It’s only a minute or two, tops, before a knock at the door snaps me awake, my cheek still pressed to Yosh’s thigh.
“Who’s that? Fuck I don’t want to see anyone.”
Yosh grins. “Who do you think?”
I shoot up.
Effy.No. She can’t see me like this.
The scared part of me wants to hide, crawl back into Yosh’s lap like a lazy lasagna cat, but I need to be responsible. I can't let her standing in the cold again—literally this time.
“What do I do?”
“Well, open the damn door for her!”
“Oh yeah, of course.”
I get up, fixing my hair on the way to the front door. Behind me, I hear Yosh calling me an idiot.
I open the door, Effy stands there shivering in the cold. She’s wearing nothing but a knitted cardigan in this sub-zero temperature.
“Come in quickly, girl. Where’s your coat!?”
“Joan fell asleep in my bed. I didn’t want to wake her by opening my closet.”
She waves at Yosh before hugging her arms around herself.
“Sit down, dear, I’ll fetch you a blanket.”
What’s happening to me? Suddenly I feel things I haven’t felt in a long, long time. I catch my reflection in the mirror, slapping my cheek.
Come on, Tom, pull yourself together. Act like an adult. It’s time to take responsibility and do exactly that: be a goddamn father for once.
In the bedroom, I grab a fleece plaid from the cup board.
Effy’s already on the couch. Yosh is in the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove.
“Are you okay?” Yosh calls from the kitchen.
“I’m feeling warmer already. Thanks. The baby didn’t freeze either.”
I look down, my fingers tapping together.
“About that…congratulations, by the way.”
“By the way?” she repeats, mocking me.
Yosh returns with three steaming mugs. Tropical fruit tea, by the smell of it. Maybe he chose it to comfort me with a taste of home.
“Sorry. I’m an idiot, I know.”
Effy stays silent for a moment, then gives a small nod. Confirmation received:I’m an idiot. Good start.
“It’s a girl.”
“Oh really? Wow, a little girl! Congratulations!” Yosh’s enthusiasm fills the room, and it makes me feel like I don’t stand a chance. Like, how can I possibly compete with that? No matter what I say, i’ll never sound as genuine or happy as he does.
“That’s nice. Really. I’m happy for you.”
