could call in?”
Even as I asked it, I knew it was a stupid question. Gina had a policy that neither death or dismemberment could keep her from a scheduled shift. Since I had similar values, I admired her sense of responsibility.
Or I did normally, when I didn’t really want to spend the day with her and the kid and the dog. Just putting together popcorn garland and listening to corny Christmas songs and loafing around doing nothing. I didn’t get a lot of those days, and now with a baby, I’d be getting them even less—especially once I told my dad and Mason about the new addition to the family, along with Bonnie and John and August and all the rest.
They would want to meet her and get to know her and then there would be sitters and school and so many things I couldn’t even comprehend yet. Things I was not prepared for in the slightest.
I was on borrowed time. The jig was almost up. Soon, I would no longer be able to pretend I was the same Jared Brooks I’d been even a week ago.
With Thanksgiving imminent, today felt like a last oasis before my personal world went completely nuts. Of course I wanted to share it with Gina. Why wouldn’t I? I wanted to share everything with her.
Including your bed.
“If I called in, someone would have to cover for me.”
“Yeah.” I shook the popcorn harder as it started to seriously pop. What else could I do? I knew she was right.
“Besides, you wouldn’t call in yourself, so how can you ask me to?”
“Privilege of the penis?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Your penis has no privilege or sway here. Sorry, pal.”
Didn’t I know it.
“But I still have some time before I have to go.” She moved beside me at the stove and grabbed the handle of the other popcorn container, giving it a good strong shake. “So, we can do whatever you wanted to do if I called in, just faster.”
There was no way I could censor myself. “I prefer nice and slow.”
She stopped shaking the popcorn and took a deep breath. “Is that how you made that baby upstairs?”
My fingers curved around the handle until my knuckles went white. “That’s always going to be between us.” My voice was quiet.
“It happened. You can’t wish it away.”
“I wouldn’t. I don’t want her not to be here.”
“Sure about that?”
The casual question stung, even if I probably deserved it. “Not knowing what to do doesn’t mean I regret having to do it. There are things I regret though. I wish I hadn’t hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt.” The bravado in her tone would’ve fooled a lot of people.
Just not me.
“I never want to hurt you,” I said anyway. “No matter what you think of me, you have to know that. I didn’t tell you about what happened because—”
“It didn’t matter. Yeah, I heard you the first time. Except it obviously did and does. And no matter how hard you pretend things are normal, they aren’t. You have to tell the people who matter. Who will want to help you through this, if you’ll just let them.”
“I know.” I shook the popcorn hard enough to get a cramp. “I’m going to tell them.”
“When exactly? When she’s ready for preschool?”
“This week. The holidays are coming up, and I can’t just go off places and leave her here.”
“Wow, you just leveled up in the parenting game, Brooks.” She rolled her eyes.
“I mean, I know that, and even if I had some secret sitter—”
“You definitely do not. You’re lucky you’ve had one this long.”
“I know. It’s just not feasible to keep hiding it, even if I still need to take that paternity test.”
Even if she wasn’t mine, I wasn’t prepared to turn her back over to her mother’s care. How could I, after the stunt she’d pulled? I didn’t even know where to find her.
Truthfully, that was the last thing I wanted to consider.
“Did you schedule the test yet?”
“No. I will soon.”
“There has been awful lot of ‘I’ll do it soon’ with you lately. You can’t put all of this off forever. Your life is different now.”
I waited for her to say hers had also changed, but that was just another way I was pretending. She was helping because she was my best friend. But that clock was ticking too.
I could only hang on to the past for so long before I took the necessary steps forward, and my new reality fully took root.
And I