1 Chapter 1

Our mother named us after countries in Africa. My sister and I have suffered all our lives for this hippie-doodie great idea. At least I can go by Ken, for Kenya, but she’s stuck with Botswana, and explaining why she goes by Swan gets confusing. Her temper matches her red hair at those times. My own hair is a nicer shade of bronze, thank you very much. Her husband’s hair is black, but he’s currently away in the military.

So I’m sitting quietly in a nice, upscale gay bar, The Wild Hare, when my cell phone rings. Immediately, I try to figure out how I can make this handsome stud I’m talking to think I’m popular and make him want me. I mean, it’s been a while, and he’s really cute!

So I say, “Hello there,” in my sexiest voice.

Big mistake. I never should have picked up.

She shouts, yeah, guess who, my sister, that’s who, “The baby’s coming! You have to come take me to the ER!” This is followed by an ear-splitting, red-headed scream of pain and fear.

The cute guy I was talking to turns on his stool so he is facing the guy on his other side. It pretty much looks like everyone in the entire bar has heard her words. I will never be able to come in here again.

The bartender holds out my bill. “You do know this is a gay bar, right?” he asks, one eyebrow rising up to where his hairline used to be. Bitch.

Nonetheless, I’m a good brother and hope to be a good uncle, and besides, she’s two years older than I am. I’m twenty-eight, she’s thirty. This is her first, and she’ll kill me later if I don’t do as she says. It’s always been that way. So I leave, my head held high, pissed off, embarrassed, and trying not to show either.

When I get to her house, her old neighbor, who is at least eighty and looks demented, is standing in her living room, waving his hands around, saying, “Calm down, I can deliver it. You don’t need to do a thing. Just lie down and spread your legs!”

Maybe he’s not as demented as he lets us think. But here I am, the conquering hero, ready to save the day.

Swan screams, “You took your fucking time, you asshole!” and bends over, holding her stomach, which is huge. How many does she have in there, for God’s sake, twelve?

I soothe the neighbor, who winks at me, and usher my sister out the door and into my car, trying not to think about my brand new upholstery. As we pull away, I see the old coot in my sister’s window, holding up her dachshund, making him wave goodbye with his little brown paw.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but I was really looking forward to making a new—friend—at the bar, even if he was only a one-night friend, if you get my drift. I had started planning for my sister’s event quite a while ago. I was just sore it had come at such an inconvenient time, for me, anyway, and I know my brother-in-law had hoped to be home by now. But she was my sister, and it was my job and my pleasure to help her in her hour of need, just like she’d helped me so many times. (Is my sarcasm evident?) But I’m nice, so I kept it cool. I turned on the music list I had picked for this very occasion, and “Push It” came roaring out of my car speakers. She didn’t get it; she was breathing too loud to even hear it.

“Whoosh, whoosh, inhale, be at peace, dammit ouch fucking ow, oh, my God, my water just broke! Can you drive any faster than this, you idiot? I’m in pain here!”

I couldn’t have planned it any better: “When the Levee Breaks” came on.

“Agh! I’m dying here. Oh, my God, it’s coming!”

I wasn’t really worried. It was only ten more miles to the hospital. What could happen in ten minutes? Yes, I was hitting sixty on the straightaways and, lo and behold, ran two red lights and started hearing sirens along with my sister’s screams.

“Cut the Swan Song,” I shouted over her voice. She was screaming in between pants. Out the rear view mirror, I could see several blue light specials following us. “There’s the cops,” I said, ready to slow down and tell them what was going on.

But when I started to slow down, Swan grabbed the wheel and screamed, “If you stop, I’ll kill you!”

I laughed, remembering all the tricks she’d pulled on me over the years, some funny, some painful, some completely humiliating. Her sense of urgency just seemed like one more time.