“You’re sick.” He pushed away from me and then wheeled me to the entrance.
“Sorry, sir,” he said to a man pushing out a grocery cart full of food, “I’m wondering if you can help us out. My daughter is sick, and I have to take her to the emergency room, but we don’t have any money.”
Over and over, all day long, he stopped people. It went from “She’s not feeling well” to “She needs emergency surgery” to “She doesn’t have long to go, and we just want to take her to Disney.” I don’t know how much they collected that day, but I knew that it was enough for him to smile as he took me to the park.
I was running to the swings when one of the women who had given my father money that day saw me. When she confronted him, he told her to fuck off, right there in the middle of the park with children around. He then marched over and grabbed me by my arm, pulling me away before I even reached the swings.
That was only the first time he scammed people by using me. He kept doing it over and over, for years, until no one believed him anymore.
The memory vanishes when I hear the chair in front of me being pulled out. “Everleigh is going to bring me my coffee,” he says, intertwining his fingers on the table. My heart is beating so hard in my chest, it’s echoing in my ears.
“How is Sierra?” I ask, not ready to just jump into the conversation, in case Everleigh is going to come over. The last thing I need is gossip to spread.
“She woke up sometime during the night.” He sighs in relief.
“That’s good news,” I say as I catch sight of Everleigh walking to us, holding a tray in her hand.
“Hey, you two,” Everleigh says. “I know you said you didn’t want anything to eat.” She puts three plates on the table. “But I know you have a twelve-hour shift coming up, so anything you don’t eat I can wrap up.”
“Oh no.” The back of my neck starts to heat up as I calculate how much this is going to cost me. “Everleigh . . .” I try not to let my panic fill my voice.
“It’s fine,” she states, and quickly walks away from the table.
“She refused to let me pay for any of this.” Theo motions to the table. “We have to take at least a bite out of something, or else it’s rude.”
“That’s nice. You don’t want to be rude to someone who brings you a piece of pie, but you are more than okay with being rude to someone who you slept with?” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I close my eyes. Opening them back up, I see his face has gone pale. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”
“Collins,” he starts to say, eyes wide but not looking at me. I can already hear the letdown talk he is planning. The question is, how long do I let him go on before I say I don’t want anything from him, but I’m having his baby?
“Okay, you don’t need to say whatever it is you were thinking of,” I start. I reach for the glass of peach tea, my mouth suddenly drier than a desert on a July day. The sweetness hits my tongue right away. “I’m sorry,” I repeat as I put the glass down.
He grabs the cup of coffee he ordered and brings it to his lips. “I was going to say I sort of deserved that.”
“Sort of?” I sit back. “What do you mean, sort of? You literally took off while I was sleeping.” He looks down. “It really doesn’t matter anymore. It happened and it’s over.”
“Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I owe you an apology. What I did was not right.”
I scratch the side of my head. “Which part?”
“I’m—” he starts and then stops. “Are you saying you regret sleeping with me?” His voice has gone really low.
“Um.” I hesitate and laugh nervously. His face turns ashen white, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. “It was a wake-up call, that’s for sure.” I tap the table nervously with my finger. “Anyway, I wanted to meet you here because I wanted to talk to you.”
“I don’t regret that night,” he rushes out. “I, for one, really enjoyed myself.” His head tilts to the side, a twinkle in his eye.
The bell on top of the door rings, and two ladies walk in. I recognize them. They are in charge of the library in town. One of them looks over at me and smiles as she holds up her hand to wave hello; the other turns her head. Fifty percent is better than zero percent.
“Are you okay?” Theo asks, and my attention turns back to him.
“Yeah.” I suddenly want to get this over with so I can get out of here and get on with my day. “It’s—” I shake my head. He doesn’t get to know me. “Okay, so you wanted to see me, wanted me to tell you there are no hard feelings between the two of us,” I say quickly before I chicken out, “and that what happened with us was a onetime thing.”
“No.” I stare into his eyes and tilt my head to the side. I’m sure the look on my face is, Let’s be real with each other, so he caves. “Well, yes. But?—”
“Listen, Theo,” I start, and then look around to make sure no one is looking at us or can hear us. The only ones nearby are the two librarians, but they’re engrossed in conversation.
The doorbell rings again, and this time it’s Brock coming back in with his daughter, Sage. I’m expecting him to just motion at me with his chin, as if to say hi, but instead, he starts walking toward us. I inwardly groan, nervous that Brock is going to say something that will have Theo thinking the worst of me before I can tell him I’m carrying his child. It’s one thing to have a baby with a stranger, it’s another when she’s the town pariah.
“Hey, Collins, how’s it going?” Brock pulls out a chair and sits down, which shocks me. He’s never sat down with me before.
