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Nate stays with me and doesn’t leave until his afternoon shift at the coffee shop.
I don’t necessarily need someone to look after me, but it feels good.
He stays while I file my story with the newspaper, watching a game on TV. He occasionally putters around the kitchen to make more tea from the box of stale chamomile tea bags, clucking about stocking my pantry with better tea and decaf coffee.
Nate is rubbing my feet when Jessica calls, who’s been tasked with copy-editing my story.
“Are you feeling any better? You looked like a ghost,” Jessica says.
“I’m much better, thanks.”
“Do you need anything?”
I smile shyly at Nate and say into the phone, “You’re sweet, but I’m all taken care of.” This gets my feet a tender squeeze from Nate’s hands.
“If you need anything, let me know. Ginger ale, crackers,” Jessica says, going down the list of things one usually shoves at a person suffering from a stomach bug. Ugh. I’ll have to tell her.
The only question is, do I tell her now, over the phone? Or tell everyone in person at the staff meeting tomorrow?
Jessica and I are friends, and she’s been so kind to me.
“I have something to tell you. Nobody else knows. Well, nobody except Nate Jones.”
“The barista from Bean There?”
“Yes.”
“Marissa at the front desk told me he stopped in to check on you,” Jessica informs me.
“He told me he did that. He was worried because I’m usually punctual about my coffee, but today I didn’t stop in, so…now both you and he know I’m pregnant.”
She gasps. “What? Congratulations! I mean…is it congratulations? Or…”
“It is. It’s going to be great. Hopefully. Eventually. It’s huge. Overwhelming.”
I hear a quiet shriek, quickly followed by, “Can I organize the baby shower? Please?”
I laugh. “Of course you can.”
Jessica pauses, and I can hear her investigative wheels turning. “Does anyone else know?”
“Other than my ex? No.”
“Interesting that the first person in town you spill the beans to is the coffee man. Pun intended.”
“Sorry. I was going to tell everyone at the staff meeting tomorrow, but Nate came over to check on me and brought soup,” I say.
“Oh my gosh.”
“What?”
“I knew that guy had a crush on you.” She says this so loud that I’m sure Nate can hear this through the phone. “You know he’s the son of that guy who owns the huge resort up in the mountains, don’t you?”
“Hmm, no. I didn’t know that.” Interesting. Now that I know that, I’ll bet I could find a dozen articles about Nate’s family in theDailyarchives. Not that I would go looking. Probably.
I look over at Nate, whose eyes are fixed on the game. His ears are red, though. Adorable.
“Did you?” I ask, fighting the smile in my voice.
