“Oh, hush.” Mom chuckles. “Anyway, Marshall, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I didn’t get a chance to go out today to pick up my arthritis medication. Do you mind stopping by the drugstore to pick it up for me?”
“Sure. Do you need anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Same pharmacy as last time?” I ask.
“Yes. Thank you, Marsh. You know you’re my favorite, right?” she asks.
My brothers make their displeasure with her statement known, while my sisters laugh, and I sneak another magic bar while making a mental note to run an extra mile on my treadmill tonight.
My mother’s laughter flows through the speaker. “I love you all. I’ll see you soon.” The line goes silent. Locking the screen, I shove my phone back into my pocket.
“See, I told you I was the favorite.” I point at my chest, a smirk playing on my lips.
“You’re the baby, not the favorite. There’s a difference,” Grant counters.
“Well, you’re the middle man.”
“That’s why she loves me best.” He smiles, satisfied with his comeback.
“We should let you get back to work,” Aspen says, looking over her shoulder at Conrad, who’s standing behind her with his hands resting on their unborn son.
“We should. I think it’s nap time before we head to your parents’,” Aurora agrees.
“Fine,” Grant grumbles. He leans in and kisses her, then bends to place a kiss on her swollen belly.
“You’re leaving these, right?” Layla asks, moving the container of what’s left of the magic bars closer to her.
Aurora and Aspen both laugh. “Yes, those are yours.”
“You have to share,” I remind them like the spoiled youngest child that I am. Hell, it wouldn’t matter if I was the oldest like Royce or the middle man like Grant. I’d fight for another taste of anything that my two baking sisters-in-law make. It’s legit that good.
After a round of hugs, we all go back to work. Their surprise visit was just the afternoon pick-me-up we all needed. I know it was for me. Sitting back at my desk, I return a few calls and get lost in work for a few more hours.
A little after four, I leave the office. I want to run by the pharmacy for Mom, and then head to their place before everyone gets there. I need snuggle time with my nephews, and my damn brothers will steal them away. I might be the youngest of the family, but I’m also the smartest. I’ll have a good hour of Uncle Marsh, Carter, and Roan time before the rest of my family descends.
After parking my car in front of the pharmacy, I grab the keys and head inside. I make my way to the back of the store to pick up Mom’s prescription. There’s a line, but that’s nothing new. I don’t know that I’ve ever been here to pick up a prescription when I didn’t have to wait.
The woman in front of me appears to be my age, and she has a baby in an infant seat with her. She’s swaying the seat back and forth, and I know from my nephews it’s a trick parents use to soothe the baby. Royce and Owen even strap the kids in and take them for a drive. I remember Mom telling Owen when Carter was born that she and Dad did the same thing with each of us when we were babies.
She adjusts her stance and stumbles a little. On instinct, I reach out and brace my hands on her hips to steady her.
“I’m so sorry.” She’s quick to apologize.
“Don’t be. You have your hands full.” I motion to the baby, swaddled in lots of pink with wide eyes, as she takes in the new surroundings.
The woman blows out a puff of air. “You have no idea,” she mumbles.
“How old is she?” I ask. It’s partly to make casual conversation. The other part is that I can feel the stress coming off her in waves. If I’ve learned anything from my two oldest brothers being dads, it’s that talking about their kids always brightens their days. Well, their kids and their wives. Besides, I’m getting good at this baby stuff. I’d say she’s close to Roan’s age at five or so months old.
Sure enough, the woman smiles down at the baby. “Five months today.”
I lean over closer to the baby. “Happy five months, sweet girl,” I coo at her. Don’t judge. Babies are cute as hell. It’s not until I stand back up to my full height and I see the mom’s wide eyes, I realize I might come off as a creeper. Fuck.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I have a five-month-old nephew and a one-and-a-half-year-old nephew. They’re the best,” I add, hoping it makes me seem less like a creeper.
“Next!” The line moves forward, and it’s the woman’s turn.
I tune her out as she talks to the pharmacy technician, and yes, that’s what they’re called. I hooked up with a woman who was a pharmacy tech and had to hear all about her job and how she wanted to be a pharmacist. I’m not a complete dick. I listen when they talk. That still doesn’t mean that we’re going to ride off into the sunset together.
The baby begins to cry, and I assume it’s because her momma is no longer swaying back and forth with her. I’d offer to do it for her, but I’ve reached my limit for creeper today, so instead, I stand back and watch as the little girl's cries grow louder. It’s not until I notice her mom’s shoulders slump that I tune into the conversation.
“I’m sorry. Without insurance, that’s the cost of the medication.”
“It was only ten dollars the last time,” the woman says, with desperation in her voice.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. That was because you had a coupon from the drug company.”
Those same shoulders that slumped begin to shake. Here’s something you might not know about me, I hate to see anyone cry. What’s worse is a woman in tears. What’s worse is a woman with a baby in tears. And even worse than that, a woman with a baby, they’re both crying, and apparently, the mom can’t afford the baby’s medication. At least I assume it’s for the fussy baby with the red-rimmed eyes.
I step forward and place my hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Allow me,” I say, pulling my wallet out of my pants pocket and pulling out some cash.
“No. I can’t let you do that,” she protests, tears pooling in her eyes, and from the looks of it, threatening to fall.
“Let me ask you something. Is this for her?” I point to the baby, who is now crying even louder.
She nods. “Ear infection.”
“Let me help you. No strings. Just pay it forward one day when you are able.” I can tell she’s wavering by the way she bites down on her bottom lip. “Take it for her.”
She nods. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back… when I can.”
I wave her off. My underwear that I’m currently wearing costs more than this prescription. If that doesn’t put things into perspective, I don’t know what does. “As I said, one day, you’ll be able to pay it forward.” I hand the cash to the tech, and she quickly rings up the prescription. She hands me my change, and I go to put it back in my wallet but instead, I pull out two more one-hundred-dollar bills. I grab the bag and pretend to be looking inside and drop the money before closing it tightly. “Diaper bag?” I ask her.