forty-eight

Charlie volunteered to drive home. We forced Frank into the back seat in case he wanted to stretch out. “But don’t lie down,” I instructed. “You can’t lie down with a concussion.”

“I’m aware of basic first aid,” Frank said. “What’s bugging me is that we still can’t figure out the purpose of the hard drives. From what I can gather, hard drives can’t be repurposed. Am I right, Charlie?”

“I’m with you,” Charlie said. “Now that users can save to the Cloud or an inexpensive external drive, hard drives are becoming obsolete. There’s so many storage options now, I’d be very surprised if used hard drives had a secondary market.”

“What about donations in foreign countries?” I asked, thinking about the Robin Hood reference. “Maybe Bob and Gayle were donating the hard drives to third-world countries?”

“No,” Charlie said flatly. “If that were the case, it would only make sense to send the whole computer.”

“Then why are Bob and Gayle posing as Robin Hood and Maid Marian?” I said. “It seems like they’re collecting hard drives and re-distributing them to needy people.”

“Who needs a hard drive within two weeks?” Charlie countered. “Technology isn’t a life-or-death situation.”

It certainly wasn’t for me. I’d be perfectly happy if I never had another awkward email exchange or a poorly connected cell phone conversation again. That wouldn’t be the case today, since Charlie’s phone continued to buzz.

“I forgot about the baby,” I whispered to Charlie as he handed me the phone. I was a terrible friend. We had nine months to prepare for this birth, and we chose Katrina’s due date to leave the house. I’d have to fire myself from my BFF position.

“Hey,” she moaned. “Norma’s not answering. Are you sure she stays overnight at your parent’s house? Maybe she’s at her own house?”

“You called my mother’s house number?” I asked.

“I called Norma’s cell too,” Katrina huffed and puffed. “Nothing. Vicky said the contractions are too far apart for her to come over now, but I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m so sorry, Trina. Keep breathing. We’re on our way,” I said and then turned to Frank. “We forgot to tell you Katrina’s in labor.”

Frank groaned, and Charlie tossed him what was left of the candies. I dialed my parent’s house. After five rings, the call went to the answering machine. The recording, taped by my mother during a bender, instructed the caller to leave a methage. I made a mental note to have my mother update the recording, and then I left an urgent message telling Norma to call me. I frowned at Charlie’s phone.

“Are the pigs winning?” Charlie asked.

“I’m not playing Angry Birds,” I answered.

“Katrina will be fine,” he said. “People have babies all the time.”

“Women have babies all the time,” I said, “and that’s not the issue. Norma’s not home. Where would she be at this time of the morning?”

Frank leaned forward from the back seat. “You can’t locate Norma?”

I shook my head. Frank punched the roof of the car with one hand and held his head with the other.