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The words sound trite but what else can I say?
“T-t-thank you.”
Tears well in her eyes. To hell with not pulling her into my arms. I wrap an arm around her waist and draw her toward me until she’s cradled on my lap. She shoves her face in my shoulder and her body quakes as she cries.
I rub my hands up and down her back as I whisper nonsensical words to her. “I’m here. You’re not alone. You don’t have to do this alone.”
She whips her head up and glares at me as she swipes the back of her hand under her eyes. “Of course, I have to do this alone. I have to do everything alone. It’s my destiny.”
She tries to climb off of my lap, but I dig my fingers into her hips to keep her where she is. “What the hell? Your destiny?”
“Forget what I said.”
I growl. “I’m not forgetting any of the bullshit you just spouted.”
Her eyes narrow. “It’s not bullshit. And it’s none of your fucking business.”
“You’re my friend.” I nearly choke on the word friend. I don’t want to be her friend. I want to be more. Much, much more. “Of course, it’s my business.”
“Now is not the time to discuss this.”
Fuck. She’s right. Minutes after she found out she’s the guardian of a two-month-old baby is not the time for a serious discussion about her past. But I also know she’s never going to willingly discuss this with me. She could give a master class at avoiding revealing private information.
I kiss her forehead before releasing her and helping her settle in the passenger seat. “Buckle up.”
I switch on the engine and drive out of the alley. I glance in the rearview mirror and notice the rear door of the brewery flies open before the gossip gals pile out. We’re just in the nick of time.
We reach the town limits before Harmony speaks. “Do you smell something?”
I sniff. “I smell beer.”
Pfft.
“Did the…” Harmony coughs. “Did the baby let out the loudest fart ever?”
Pfffft.
I chuckle. “That one sounded louder.”
Harmony twists to look back at the baby. Her eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
“What? Do I need to stop?”
“I meant shit as in literal shit.”
I pull over to the side of the road and glance over my shoulder.
“Holy crap.”
Brownish-greenish liquid leaks out of the bottom of the onesie the baby’s wearing onto the car seat.
“What do we do?” Harmony asks.
“You’re asking me?”
I have no experience with babies. Three of my brothers are younger than me but – considering how close we are in age – I wasn’t ever involved with their child care. Miller, as my twin, is barely an hour younger than me. My other two younger brothers, the twins Riley and Brody, were born when we were two. I could hardly help change their diapers when I was shitting in diapers myself.
“Oh no! It’s leaking from the car seat onto the truck’s backseat.”
