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She’s shot a small smile in return.
“And now that we are on the subject of people not being in people’s houses-”
“Terrible segue,” I mutter prior to pulling up the schedule for those on duty after me.
“-has Blue’s Clues come home yet?” Her frame leans to one side to force me to meet her stare again. “Has he even tried?”
Unconsciously rubbing the spot where I got my blood drawn earlier is done in tandem with answering, “He’s…asked.”
“And you’ve said no.”
“I’ve said I’m working around the clock and most likely won’t be there between shifts.”
“I.E. you’re sleeping on your office couch for three nights.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I can’t even work on that piece of cardboard for twenty-five minutes without needing to see my massage therapist.”
“Your spine is weak.”
“And your stubbornness is strong.” We share in a small set of laughs before she proceeds. “With you being preggers – congrats again to me for becoming an aunt – the absolute last fucking place you need to be sleeping is on a shit couch.”
“Did you really just congratulate yourself instead of me? Me who doesn’t know for sure sure that she’s actually pregnant?”
“You do know. You just want paperwork verification to begin overplanning this next phase of your life.”
Cripes, I hate how accurate she is.
“That is one of those things I actually like about my future brother-in-law.”
Her referencing of him in that way doesn’t go un glared at.
“He’s flexible, and I’m not just talking about that tongue, thumb thing he does in the bedroom. He’s done a great job of reminding you how to be flexible off the clock, which is something you’re going to need with a baby. From my understanding, they’re a lot like these transplants you deal with. The calendar and the weather don’t mean dick to them.”
Dropping my elbow onto the desk occurs first with my open palm receiving a cheek flop into it next.
“How do you feel about all this?” She folds her fingertips together in her lap on a concerned expression. “Like are you…okay with it? Are you excited? You still just processing? I mean the half-thought-out text your ass sent me this morning – which damn near had me break my phone at the nail salon – gave off ‘shock and confused’ vibes rather than ‘let’s go shopping for maternity clothes’ ones.”
A tiny wince escapes. “Sorry about that.”
“Eh, it’s all good. That tiny Asian chick was like fucking Superwoman with those reflexes.” Her expression transposes to one that’s mirth filled. “Don’t worry. I tipped her extra.” She waits until I’m smiling again to press on. “Putting aside the pissed off girlfriend feelings that you are justified to have…how do you feel about the whole thing?”
“Excited?” It’s impossible not to word vomit everything I’ve been holding inside for the last few days to the one person that’s always been around to listen. “Maybe a little scared? I mean isn’t everyone scared when they do something new and different? But like good scared. And bad nervous that all the talk from Tate about wanting a family was just one of those good in theory things for him yet something he’s far from ready for in reality. You know, he’s so young, and-”
“He’s not that young, Harper.”
Being cut off completely catches me by surprise.
“He didn’t just turn eighteen. You weren’t patrolling the bus stop waiting to trap a kid who graduates in a week. He’s younger than you in numbers but right on par for most other shit. Hell, he’s twice the man some men are at twice his age. Does he have his childish shit he needs to grow up through? Yes. But look me in the face and tell me about a person who doesn’t.”
The corner of my bottom lip is briefly met by my teeth.
“Even you still have shit you’re working through. You don’t think it’s hard for him to deal with all of your super miss independent, I don’t need anyone ever because I’ve been alone for so long, bullshit?”
Her accusation wrinkles my forehead.
“Daniel was very much so the main problem in your marriage, but your inability to really let people in was an issue, too.”
