you going into labor?”