Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Nash smiles as people shake his hand and slap him on the back. No doubt congratulating him.
“My boys can swim!” he shouts, to the sound of much jubilation.
“Is he referring to his sperm?” asks Grandma.
I just nod. “It would seem so.”
“You could tell them you were wrong about being pregnant.”
“Hmm. Would that get us more gossip or less?” I ask.
“They seem to have accepted him as your significant other and he’s getting his taste at an ordinary life,” she says. “The question of generating more or less gossip feels obsolete. He’s just someone people pay attention to.”
“Yeah.”
And Grandma sighs again. “You’re staring at him again.”
“He is my baby daddy.”
Grandma snorts. I guess it’s where I get it from. “June, I would say I hope you know what you’re doing…”
“It’s a bit too late for that.”
“Audrey said you wanted to yell at me.” He appears beside me in the fruit and vegetable section at the supermarket on Main Street at around midday. “Was it about anything in particular?”
“How was Fermenting With Friends?”
“I’m proud to say I am now a fermentalist. We’re learning how to make kombucha.”
“Sounds fun,” I say, selecting apples. “I ran into Carter at the coffee shop. Seems there was a sizeable anonymous donation made to the library.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“And also to the local women’s shelter, the middle school, and an animal rescue, too.”
“Wow,” he says. “Someone must be a really great person. Just a wonderful, gracious, kind human.”
“You forgot humble and so civil-minded. I wonder who it could be?”
He sighs dramatically. “I doubt we’ll ever really know for sure. This is all very interesting, but how about you tell me what upset you?”
“They gave me decaf at the café earlier.”
“Right.”
“And now I can’t buy a bottle of wine,” I say. “Why did you have to bring babies into this?”
“Congratulations, you two!” Kelita from the post office gives us a wave as she walks past.
He winces. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Can I help with anything?”
I hand over the wire basket. “What am I supposed to do with the Volvo?”
“Keep it. Didn’t you say your car was acting up?”
“Yeah, but it’s a whole-ass luxury vehicle.”
“That is not something you should worry about. Bribing people with expensive presents is nothing to them,” he says. “They bought you one in the hope that you’d whisper sweet nothings about signing with them in my ear.”
“Apparently they’re working on a more family-friendly touring and recording schedule for you.”
He grunts. “Whatever. Do you think if we just stopped talking about our imaginary progeny people would forget?”
“I’ve started on some blankets,” shouts a middle-aged man from over by the baked goods. “They should be ready in plenty of time for the new arrivals!”
“Thanks, Wade.” Nash gives him a wave and then says to me, “Ignore that question.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“Knitting circle.”
“You knit?”
He shakes his head. “I was helping put away some of the chairs after the Fighting Book Bans meeting in the library and got invited. Did you know they have home-baked goods at those things?”
“Really?”
“Best thumbprint cookies ever. Don’t tell Audrey I said that though. She thinks hers are my favorite.”
“I’m glad you had a good day. The Fighting Book Bans group sounds interesting. Let me know when you’re going next time.”
“I thought you were only willing to leave the house for coffee, alcohol, or groceries.”
“Yeah. It might be time for me to expand on my range of experiences. This big, beautiful new life of yours is sort of inspiring me to go beyond, and dare to get out more.”
He smiles, and my knees go weak. “I’m glad to hear it. And I’m glad we’re friends.”
“Me too.” I smile back at him. “We should have a secret signal though. A sign for you to rescue and remove me from situations and conversations when I run out of steam.”
“That’s smart,” he says. “How about fake retching? You need to urgently go home and rest due to imaginary morning sickness.”
“Which brings us back to what I wanted to yell at you about earlier,” I say. “It’s going to eventually become obvious we’re not actually with child. And you’ve bought a house in town, which suggests you’re staying for a while. Share your future plans with me on this subject.”
“Bold of you to assume I know what I’m doing.”
“You have to have some idea.”
He groans. “I guess I do have one…”
“What?”
“Just off the top of my head.” He steps closer. “What if we had a bunch of sex and made some babies? Then we’d never have to tell anyone the truth. Brilliant, right?”
“Go find the fixings for a salad before I slap you.”
“How are your threats of violence such a turn on? It’s right up there with food on your gorgeous face. Makes me just want to fall at your feet and worship, you know?” He hesitates. “Hey, quick question, what do you put in a salad?”