Quietly closing the door behind me, I said to Travis, “Welp, we fed, watered, and put them to bed. I told you this couldn't be that hard.”
When I turned around to face him, I found him much closer than I had expected. Again, I inhaled his masculine scent, and wanted to lean into the warmth of his body. His hair was disheveled, and my hands itched to run through it.
“Move,” I barked, pushing my hands against his chest. Shock hit me overhow firm hischest was. I tried to move past him but ended up pressing my bodyentirely against him, trapping him against the stair railing.
My internal temperaturerose,andirritation flaredinside me.
Travisisa terrible lay.Why are youhavingfantasiesof him being mind-blowing inbed?What’swrongwith you?
I internally sighedfearingthe answer to that.
“Soyour bed is a queen?” Travis asked,rocking back and forth on his heels,hope tinging his words.
I shot him a dark glare. “It’s a full.AndI have nightterrors,so I flail andpunch in my sleep.”
He raised his hands in surrender before tromping down the stairs.While the kids had mac ‘n cheese, he’d cooked up some steaks and vegetables for us and putsome aside for my gran.
Only after he’d disappeared into the living room below did I let out the breath I’d been holding. “You can do this,” I muttered to myself. “Everything is going to be fine.”
I marched into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
I crept into what used to be mygrandma’s office. Her desk sat in the corner, a fat computermonitorfrom the nineties stuck out from the piles of papers that covered the surface of the desk. Presumably, akeyboard was under there somewhere.
A talloakbookshelfwas setnext tothe desk, packed with books. I slid into thesmall,worn-outreadingchaircovered in red poinsettiasthatwas pushed up againstthe shelves.Mycheeksperfectlysettled into the butt print thatIhadmolded into the cushion over time.
“Sorry I couldn’t come earlier, I got caught up.But I’m gladyou’reeating welltoday,” I said, looking at the half-eaten microwave dinner that stood on a tray next to the single bed pushed against the wall.Ignoring theshakinessI heard in my own voice, I applauded myself for buying themealswiththebiggersection forthe vegetables. That wasgood for him.
Gregory Smithsat on the bed staring at the window over the desk. The Order ofLuxishad scrambled his brains years ago, but he was my best friend’s dad and I couldn’t bring myself to take him back to the sanitarium. Besides,it was unlikely they wouldeventake him back sincethe attending nurse had been blown to bits in the crossfire betweenbattlingOrders.
I’d come to depend on our late-night visits. I couldn’t sleep much, and I didn’t drink anymore, so Istruggled to find a way to past the night hoursuntil I crept intoMr. Smith’sroom to find him sitting up on his bed like thisone night. In his current state, I could tell him anything and he never judged, tried to give me advice, or fix me.
Growing up,Mr. Smithhadalwaysbeen especiallynice to me. Most adults thought I was a terror, but he seemed to get me and didn’t mind when I “ran wild."
“A couple kids came around looking for Emma and Calan,” I said in a low voice. “Emma helped save them.” I snorted. “Not that we are surprised.”
Mr. Smithdidn’t look surprised one bit.
Shrugging my shoulders back, I said, “If she weren’t such a kickass friend, I might have been jealous. But that’s okay, I was always proud of her. She didn’t see it for the longest time, but I always felt in my bones she was destined to do great things.”
I wiped under my eye half expecting to find a tear there.Nope, dry as theSahara.
“Travis also had a hand in saving a little girl, if you can believe it.”
Mr. Smithdidn’t comment, just continued to stare out the window.
“I know, that was even before he tried to become a supernatural GI Joe. Totally out of character for him. But life is full of surprises, isn’t it?” My eyes dropped to his bare feetseton the scratched, worn out oak floor.I curled one leg under me and hugged the other to my chest.In one hand, I clutchedapen-sized object. “All kind of surprises,” I said quietly.
“This isn’t the first one,” I said, my voice feeling scratchy. “It’s the third. So, I think it’s time to admit defeat.”My grip tightened on the test. “I’m pregnant.”
The words were enough toblowme into bits, but the grenade was in my handin the shape of a stupid pink plus sign.
I was pregnant. Istillcouldn’t believe it.
A month and a half ago,I’d lost the stomach for alcohol which was my first hint something was wrong.Then when I skipped over Aunt Flo, I couldn’t put this off any longer.
Surprisingly, thenews didn’t bowlhimover.
I sighedand smacked the back end of the test against my leg. “Thanks for not freaking out on me. I think you’ll be the only one. Not that it matters. I’m not going to tell anyone, because there is no way I’m keeping it.”
