at her knee. “When have you ever done things in the right order?”
Mom laughed, and the three of them all started talking at the same time.
“Hey Jaz, the baby’s due two days after my twenty-eighth birthday. How cool a present is that?” Simon called to me. “I phoned my dad with the news, and he’s flying across the pond a few months after the baby’s born.”
As if I should still care. Simon’s dad moved to England years ago when he split with Simon’s mom. I knew Simon would be pumped about seeing him again, but I hardened my heart, trying not to think about our long talks about absent fathers. I didn’t want to care about Simon or his life anymore.
I imagined myself standing up and pointing an accusing finger at Simon. Not cool at all, you two-timing freak. How far did you go after I saw you making out with Lacey? Did you get her pregnant too?
I pictured Grandma smashing her good china on Simon’s head. I swallowed the permanent wedge in my throat and added an image of my mom collapsing on the floor in a ladylike faint to my fantasy. But then I imagined her grabbing her stomach. Losing the baby.
“Jasmine?” Grandma said.
I glanced up.
“This is great news, isn’t it?” Grandma spoke in a soft voice that told me she suspected something.
“Clearly much happier than it was seventeen years ago when she made the same announcement,” I said and stood, almost knocking the plate of cinnamon buns off the table with my knee. “I have to get going.” If I stayed another moment, I’d burst into tears. Or spill the secret. And I didn’t want to do either.
“Jasmine,” Mom and Grandma said at the same time with equal unhappiness in their voices. I had the urge to yell, “Jinx. You owe me a beer,” at them.
“Where do you have to go right now?” The wrinkles on Grandma’s face deepened as she stared up at me. “This is a celebration.”
I started coughing and couldn’t stop.
When I got myself under control, I saw a look pass between Simon and Mom as if they felt sorry for me. As if I was acting like a jerk because I was jealous of their baby or something. As if I was the one doing something wrong.
“I have to work.” True. Even if it wasn’t for an hour.
I ran from the living room and raced upstairs to change into my work stuff and grab my guitar. I hurried back down with my guitar case slung over my shoulder.
“Can I use Grandpa’s car to go to work?” I called to Grandma in the living room. I didn’t drive it often because I was afraid of getting in an accident and ruining our only connection to him. Funny that Grandpa had been gone so long, but it was still his car. It always would be. It even had the faint smell of him lingering in the cloth seats.
“Why’re you taking your guitar to work?” Grandma yelled.
“I’ll be jamming after work. At Lacey’s,” I lied. That was the last place I’d go, but I’d find somewhere to play.
“Fine. Drive carefully.”
I went to the front door to grab the key off the hook where Grandma kept it.
“She’s the one acting like a baby,” I heard Grandma say as the door banged behind me. “But she’ll get used to the idea. It’ll grow on her.”
I had the urge to sit down on the front lawn and cry. Simon had gotten drunk and made out with my best friend while my pregnant mom waited at home.
But I was the one who got to be the bad guy. And keep his secret.
chapter three
I rushed through the parking lot of Grinds, wiping my clammy hands on my pants. I only had two minutes to spare before my shift started. I’d gone for a long drive to try to clear my messed-up thoughts. Hurrying inside, I slipped through the employee entrance and clocked in.
A long line of impatient customers swirled around the café. Lacey looked up from the cash register, her eyes staring right into mine, before turning back to a woman in line. I blew out a breath of relief that she was too busy to talk, pulled my blue apron off a hook, and joined Amber in the Pit. I didn’t deal with customers most shifts. Amber knew that wasn’t my forte.
“Thank goodness you’re here. It’s crazy.” Amber squirted caramel in a decorative flower pattern on top of a mug