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Kieran: I’m not right now. But I’m about to go help a friend move.
Carter: What friend?
Kieran: You don’t know her.
Carter: It’s a her?
Kieran: Yeah.
Carter: Do you need another pair of hands?
Kieran: Are you really that hard up for something to do?
Carter: Told you I was bored.
Carter: Nobody’s ever around anymore.
It wasn’t always like this. It used to be that I could call Maya or Kieran or Steph and someone would want to hang out. But Maya and Steph were too occupied with their baby and Kieran was… wherever he was. Wrapped up in some mystery girl.
Kieran: Why don’t you go to the bar or something?
Carter: Doesn’t open for another hour.
Kieran: Download an app and find a date, then.
Carter: Nah. Not feeling it.
Kieran: Not sure what to tell you then, man.
Carter: Whatever. Have fun lugging boxes for some chick.
I didn’t bother waiting for a response. I checked out the window one more time for Zoe’s SUV to pull in, but it didn’t. Not that Zoe would want to see me anyway. I mean, she bolted out of here the other night like she was on fire. Which was fine. A huge blow to my ego, but fine. I didn’t know how we were going to act around each other the next time we met. But clearly that wasn’t happening today.
I couldn’t sit around anymore, so I did what any guy would do. I bought some snacks and a case of beer and headed over to Steph and Maya’s place. When I rang the doorbell, however, I was greeted by a screaming infant and her two scowling parents.
“Nice to see you all too,” I remarked.
“Carter, we’d just gotten Gaby to sleep and the doorbell woke her up,” Steph said. I noticed that her hair was a little wonky and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She had a little spit stain on her shirt.
“She’s been up all night,” Maya added, looking just as disheveled. Her black faux-hawk was normally gelled up into kind of a shark fin, but today it was flat.
“Sorry,” I told them. “But I brought provisions.”
“Carter, I…”
I didn’t let them try to talk me into going home. I let myself in and put the drinks and food onto the coffee table.
“How’s it holding up?” I asked.
“Itis ashe,” Maya said. “And she’s doing fine.”
“I don’t mean the baby. I mean the crib.”
Steph rolled her eyes and nodded for me to follow them into the nursery where the crib I’d built for baby Gaby was set up in the corner. She sat down in a rocking chair and tried to soothe the baby, but nothing seemed to work.
“Still passes the cantaloupe test,” Stephanie quipped.
“Good.”
