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Chapter Forty-Four

"It's been like a week and I swear to God I can't find my living room," Nick was whispering into the phone, "You should see it. It's like a snowflake threw up."

"What?"

"She's got all this shit everywhere..." Brian heard things shifting around on the other end of the line, "Bridal Digest, Vera Wang catalogues... I dunno, it's insane. I feel like I got sucked into a lace factory and I'm being held prisoner..." Nick's voice trailed off. "Not that being a prisoner is a bad thing, I mean, yanno, it could get kinda kinky, but..."

"I'm sure you'll survive," Brian replied. He was cooking dinner while listening to Nick's mid-afternoon crisis. He'd been having these regularly since he'd gotten engaged. Brian already knew that part of his role as best man at Nick's wedding was going to involve forcibly ensuring Nick's presence at the alter. Probably it would involve a tether.

"It's friggin' insane," Nick hissed, his voice rising on the panic scale from kinda sorta nervous to full blown can't breathe scared to death holy shit. "Maybe this is a bad idea," he added.

Brian had dealt with this, too. "Of course it isn't. Dude you're freaking out about a few wedding magazines and some toole."

"Tools?"

"Toole, that's the lacy dress stuff."

"The shit that looks like a screen?"

"Yep. Toole."

"Why is it all over my living room?"

"Because it's not just your living room anymore, Nick, it's your living room."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"It does, though."

"She has a bedroom."

"So do you."

"My point is, she should put all her fluffy white girl crap up there."

"Nick, she's excited, and she wants to share the fluffy white girl crap with you. Just roll with it man."

"But the Buccs are on tomorrow. What if I can't see them around all her tools?"

"Toole," Brian corrected, "It's not a plural."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"I think I'm gonna die," Nick whispered.

"You aren't going to die."

"No I swear I am."

Brian's phone beeped. He pulled it away from his ear. He had a call coming in. When he put the phone back to his ear, he was greeted with Nick's whiniest voice continuing on about the toole. Brian paused. "Nick," he said. Beep. "Nick?" Beep.

"It's just like it's everywhere dude I feel like I fell into a mofo of a cupcake, ya'know? I mean not that being in a cupcake would be bad - gimme a fork and I'd eat the crap out of that but --"

"Nick?" Beep.

"-- my ass would not be happy with me if I ate a house-sized cupcake, though. And there's no cherry. No sirre --"

"Nii-iick!" Beep.

" -- that sucka's long gone..."

"As much as I'd love to continue hearing about your fictional space cupcake and Lauren's virginity or whatever it is we're discussing right now, I've got another call coming in so I'm going to hang up on you now."

"What?"

"Goodbye Nick."

Brian pulled the phone away from his ear and disconnected from Nick, switching lines and answering the other phone call. "Hello?" he asked, without having seen the caller ID.

Molly's voice was frantic. "Brian?"

"Molly?"

"Oh thank God. Where the hell are you guys?"

Brian paused. "Um... me and Baylee?" he asked uncertainly.

"And Emma?"

"Well me and Baylee are here at the house..." he said slowly, "I'm in the kitchen to be real specific. Emma, I believe, should probably be at your house?"

"You mean she isn't with you?"

"Uh no."

"I told Jake ---" Molly let out a frustrated crow of sound.

Brian stared into the pasta water he was boiling. "The last time I saw her was --" he paused. He didn't actually want to think about the last time he'd seen her. He'd told her he loved her, and she'd brushed it off until he'd practically begged for a response before half-heartedly muttering a response, then disappearing. "After the movie," he ended hastily.

"She never came home."

Brian was silent while the meaning of the words processed. An irrational fear filled him. His mouth went dry. "She didn't?"

"No." Now Molly was near tears.

Brian's mind was sailing through images, scenes, moments. He saw the couch in Atlanta - heard the phone ringing, the blue-screen glow of the television. The Price is Right. The voice of the nurse on the phone. Mr. Littrell, I'm calling because there was an accident and we need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible. He heard Baylee's voice when he woke him up. In now-time, he reached for the burner's knob, turned it off, his hands shaking.He lowered into a kitchen chair.

"Brian," Molly's voice broke, "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Brian whispered.

But even as the words flowed from his mouth he did know. He didn't know how he knew, only that he did. His stomach turned and he clutched the edge of the table. "No," he stammered, "Actually, I do know." He closed his eyes. "Can you watch Baylee for me for a couple days?"

"Days?"

"I need to go get Emma."