The fourth month passed, then the fifth. On the show my family anxiously awaited the arrival of our baby brother.

Emily was still sick nearly constantly. She arrived late almost everyday. Sometimes she didn't trust herself to drive and would call Shawn to pick her up. He served her without complaint or animosity, which was a breath of fresh air to the rest of us in the Saving Emily club.

I was awoken every early one Saturday by the sound of my phone buzzing.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Rosie."

Emily's voice on the other line sounded tired, as if she hadn't slept in a week. I also noticed a slight shake, as if she were very weak.

"I need a huge favor," she went on, halfway between a sigh and a grimace.

"Sure," I replied eagerly, "what's up?"

Emily actually did sigh. "I need help. Benny's here and I just can't run after him today. I was wondering if--"

"If I could watch him?"

I imagined her nodding. "I'll be here, I just am not really in a position to entertain."

"Of course," I told her, "I'd be happy to. When do you want me?"

Emily breathed another sigh of undisguised relief. "Thank you. Can you come soon? Like, now?"

"Oh," I looked at the phone's clock, which read seven-thirty, "um, sure."

"Thank you," she breathed once more, and I thought I heard a bit of emotion behind her words, "thank you."

I hurriedly dressed and rushed out the door, making record time to the Bates home. I rang the doorbell and waited for an answer.

"Benny!" I heard Emily's voice call, sounding even weaker than it had on the phone. "Please get the door!"

"Wosie!" he cried, flinging the door open excitedly, "You came to play with me?"

"Yep," I said with a laugh.

He moved aside to let me in. I looked around. Emily was propped up by several pillows on a couch in the living room. She smiled and waved when she saw me, but didn't say anything.

I frowned. Her eyes were ringed with nearly black circles. Her face was ashen and her body was shaking slightly, as if she had just finished throwing up.

"Aunt Emmy!" Benny exclaimed, bounding over to her and taking her trembling hands. "Wosie's here!"

"I know," she whispered, matching his excitement, "you're going to have a great day with her, aren't you?"

He nodded vigorously. Emily smiled, squeezing his hand. Her other hand slipped over her swollen belly.

"Aunt Emmy?" Benny questioned, his eyes following her hand, "Is the baby okay?"

"Oh yes, Sweetheart," she smiled. "She's very wiggly today."

"Wiggly?"

"Mm-hmm," she took his hand and placed it gently over the middle of her stomach. Benny stood there awkwardly for what seemed to be a long time, staring at his aunt in confused expectation, before suddenly gasping and pulling his hand away.

"She moved!"

Emily chuckled, then winced. "That's not all she's doing."

Benny hesitated, then cautiously put his hand back where she showed him. This time he screamed.

"What's she doing?"

"She's kicking!" Emily said with a laugh, "Kicking up a storm."

Benny laughed too, bringing his other hand down. "It's so weird!"

Emily smiled lovingly at him, and I was surprised to see tears shining in her eyes. "I think she likes you," she whispered.

"I like her, too," he told her reverently.

He then looked up at me. "You wanna feel, Wosie?"

"Um," I hesitated, feeling awkward.

"She doesn't have to if she doesn't want to, Benny," Emily told him.

"Come on," he said, taking my hand and pulling me over to the couch, "it's cool!"

I nearly fell onto Emily as he yanked my hand down against her stomach. She smiled apologetically at me as we waited for the baby to move again. I couldn't help but gasp as Benny had when it suddenly shifted.

"Did you feel it?" he exclaimed.

I nodded, smiling in spite of myself. A few seconds later it kicked, and I was surprised at the small but firm burst of strength.

"Amazing," I found myself breathing.

"It's not so amazing when that's all you feel all day every day," she smiled. "But yes, it is pretty cool."

She then sat up. "Okay, Benny, go play. Be good for Rosie."

He sighed and took my hand, leading me out of the room. We climbed the staircase up to the landing. He turned right and, for one frightful moment, I thought he was steering me right to the haunting nursery I had stayed in on my first visit. Then, to my relief, he pulled open a door just short of it.

"This is my room!" he said proudly, shoving me in.

I stared around. Superhero posters and baseball cards had been tacked haphazardly to the baby blue walls, completely covering the paint in some places. Off to one side was a small bed with a jean quilt draped over dinosaur sheets, all in disarray and hanging off the bed in some places, leaving one corner of the mattress naked. His pillow--the case matching the sheets--was lying on the ground a few feet away.

The floor was littered with toys. Several action figures--some missing limbs from probably being stepped on before--had been scattered around the room as if Benny had dumped them out slowly while moving.

A pile of blocks sat in one corner, piled up beside a small work table rather than upon. A couple of sad-looking towers lay in ruins on top.

The room had a faint smell of rot, as if its naughty little owner had snuck food up and then forgotten about it. I wondered what Emily would say when she was able to climb the stairs again.

I smiled at his expectant face. "I like it."

He grinned proudly and dragged me further into the room. I sat down on the bed then hopped back up again, staring in surprise at the glob of acid-green goo that was probably stuck to the seat of my pants now.

"My slime!" he cried, zooming over to the bed and picking it up, smiling gratefully at me for finding it.

I watched as he roamed the room, scouring toy bins and the floor while stretching his slime. I tried to ignore the unpleasant sounds the slime was famous for making as it was squished. He frowned when he couldn't find what he was looking for.

"What are you looking for?" I asked. I was still standing, afraid to sit on anything else.

"My dragon," he then clapped a hand to his mouth, as if he had spoiled a great surprise.

"It's okay," I told him, "we can play with something else until we find it."

His frown deepened like that was not what he wanted to do, but he sighed and went over to the building table. I knelt down beside him as he reached into a storage place under the table and dumped out a small box of blocks, rather than using the ones on the floor.

"Let's build a town!"

I nodded and we set to work. The two of us built in silence for a while, me constructing a few houses while he started on the road.

"Not like that!" he cried once when I tried to build a roof for one of the buildings by stacking the miniature rectangles in a sort of pyramid fashion. He pulled off my pieces then fished out a long, thin board-looking one and slapped it down on top. "There."

We must have worked on our town for an hour and had gotten pretty far along on it when Benny grew bored.

"I don't want to play anymore," he moaned, pulling my hand away from a bank I was finishing and quite proud of.

"What do you want to do?" I asked, a little annoyed that I wasn't allowed to complete it.

He stood up and left the room without another word. I followed with a sigh. We walked back downstairs. I peeked into the living room as we passed. Emily was curled up on the couch, sound asleep. I watched as she suddenly moaned, turning slightly in the limited space and placing one hand protectively over her stomach.

She shivered and I hurried over to her and draped her blanket, which had fallen on the ground, back over her. Emily sighed and cuddled against the sudden warmth like a kitten, her pained expression relaxing slightly.

I then turned and hurried after Benny into a cluttered sort of office. He pulled paper from the printer while I glanced around.

The office was obviously Steve's. All around was evidence of his career. The narrow shelves were filled to capacity with well-used medical textbooks. A magenta stethoscope was draped over a cracked faux-leather desk chair. There was even a plastic skeleton peeking out of a small closet on the far side of the room.

Benny stepped without thought over a pile of boxes and opened a drawer in the cluttered desk. He reached in and grabbed every crayon his pudgy hands could close upon.

"Come on!" he then told me, hopping over the boxes again on his way out. I followed, picking my way gingerly past a toppled chest full of spilled art supplies.

Benny dropped the crayons down on the kitchen table, which had been immaculate the last time I had sat at it but now was sticky and laden with dishes from what seemed to be the last three meals. Benny brushed them aside like it was no big deal.

"Here, Wosie," he said, setting a piece of paper in front of me. It immediately drew grease stains.

I stood up, deciding something had to be done, and went over to the sink, which was overflowing with more dishes. There was a washcloth, but even from where I stood it reeked of mildew. I searched the surrounding drawers until I found a fresh one.

Wetting it, I brought it back to the table and began scrubbing the area in front of our chairs. I managed to get off most of the stains, but the stubborn stickiness refused to budge.

Benny had already begun drawing, not caring in the least about the mess. I sighed, realizing that it wasn't hurting him so I would be fine, too, and hung the rag as neatly as I could over the faucet in the sink.

I hoped I wasn't embarrassing anyone by making such a big deal about the mess. With a sigh I remembered my own house, and how it was probably about a thousand times worse on a good day. It was just shocking to see Emily's house in such disarray. She was the finest housekeeper I knew. It was understandable that there wasn't much she could do about it at the moment, but it was still a sight I wasn't used to.

Benny and I colored in silence. Every so often he would look up and ask me to pass a crayon, but, otherwise, he focused on his own work.

"Look, Wosie!" he suddenly cried, holding his completed picture up.

"Nice!" I said, nodding in approval at the three blobs he had outlined in pink and colored in blue and green, "I like it."

"It's us!" he cried, jabbing his finger at each blob in turn. "Me, you, and Aunt Emmy!"

I noticed that Emily's blob was significantly larger around the middle than the rest of them.

"What's she holding?" I questioned, pointing to the large blue oval attached to her short stick-arm, trying to make conversation.

He beamed. "It's my sister! The baby!"

"Oh," I said, surprised, "great job!"

"I'm gonna show it to Aunt Emmy!"

Before I could react, Benny had flown from the room. By the time I had jumped up from the table and made to stop him, he was in the living room. He dashed over to the couch and shook Emily roughly.

She gasped, her eyes flying open. "W--Wha--"

"Aunt Emmy!" Benny cried, shoving the paper into her face, "Look!"

She grabbed his arm and pushed the drawing to a distance she could actually see it, still sputtering.

After a moment of studying, her face broke into a tired smile. "It's beautiful."

"It's us! Me, you, and Wosie!"

She giggled softly, eyeing me. "I've never been the fat one before. Always the stick one."

"And look!" he prompted, annoyed at her not noticing quick enough, smashing his finger against the page.

Emily's eyes widened as she took in the tiny blob. "What is it?"

"It's the baby!" he cried, sinking down to eye level with Emily's stomach as if he were able to see inside it.

Emily smiled. "I love it." She then settled back onto the mound of pillows, returning the drawing to him.

"No!" he cried, pushing it back toward her, "It's for you. You aren't feeling good so I want to make you feel better!"

Her smile widened. "Thank you," she whispered, then pointed to the small coffee table beside her, "just put it here, okay?"

Benny let the paper flutter down onto the table. "Come on, Wosie!" he then said, grabbing my hand again. We were off again.

We played outside for a while on the sweeping lawn of the surprisingly large backyard, then, at Benny's request, I made a lunch of peanut butter sandwiches.

"I wish Uncle Steve were here," he told me between bites.

"Does he like peanut butter sandwiches?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

Benny nodded. "And he makes them a secret way," he looked up at me suddenly as if unsure whether I could be trusted with this information.

"What way?" I asked, just to see if he would tell me.

Benny looked around warily, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "He adds sprinkles. Aunt Emmy doesn't like him to, though, so he just does it when she's gone."

"Wow," I said. I'd never heard of such a thing.

"Mm-hm," he told me, "Aunt Emmy says it wastes them, and that sprinkles are yucky. It tastes really yummy, though."

He then looked at me. "You know," he said, "we have some if you wanna try it."

"But you just said Aunt Emmy doesn't like it."

"Yeah," he pressed, "but Aunt Emmy's not in charge, you are."

"Aunt Emmy's always in charge," I told him, "she's--"

I stopped, having nearly said the phrase "she's the mom."

"But Wosie!" he cried, "She's not here. It'll be okay."

"Remember what happened last time you said that?"

He frowned, remembering just as I did how big a disaster it had been the first time I'd watched him and he said he was allowed to have popcorn.

"Let's just not, Benny," I practically begged him.

"Not what?"

We both turned around and I gasped. Emily was standing in the doorway, looking exhausted and ill, but up and around.

"Aunt Emmy!" Benny cried, bounding over to her, "can me and Wosie do something?"

"What?" she asked him, suspicious as to why he was being evasive.

"Something," he told her nervously, "something Uncle Steve did."

"You are not putting sprinkles on your sandwich," she told him firmly.

"I wasn't talking about that!" he whined.

"Then what were you talking about?"

"Argh! Nevermind!" Benny huffed, turning and slouching back to his chair.

With a sigh, Emily crossed over to the table. I stood, offering my seat, but she waved me off, preferring to just lean against the table.

"I've been sitting for five months. Give me a break."

"You want a sandwich?" I asked.

"I can't," she told me with a sigh.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Rosie, you're not my slave," she told me in exasperation. "You don't need to do everything for me."

I nodded with some embarrassment and sat back down. Benny was picking at his sandwich, apparently refusing to eat in protest.

"Benny, eat your food," Emily told him.

"It's not good!" he pouted.

"It was just fine a minute ago."

"Do you want more jelly?" I asked him with a quick glance at Emily.

"No!" he retorted, "We only have the yucky kind."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Benny, you're not having anything else. If you don't eat your sandwich you won't eat anything else for the rest of the day."

Benny gasped like he could think of nothing more cruel. "No!"

"Benjamin Emil," Emily breathed, "that's not okay."

"You're mean!" he shouted. Before either of us could react, he took his plate and threw it on the ground.

The porcelain shattered, sending shards skidding across the floor in all directions.

"Benny!" Emily screamed, staring in horror at the wreckage.

The boy hopped down from his chair and fled before anyone could move to stop him. My eyes flitted helplessly from the door to Emily, who was gazing at the once beautiful remains of the plate with her hands over her mouth. It took me a moment to register the dull stinging of my ankle where a shard had hit it.

I felt glued to my seat, watching as Emily sank to her knees. She sniffed absently as she reached for a large piece of the plate, her swollen belly preventing her from reaching farther than a foot away from her.

I felt guilty, mentally tallying how many factors in the situation were my fault. Eventually I was able to leave the chair. I moved over to the large pantry, pulling out a broom and dustpan, along with a white trash can.

I started on the far side of the room, sweeping slowly and carefully, trying my best not to fling pieces away with each sweep.

"I--I'm sorry," I said as I moved closer to where Emily sat examining the intricate vine pattern along the edges of the porcelain.

Emily sighed in response. I sighed, too, wishing I could escape as Benny had.

I swept up a piece of squished bread crust. "Are we trying to save the sandwich?" I asked, smiling in spite of myself.

"No," she whispered.

I nodded. "I'm sorry," I said again. "If I'd have known--"

"That's just how he is, Rosie," she cut me off. "Benny's not a big eater. He'll be hungry again in half an hour, but won't ever finish anything."

I nodded again. "I'm sorry about the plate. Was it special?"

She shrugged. "Just the last of the wedding china."

I blanched.

Emily sighed and dropped the large piece into the trash can I had scooted over to her.

"I've got it," I told her, reaching down to help her up.

"I've got it," she told me, taking the broom from my hand once she was back on her feet.

"Are you--"

"Yes," she began sweeping. "Go check on Benny. Tell him I want to speak to him."

I nodded and, with one more glance back at Emily, left the room. I walked upstairs and knocked on Benny's door. There was no answer. Pressing an ear against the door, I listened hard. I could hear Benny crying behind the wall.

"Benny?" I called.

"G--go away!" he sobbed.

"Benny, please let me in," I begged.

I heard the sound of springs creaking as he slid off his bed and slouched over to the door. He opened it with a sigh.

"Benny?"

Benny threw himself into my arms. "W--Wosie!" he cried.

"Benny, what happened?" I asked him, "Why did you act out like that?"

"It's not f--fair!" he shouted.

"Benny," I said softly, rubbing his back, "you need to go back and say sorry. It really wasn't okay what you did back there."

The boy sniffed. "I hate Aunt Emmy!"

I gasped. "Benny, that's not true! Aunt Emmy is your best friend. She was just trying to help you. She didn't want you to be hungry later."

"Ever since the baby she has been mean! She won't let me eat sprinkles, she won't play with me! It's not fair!"

"Benny, Aunt Emmy just doesn't feel good," I assured him. "She still loves you. She wants to play with you, she just can't." I reached up and wiped away his tears. "Things are gonna be different now with the baby, but they'll still be good! They'll be better than ever because now you get a little sister to love and play with. Just wait. This will be the best thing that ever happened to you."

I stood and took his hand. "Let's go downstairs and say sorry to Aunt Emmy. You made her really sad."

Benny nodded and we went into the kitchen together. Emily had just finished sweeping. She wiped at her eyes when she saw us.

Benny sighed and walked over to her. "Aunt Emmy, I'm sorry I got mad and made a mess."

Emily hugged him. "Thank you for saying sorry. It made me really sad that you broke my plate. I think that you need to not watch movies with Uncle Steve tonight."

Benny gasped. "No!"

He started to cry, but stopped when Emily gave him a look.

"Aunt Emmy," he then said after he had calmed down, "I'm hungry."

Emily sighed and shook her head. Then she moved to the counter and made him another peanut butter sandwich.

"You eat all of it," she told him as she handed it to him.

Benny took the sandwich gratefully.

At that moment we heard a key in the lock.

"Uncle Steve!" Benny ran into the front room.

"Benny-Boy!" I heard Steve respond.

Emily sighed in relief and sat down at the table, too exhausted by the moment's events to continue standing. Steve walked into the kitchen, Benny hanging on his leg. He bent over and kissed Emily.

"Hi, Rosie," he then said to me.

I smiled at him in response.

Steve sat down at the table across from Emily and took her hands. "What have you all been doing today?"

"Uncle Steve!" Benny leaned his head against Steve's shoulder. "I can't watch movies tonight! I got in trouble."

"What happened?" Steve looked at his wife.

Emily sighed. "He got angry and broke a plate."

"Benny," Steve shook his head at the boy, "you know that's not okay."

Benny hung his head in shame. "I said sorry, but I still got in trouble."

"Well, that's how it works sometimes, Bud. We have to have consequences for our actions."

"Benny," Emily said, "why don't you show Uncle Steve the picture you made."

Benny's face lit up. "Okay!" He ran out of the room.

Emily sighed again and put her face in her hands. Steve patted her shoulder.

"Here it is, Uncle Steve!" Benny proclaimed loudly, rushing back into the room.

"Wow!" Steve exclaimed, "It's awesome!"

"It's me, Wosie, and Aunt Emmy! And look! It's the baby, too!"

Steve beamed with pride. "You're a great artist, just like Aunt Emmy!"

Emily sat up. "Have you finished your sandwich, Benny? Why don't you go play with your toys?"

After the boy had bounded out of sight, Emily looked at Steve and shook her head.

"Has today been a rough day?" he asked her knowingly.

"I just don't feel well," she sighed.

Steve stood up and looked at me. "Thank you so much for helping, Rosie."

He tried to pay me, but I refused.

"I'm just happy to help."

He clapped my shoulder. "You're a great girl, Rosie."

I made my way to the door. "See you later!"

As I left I heard Emily sigh again.