I lean down. “Go take a bath. I’ll put all this away and make something to eat. Okay?” She nods but doesn’t say anything as walks off towards her room.
I set to work cleaning the place up and putting her things away. Opening the fridge, I pinch the bridge of my nose; this woman is going to be the death of me. She has some curdled milk, a tomato, and a rock-solid piece of cheese in there. Grabbing my phone, I fire off a quick message to my brothers.
Me
Guys, SOS. Lacey has no food in, she’s in the bath, so is anyone free to go grab some things for me please?
Arch
I can! I’m at the supermarche as we speak!
Arch
Wait! Is there anything she can’t have?
Me
Yeah, no deli meats, raw things stuff that she doesn’t eat anyway
Arch
Roger that, over and out
I laughed at his response. He is always so happy and carefree, a lot like Lacey. I used to wonder if they would hit it off, but they’re more like brother and sister.
I get to work tidying up the place and notice how chaotic everything is. Lacey has always been that way; her brain works too fast for everything else to catch up, meaning she’s always in a state of chaos. I'm just finishing washing the dishes when the doorbell sounds.
Opening the door, I see Archie standing there with bags in his hands. He takes one look at me, and his mouth opens, but I shake my head, cutting him off. “Don’t say a word.”
He looks like he’s about to burst but manages to keep quiet for exactly two seconds before he blurts out, “Wasn’t going to say anything, Cole. I happen to think pink marigolds are extremely manly.” Then he’s doubling over laughing like the child he is.
Why am I cursed with idiotic brothers?.
“Give me the bags, Arch.” I hold my hands out and he gives them to me. He starts looking over my shoulder for Lacey. “She’s still in the bath. I’ll tell her you said hello, but she’s tired.”
He starts to argue, but I close the door, shouting through it, “Bye, Arch.” Even through the closed door, I can hear him mumble something on the other side.
Taking off my pink marigolds, I start making a creamy pasta dish, one of Lacey’s favourites. Like a bloodhound, she follows the smell and finds her way into the kitchen area.
“Mm, that smells delicious, Cole. Is that the chicken and chorizo dish you made last time you were here?”
“It sure is.”
That sound she just made? That sound isn’t going to help me at all.
“Great, I’ll make us some drinks.” She grabs the glasses from the cupboard and throws in some ice.
I watch her work as she makes us both a drink, so at ease with me, and let my mind wander for a moment on what it would be like if I were the man beside her, making her meals, holding herhair back when she gets morning sickness, cuddling into her of a night, and telling her how cherished she is?
Then it hits me that she’s carrying another man’s child. Does she want him in her life? Does he know? Will they make a go of it?
I decide now is as good a time as any to find out, even if Iampetrified of her answer. “Lace?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to tell me who the baby's father is?”
Silence.
