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Katie says her name should be Everest, like her favoritePaw Patrolcharacter.
Maren says she just hopes the recovery from surgery won’t be too bad.
Tuck gets teary-eyed again when he talks about the tiny onesies he packed for the hospital.
And Dad—Dad’s smiling so big and laughing so hard through all of this that he sheds tears left and right. I’m sure they’re combination tears. Happy and sad. Just like mine.
But when he meets my eyes, all I can see is this bright, beautiful joy.
The kind of joy I hope he feels hanging out with my family one day too.
ten
. . .
Abel
Phallus-y Type Things
I callJoe on the way home from work to check in. He says he’s doing okay and that he’s excited for tomorrow. He invites me over for dinner; Lady is making chicken pot pie from scratch.
It’s a shitty feeling to not only turn him down, but also to lie about why I’m doing it. I have to, though, because I have a date tonight.
The valley girls greet me the second I walk in the door at quarter to seven.
Smiling, I toss my shit onto the hall table and lean down to pick up Tai, then Cher.
I laugh when they poke their noses at my chin and lick my face. Their tails go wild on my back.
“Y’all lovin’ up on me like this makes me thinkI’mPaul Rudd.” Cher rests her head on my chest. “Aw, look, honey, you agree, don’t you?”
Small dogs usually don’t do it for me. But Cher and Tai are really fucking cute. Running my fingers up their silky necks, I realize my house smells different.
Smells like Jen. Her perfume.
The air feels different too. It’s buzzing. Anticipation? Good vibes? Bad ones?
Setting the dogs down, I try not to think about it. They follow me as I head upstairs to grab a shower. I notice the door to the primary bedroom is open. Jen not home yet?
Peeking my head inside, I see that the bathroom door is closed. A second later, a blow-dryer comes on. My pulse skips a beat at the idea of Jen getting ready for me.
For a kinda-sorta date. Haven’t been on one of those in forever.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take girls out. But those are the kind of get-togethers that don’t include dinner. Orgasms all around, sure. But no real conversation. No real connection.
Things that are too fucking easy to find with my best friend’s baby sister.
Speaking of Tuck, I called him today and wished him luck. I told him I’d bring over some food when they were home from the hospital at some point this weekend, depending on how Maren and the baby are doing. I bought extra at Foster’s and stocked my freezer, so I’ve got plenty.
It was strange shooting the shit with Tuck, knowing all the while that his sister slept in my bed last night.
Now here I am, peeking my head into said bedroom. The one where Jen’s currently living with her adorable wiener dogs.
It’s a mind-fuck of the first degree.
Tequila. I need it.
I’m about to turn around and go when I notice the drawer of the bedside table is open. Not thinking, I step inside the room to close it.
