Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“You’re telling me,” Eric says, huffing. “Apparently, it’s this big meeting he’s got at work.”
“Hmm,” I say, hoping that’s all it is.
“What’s up? You know, apart from the baby cooking in your body?”
I laugh in delight. There’s something so relieving about hearing my little brother talk about the baby like that—like they’re real. I mean, of course, they are, but to have somebody else acknowledge it is so neat. Apart from Chrissy, that is. “That’s one way to phrase it. Are you okay with it?”
“You say you’re happy in the texts. He seems happy. Logan, I mean.”
“Oh, Eric. You really shouldn’t have snooped like that.”
“I won’t do it again,” he says. “I promise.”
“On anybody’s phone.”
“I promise. I swear.” He looks genuinely guilty. “The last text before that mentioned the baby… I was like, what the hell? That’s why I started scrolling, but I know it was wrong.”
“I’m sort of weirdly happy you did look,” I sigh heavily. “It’s been so hard keeping it to myself. I’ve been a chicken every step of the way.”
“You’ll get there,” Eric says. “It’s going to be awesome. I’ll be an uncle. Wait, that’s right, right? Or will I be a nephew?”
“An uncle,” I reply, laughing. “You’ll be the best uncle any kid could ever have.”
He beams, then frowns. “Why did you say hmm?”
“Huh?”
“When I said about Dad’s work meeting. You said hmm.”
“Nothing gets past you.”
“Is it about those guys?” Eric asks quietly.
“What guys?”
“Come on. You know, the ones when me and Jack were skating the box. That pickup truck. That hairy guy with tattoos. The one with the cowboy hat. Remember?”
I nod. “I was thinking the same thing. I thought you bought Dad’s thing about them being work friends.”
Eric scoffs. “Listen, Dad needs me to be happy, so he’s happy sometimes, okay? He works hard. I don’t want to stress him out, but I saw how scared he was. We both did.”
“Yeah, it was bad. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I know what’s going on,” Eric says, shooting to his feet and dancing across the room.
It’s like when we were really little, Eric toddling around, always making me laugh. “What are you doing?” I giggle.
Eric pretends to dance with somebody, ballroom dancing, spinning around the room. “What does it look like, huh? I’m celebrating. You’re going to be a mom! That’s ace, Emma. That’s awesome. I know you’ve always wanted it.”
I beam. “Come on, Eric.”
“Nah-uh. You have to get your boogie on, too.”
“Get your boogie on? Are you an old man at a wedding?”
“I am now.” He grins, spinning around the room. “Three cheers for my pregnant sister! Hip, hip, hoo…”
Eric suddenly stops. His hands drop to his sides. He stares at the door. I turn. How the heck didn’t I hear her? I was too caught up in Eric’s smile, silliness, and pride that I’m going to bring a baby into this world. It was a better reaction than I ever could’ve hoped for.
Mom stands in the open doorway. She’s got a pie in her hands. It’s almost comical how she drops it in slow motion. The pie falls to the floor while her mouth falls open. She doesn’t even attempt to clean up the mess, which is unusual for her.
There’s no way we can pretend we were talking about something else. With all that pregnancy talk, Eric might as well have shown her the pregnancy test.
“Uh, I thought you were at Karen’s,” Eric says a moment later.
Mom walks right over the apple pie, looks at Eric, then at me, then at Eric. Suddenly, her face gets serious. “Is it with him?” Mom scowls. “The man who’s cheating on his girlfriend? Has he even broken up with her yet?”
Eric gasps at me, probably wondering if I’m with Logan and this man with a girlfriend at the same time. Or if Logan’s got a girlfriend. The thought makes me completely sick. I have an instant, volatile reaction whenever I contemplate it, even for a second.
“Mom, it’s—”
“Complicated?” she says, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah.”
“Then you better explain,” she says sternly, turning around. I don’t know what to do. I can’t tell her about Logan, can I? Or maybe it’s time I stop running.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Logan
Michael’s office sits alone on a dusty road, a two-story structure. We parked on the other side of the road with thirty minutes until the meeting. I let my head fall back on the rest, glancing at the dash clock.
“When did it start?” I ask.
Michael picks at a loose thread on his pants and starts pulling. “Two years ago. They showed up one day and told me they were with the mob. For a month, I tried not to pay. Then, they started sabotaging my gear and vandalizing the office. Lately, the payments have become ridiculous. They’re bleeding me dry.”
I look at him, pushing Emma and our baby aside for now. Emma says I’m good at compartmentalizing. That was a word I never had cause to know until she used it. I create boxes in my head. Lock things away. Emma’s the only thing I can never completely ignore, not that I want to.