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"I'll make it up later. Better that than the alternative."
Jean raised her brows and shoulders. "Everyone needs to decide what's best for themselves. It's great that we've got options these days, right?"
"Right," I interjected.
"Absolutely," said Natasha. "But you don't want to be too set in your decision-making. That's where Isla went wrong. Their whole plan went out the window. Like someone had just tossed a grenade into their life."
A tinge of doubt crept into Jean's frown. Dammit.
"Not that I'm planning on having children anytime soon," said Natasha, shaking it off. "I've got other things I want to do with my life."
Again with that not-quite-right smile from Jean.
"Anyway," I said, leaning back against the counter. "Enough about babies. Why don't we talk about something--"
"Personally, I think drugs are your friend," said Andre, wiping sweat from his brow. Even the Elvis hairdo seemed to be wilting thanks to the heat from his polyester suit.
And honestly, I could hit something. How often did Jean have to put up with having everyone's opinion shoved down her throat?
"Drugs are not always your friend," I said. "This wisdom comes care of years of experience behind a bar. What kind of dumbass talk is that?"
"All right," he amended. "In some situations they are definitely your friend. I mean, babies are tiny. But still, when you think of where they have to exit..."
"Again with you not having a vagina or a clue."
Andre chuckled. "And you have these things?"
"Is the costume confusing you? How much have you had to drink exactly, man?"
"Relax, Eric," said Jean in a low voice, giving my hand a quick squeeze. "It's fine."
Andre gave me a look like "what the fuck is your problem." Idiot. A muscle in my jaw had started to tic, and my eyes could not possibly have been friendly in return. It's not easy to pull off an intimidating glare when you're dressed like Wednesday Addams, but I'm pretty sure I managed it.
"I'm going to get some fresh air," said Andre, grabbing his drink off the counter.
Natasha perked up. Her gaze might have flicked to Jean squeezing my hand. "I'll come too."
"Great."
Off they went together, Andre and my supposed date and yet another might-have-been future girlfriend. Terrific.
Meanwhile, Jean just looked at me.
Next she attempted a smile. "That was a little awkward."
"People and their fucking opinions," I grumbled. "I'm so sorry about that crap they said. Maybe I should go have a word with Andre."
"No, don't say anything. They didn't mean any harm. And it's not your fault." She sighed, short fingernails tapping a hectic beat against her side. "Really, you don't need to defend me. I'm fine."
"I know, but--"
"I'm fine."
"But--"
"Eric."
Okay, so she didn't want me to try and fix it. Anything I said at this point would probably be wrong, so I drank my beer. And Nell said I never learned anything.
"I can be a bit of a control freak, so what?" She shrugged. "No one thinks it's weird to be meticulous about your finances, but invest time and energy into seriously planning the delivery of your child--one of the biggest events in your life--and people think you're crazy."
I kept my mouth shut.
"If they'd really bothered me, though, I'd have shut it down or walked away. But at least they weren't rude about it," she said, staring off at nothing. "Anyway, it kind of comes with the territory. You know, I've had complete strangers stop me at the grocery store to lecture me about things or try to feel up my bump."
"Jesus."
"I realize most people don't mean any harm. But even so." She shook her head. "I don't know what it is about pregnancy that makes everyone lose their minds and think they need to get involved. Well, not everyone. Some people."
I frowned, highly pissed off on her behalf.
"But Andre and Natasha were just..."
"Speaking out of their asses?"
She snorted. "A little. Maybe. Yeah."
"Don't know why the concept of you making up your own mind about things is so damn hard," I said. "Idiots."
Jean ducked her head, but not fast enough to hide a grin.
What a win, I'd made her smile! Immediately, my shoulders started relaxing, the anger easing back. Around us the party kept on keeping on, music blaring and people chatting. Given that I hadn't come tonight with any expectation of hooking up with anyone, I hadn't lost anything. Though Natasha was a nice-looking woman. I couldn't help wondering what she'd have been like in bed. Bossy, probably. Which could be fun for a while.
"Why don't you go talk to her?" asked Jean.
"Hmm?"
"Natasha. Go talk to her," she repeated. "You know, before Andre and I came over, you two looked cozy."
"Nuh. I'm good right here."
She cocked her head, eyes amused. "What, you're going to waste the party hanging with the grumpy, hugely pregnant female all night?"
"Yeah, I am. If she'll let me."
"Seriously?" Little lines appeared between her brows. "I can go chat with Nell. Because I'm warning you, watching me knock back juices in between running to the bathroom to deal with my thimble-sized bladder is going to get boring."
"Boring? You kidding me? We just nearly got into a knockdown fight," I said, wiping imaginary sweat off my brow. "God knows what could happen next. If someone gets in your way when you're rushing to go pee, there'll be rock and roll wrestling in the hallway or something."
"Yes, I can totally see that happening."
"My money's on you, of course."
"Damn right it is." She cradled her belly with one hand. "You're a good friend and a good man, Eric Collins."
"Uh ... I don't know about that." I tugged on one of my braids, then winced. "You haven't been in town long."
"Shut up. I'm paying you a compliment."
"Yeah. Okay." Maybe she was right. I had been pretty restrained when it came to thinking R-rated thoughts about the woman. Guess that was sort of a start on my path to manly betterment? I don't know.
"Anyway," she said. "Don't argue with me. I'm pregnant, I know things. Mostly about leaking bodily fluids and strange internal happenings. But I know other things as well."
"Whatever you say." I tapped my beer against her glass of juice. The faint curl of her lips held all
of its usual appeal. Christ, if only she wasn't knocked up. And if I'd wished for that once, I'd wished for it a hundred times. "Happy Halloween, Jean."
"Happy Halloween, Eric."
CHAPTER SIX
It was about twelve o'clock on a Wednesday night, a few weeks after Halloween. I finished locking up the Dive Bar. With Nell off sick with a bad cold, I'd had a busy couple of days. I stayed back to catch up on the inventory and a few other jobs. Having the place all to myself sometimes was good. The bar had its own feel after closing time, with only the quiet shadows and the glimmering steel to keep me company. But I'd run out of tasks, and was facing up to the short walk home and the nightly battle to get some sleep. I didn't know what was wrong with my head lately.
Maybe I'd wind up watching late-night TV with Jean or something.
After Halloween, I'd given up avoiding the woman. Especially since her pacing the hallway and my recent insomnia often seemed to happen around the same time. A few nights now we'd wound up chatting or even hanging out for a while. Though the last time it'd happened, she'd made me chamomile tea. And it tasted like shit.
I smiled at the memory, humming a tune. A bit of Bowie, because Bowie was king despite being from England. As I switched off the last of the lights, the bar area still gleamed in the low light, polished and ready for tomorrow.
Snow drifted down as it had been doing on and off for the last week or so. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, hunching down to protect myself against the cold. Keys jangled, hitting the pavement. Someone standing down the street a little started swearing up a storm.
"Jean, that you?"
Bundled up in gloves, scarf, woolen hat, and a thick jacket, she stood beside her SUV, glaring at the offending key fob lying on the ground. With her belly plus all of that padding, her chances of easily retrieving it had to be nil to none.
"Let me." I jogged over and picked them up, handing them back to her.
"Thank you."
"Everything okay?"
Her face looked pale and drawn in the street lighting, her hand rubbing at her lower back. "Yeah."
"Yeah as in no?"
She started to smile, then winced. "I've had this pain in my back all day and it's getting worse. Think I might go get checked out just in case."
My blood turned to ice.
"Don't freak," she chided. "It's probably nothing."
"If it was nothing, you wouldn't look so worried and you sure as hell wouldn't be out here at this time of night."
"It's too early for it to be anything. I've still got over three weeks to go."
