The Other Path Chapter 92

"Was today your last class?" Rick asks, helping Kate settle herself on the couch.

"Until the department selects the next batch of recruits. But that won't be for months, maybe longer. The academy's getting caught in the budget cuts. Not enrolling new cadets keeps costs down."

"Will the department have enough cops to keep up with attrition?" Rick wonders.

"Probably not," Kate replies, "but the City Council sets the budget and there's not much we can do about it."

"Have you decided when you're going to take leave? Dr. Drake was making noises about your blood pressure and taking it easy."

"She said it was still in the safe range."

"Barely within the safe range. And that was with you sitting quietly in her examining room, not supervising an interrogation. Isn't Medina ready to temporarily fill the Beckett shoes yet?"

"She's more than ready," Kate admits. "My shower is this weekend. Maybe I'll talk to Gates on Monday."

"How about if you definitely talk to Gates on Monday? Why do you want to put it off, Kate?"

"Because since Montgomery brought me into Homicide, the 12th Precinct is the one place I felt I totally belonged. I pretty much always knew what I was supposed to be doing. But I'll be leaving to enter brand new territory. Medina may be ready, but I'm not sure I am."

Rick drops down beside his wife. "Then I guess we'll be stepping off the edge of the earth together."

"What do you mean?"

"Paula called just before you came home. Sigmond and Schumann are going to publish my GAN. I'll either be breathing rarified literary air or getting roasted by the Times' Book Review."

"Sigmond and Schumann doesn't take on books it doesn't believe it can sell, does it?"

"Not usually. But it's had a few heavy tomes crash and burn. Do you remember "The Peripheral Parade," Blakely's novel about laborers on the edge of power?"

"No," Kate admits.

"Neither does anyone else. It went from the bookstores' front windows to the bargain bin in nanoseconds. Blakely's a great writer – of paranormal romances. But she wasn't able to make the transition to higher literary realms. My book could be sucked into the black hole of ignominy just as quickly."

"Or you could be the popular author who breaks through the snob wall," Kate counters.

Rick squares his shoulders. "I could, couldn't I? I suppose I'll find out. And in the first couple of years with the baby, I may be too enthralled and exhausted to care. So what is the not-so-little one craving for dinner tonight? I have steaks and chicken ready to go, or we have expedited delivery status with all your favorite restaurants."

"I've been dying for a fluffernutter all day."

"A fluffernutter," Rick repeats. "Well that's easy enough, but you know the minute I open the jar of you know what, Cronut's going to be all over us."

"Then he can get his without the fluff," Kate proposes.

"Right. I'll serve him first. Then we can make like seven-year-olds in peace."

Kate's hands circle the rise of her abdomen. "Sounds good."


Lanie regards the loft's great room with satisfaction. Pink balloons festoon the walls. A giant cake graces one table while drinks and snacks abound on another. A third is set aside for presents. The food is courtesy of Maddie Queller's Q3 and couldn't be better. The M.E. gave some thought to playing games, but other than the baby accouterment memory challenge, Kate nixed them all. Castle did, however, promise to deliver a surprise guest. With the amazing array of people Castle knows, it could be anyone. Lanie's hoping it isn't one of his weirder friends.

Unsurprisingly, Alexis is the first to arrive and immediately volunteers to help. There's not much the soon-to-be older sister can do, but Lanie puts her to arranging chairs. Martha sweeps in shortly afterward. The other guests arrive in fits and starts with a sleepy-looking Jenny Ryan being the last. Actually, Jenny's the next to last, Lanie considers. Castle's addition has yet to make an appearance. The doorbell buzzes again, just as Lanie's about to get the festivities going.

On the other side of the threshold stands Super-Sitter, the star of a reality show where she copes with the most challenging babysitting crises. "I hope I'm not late. We were shooting one of those ridiculous promos this morning and it ran overtime."

Rick comes to the door. "Jilly, great to see you! The last time we met up was on 'New York at Dawn,' wasn't it? I was plugging Heat Rising and you were there to explain how to stop tantrums in their tracks. I suppose you could call our presentations thematically linked."

"I wish I'd had you around when I was raising him," Martha declares. "He was a handful, I can tell you. And..."

"I think we should get the party started now," Lanie interjects.


"Martha wins the Mommy Mind Muddle," Lanie announces.

"All those years of memorizing lines will give one an edge," the diva explains. "But we should get on to what everyone wants to see, the grand reveals."

"You should open your presents now, Kate," Lanie agrees.

Kate waddles over to the gift table and studies the pile of brightly wrapped packages. I don't know where to start."

"How about the big one next to the table," Lanie suggests, "As if we couldn't all see what it is anyway."

As Kate starts tearing the paper away from what's obviously a stroller, she begins to feel a little damp. She peed just before the party, but she could be leaking a bit. At least in her voluminous clothes, nothing will show. As she continues to unwrap her gifts, she feels increasingly wet. "Excuse me, I need to – you know, I'm pregnant."

Laughter ripples through the room as Kate makes her way to the master bath, grabbing a change of underwear on the way. The old ones are soaked and the clear liquid doesn't smell like pee. Lanie knocks on the bathroom door. "Kate, are you OK?"

"Lanie, can you come in? I didn't get a gush like I've seen on TV, but I think my water broke."

Lanie takes a quick look at Kate's panties and at Kate. "You're right, girlfriend. Time to go to the hospital."

"The baby's not due yet!" Kate protests.

"You're well past the point when the baby's lungs should be mature enough to breathe well on her own. That's what matters, Kate. But once your water breaks, you risk infection if she stays in there. And your labor will probably start on its own, but if not, your OB may induce."

"I need to call Dr. Drake."

"You can call her when you're on your way."

After a one-sentence explanation, Rick leaves Alexis in charge of the party while he hurries to retrieve the car from the loft's underground garage. He takes the wheel with Lanie in the back with Kate, who's on her cell phone. "Don't go running any red lights, Castle," Lanie orders. "We don't need any accidents. The baby's not coming yet."

"How about calling the 12th for an escort?" Rick proposes, pulling out onto Broome Street.

"That's only for emergencies, Babe," Kate reminds him. "And the department is short-handed enough as it is."

"It will be an emergency if I have a heart attack before we get there," Rick grumbles.

"Take a breath, Castle," Lanie urges. "Waters break all the time. Just get us to the hospital in one piece."

Rick watches a light go green up ahead. Hopefully, it's a good omen.