Page 170 of Buy Back My Love

“You happy?”

“Very.”

“Get your shoes.”

Twenty minutes later, we were in Walmart for some damn oatmeal cream pies.

I had on black leggings, one of Van’s hoodies, and slides because I wasn’t dressing up to go buy oatmeal cream pies at night. Van had on sweats and a T-shirt, pushing the cart while I kept changing my mind about whether I wanted the regular box or the family size.

“The family size,” I said.

“You live by yourself.”

“And?”

“That’s a lot of oatmeal cream pies.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“That excuse got a lot of mileage.”

“It got three more months.”

He laughed and tossed the family-size box into the cart.

We were cutting through the baby aisle when somebody called, “Evander?”

Van stopped, and when I looked over, I recognized her immediately. It was his cousin from the estate sale, the one who had been pregnant then and asked me who did my lashes. Only now the stomach was gone, and there was a baby carrier sitting in the cart beside a couple cans of formula.

“Hey,” I said, smiling. “I remember you.”

She laughed. “I remember you too. Your lashes still look good.”

“Thank you.”

Van leaned against our cart. “What’s up, Skye?”

She hugged him, spoke to me again, then her eyes dropped to my stomach and stayed there just long enough for me to know exactly what she was thinking.

Van caught it too. “Don’t.”

Skye looked back at him. “I ain’t said nothing.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I laughed. “She definitely had a question.”

“See?” Van said, pointing at her.

Skye ignored him and looked at me instead. “How far along are you?”

“Six months.”

Her eyes slid right back to Van.

He shook his head. “Baby ain’t mine.”

I turned toward him. “Evander, she ain’t even ask that.”