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“What are you doing here?” She sniffles into my hair.
I laugh lightly. “Wow. Are youthathappy to see me? Or is something else going on here?”
Still gripping the salad, I awkwardly hug her and Layla doesn’t let go. Nor does she laugh with me. All she does is cry.
I have to admit that it feels nice to be wanted, but I get the feeling that this is more than just an enthusiastic welcome home from my bestie.
Frowning, I pull back so I can see her face—and so we don’t squish the wiggling baby between us.
“Hey,hey. What’s wrong?” I ask her.
Layla wipes at her eyes as she tries to pull herself together. “It’s nothing. I’m just emotional. Hormones, you know? Post-baby hormones.”
I don’t buy that for a second. I usher her into the living room, setting down my salad on the coffee table and taking Baby Sky from her arms. I haven’t gotten enough baby snuggles from him lately. Plus, I’m a little afraid that Layla’s forgotten that she’s even carrying him.
As we settle on the couch, I glance around. If I thought the front yard was bad, inside is even messier. There are baby bottles. Dirty clothes everywhere. Takeout bags. Empty beer cans.I spy a dirty diaper rolled up and stuffed in between the couch cushions.
My heart cracks. Layla is struggling, clearly. And I hate it.
While she’s wiping at her eyes with her shirt, I discreetly pick up some trash, stuffing a few things into a big takeout bag that I’ll drop into the dumpster later.
“Okay,” I say, reaching over and patting her knee. “Spill it. What’s really going on?”
She blows out a heavy breath. “Me and Ansel had a huge fight last night.”
When she says that I flinch. Because if she’s calling Razor by his government name, I justknowhe fucked up.
“He left. He didn’t come back. And I don’t think he’s going to be coming back at all.” As she speaks, Layla struggles to keep her voice steady.
“Oh, hun. A fight about what?”
She hesitates.
“Layla. What did he do?” I ask slowly.
“There were text messages on his phone,” she breathes out, embarrassment in her voice.
“Text messages?” My eyebrow goes up.
Layla bites her lip. “From Janet.”
I can’t help my outburst. “Are you serious?! Janet?! That dog. I can’t fucking believe this!” The baby startles in my arms. I lean over and kiss his soft head, silently apologizing for the bad words he doesn’t even understand yet. But if he knew what was going on, I’m sure he’d be using some colorful language, too. Considering that his good-for-nothing daddy can’t seem to let go of his ex-girlfriend.
Layla is shaking her head. “I should have known this would happen.”
“No. Nuh-uh. Don’t go there. You don’t deserve this. You’ve been so great to him. And now you two have a baby together.”
My bestie doesn’t seem to be listening to me. “I know work’s been stressful for him. And he’s been drinking more. He’s not himself right now.” She sounds like she’s reading off a script she’s practiced a thousand times in her head. She just carries on and on and on, making excuses for that rat bastard.
I wrap my empty arm around her when she breaks down again, and I keep my arm around her while she cries. There is a whole lot I’d like to say about Razor, the no-good bum, but I bite my tongue. For now anyway.
I feel guilty for being away when life hasn’t been the easiest for Layla.But I feel a tiny bit better knowing that my brother, Archer, lives just up the road from here. He’s been keeping an eye on her for me and giving me the occasional status update. He sure as hell didn’t tell me she was struggling likethisthough.
At some point, the baby falls asleep in the crook of my arm—the arm I can no longer feel. Together, Layla and I tiptoe to the small nursery and I gently place Baby Sky into the wooden, second-hand crib. Then, I steer my bestie into the kitchen.
I make my girl sit down at the table and put her feet up while I dish out big plates of salad and whip us up some lemonade.I have a feeling she’s not taking care of herself as well as she should. It’s been all about the baby since the moment Sky was born.
“God, I didn’t know how much I needed this. Thanks for being a good friend,” Layla says around a big mouthful of veggies.
