“Oh, no,” I say quickly. “I’m sure I will. Now that I’m outnumbered, I don’t know how I could survive without her, even with her teasing me to death,” I tell him truthfully, immediately regretting my loose tongue, in case I’ve offended him.
Sherman makes a short noise of understanding. “As much as she likes to tease and poke fun at all of us, she’s always been great with kids. She’ll make a wonderful mother when she finds someone she wants to settle down with.” Sherman clicks his tongue and tilts his head. “Hopefully, sooner rather than later, you know, since I’m not getting any younger.” He pauses for a beat, and when I have nothing to say to that, since I very much donotwant to think of Autumn settling down with someone and starting a family, he hums again. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure Autumn is wondering where you are.”
There’s an odd sinking sensation in my stomach that Ihave to shake off when Sherman claps my shoulder and moves to the side, no longer blocking the hall.
“Did you get it?” Autumn asks as soon as I step into our office.
“Uh, no. My cards were declined. I have to call the bank back to find out why.”
“Just great, BigDawg,” Autumn says, throwing her hands up and letting them fall. “If you can’t afford another pill, how the hell can you afford your half of another baby?”
“I can afford it. All of it.” As if I’d make her pay half of anything, let alone our child. “I paid for the nails and that shopping spree with Josephine, didn’t I?”
Autumn rolls her eyes when she pulls out her phone, and I get a notification that she’s sent back the money I’d transferred to her last night.
“I don’t need that.” I send it right back.
“Seems like you do,” she says, pinching her lips, transferring the money once more before she gets to work on her laptop.
It’s a frustrating forty-five minutes later that I finally get a hold of a bank representative, who tells me my cards were locked and transferred to new accounts due to “suspected fraudulent activity” after I’d used them while in another state.
“Can my life get any harder?” I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes at my desk. It’s going to take a week or so for my new cards to arrive in the mail. “Don’t answer that,” I say quickly to Autumn, knowing what a brat I sound like. I have my family, a stable career that pays exceptionally well, and a safe home for my children. That’s all that matters. I slump back into my chair with a defeated sigh and look up, an icy tendril snaking down my spine. “Autumn?”
She chews the inside of her cheek, sitting stock-still, staring out the window.
“Autumn,” I say again, a rock sinking lower in my gut.
She finally moves, swiveling her chair, and jerks her purse from the drawer in her desk. “I’ll get it,” she says without looking at me, striding to the door, which bangs shut behind her before I can so much as take a breath.
Chapter Thirteen
Autumn
Inside the tiny restroom at the corner pharmacy, my hands shake as I rip open the pill’s packaging. I suck back a yelp when I nick the fleshy bit between my thumb and index finger on the hard plastic edge that is as sharp as a knife, and I dance around on my feet until the pain passes and my vision stops swimming.
Bringing the bottle of water I purchased to my lips, I drop the pill on my tongue and…and I don’t want to swallow it. Standing beneath the flickering yellow fluorescent lighting, I’m shocked by my reflection in the mirror, whose edges are rotting and desilvered with time and humidity. I look as worn out and dingy as it does.
Forest won’t have to worry about me making his life any harder.With that thought, I force myself to chug half the bottle of water in one go, choking and coughing some up and out into the sink when it nearly goes down the wrong tube. Suddenly, I go flying back when the door swings open, slamming againstmy shoulder.
“Sorry!” a woman yells when she speeds past me, crashes to her knees in the accessibility stall, and pukes her guts up between heaving sobs.
“Bailey?” I rub the back of my head, having cracked it against the deteriorating tiled wall, and I stumble into the stall.
“It’s not fair,” Bailey whines before she heaves again. Forgetting the pain in my hand and head, I bend over Bailey and gather her mid-length hair away from her face. “Shayla never had morning sickness.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, rubbing her back.
“And it’s never just the mornings! It’s all d—” She lurches forward, gripping the edge of the public toilet bowl. Gross.
I hum and continue to rub her back until she’s finished, then help her stand on trembling legs where she towers above me, as always. Already blessed to be five-foot-eight, she still wears the most ridiculous high heels that are even taller than mine. Granted, her husband does top out at six-foot-five, so she still has to crane her neck when they kiss, but not as much.
Bailey swigs and spits out the rest of the water from my bottle. After we’ve washed our hands for a good five minutes each, I wet a paper towel and blot the back of her neck.
“Thanks,” she says, still trying to catch her breath. Something snags her attention when she starts to turn, and she lifts the jagged plastic packaging, her brows lifting to her hairline. “When did you start having sex?”
“I—”
“Was it with Forest? Oooh, tell me it was with Forest.” She cackles. “Dad will be so pissed when he finds out.”
