“I don’t know, Lins. I live in a six-hundred-square-foot apartment! There’s no room for a baby.”
That wasn’t entirely true, I supposed. There were technically two bedrooms, the second one just doubled as a home gym and office. But where would I go with all of that? Sure, I could get rid of the gym equipment and workout at work, but I still needed space to create my clients’ routines and their meal plans. Plus, there was only one bathroom—a small one at that—and I couldn’t imagine trying to do a kid’s bathtime in there. The kitchen, which was actually quite large, and was one of the major selling points for me, was a downside in this scenario. I couldn’t house a baby in the kitchen, and I couldn’t store any of the hundreds of things it would need in the kitchen either.
The expression on Linnea’s face told me she was mentally going through the layout of my small apartment, as if a door leading to another five hundred square feet would magically appear in the blueprints.
“Plus, I have no idea who the father is!” I could feel the hysteria in me rising.
“How veryMamma Miaof you.“ She smiled, and futilely chased the drips with her tongue.
I elbowed her in the arm. “I’m serious!”
She laughed. “I know you are.” She was quiet for a while, her smile fading ever so slightly, but not in a saddened way. “But, Darcy, do youwantthe baby?”
I shot her a hopeless glare. Had she not been paying attention to the whole conversation we’d been having? I had no idea what I was going to do.
“Stop.” She grabbed my elbow with her free hand, and brought us to a stop outside the pet shop. “Before you go all bitch mode on me, I’ve been listening to you, but everything you’re saying is an excuse as to why youcan’thave it. You haven’t said that you don’twantto. So, I’ll ask again. Do youwantto have the baby?”
Well, when she put it like that, it somehow made answering that much harder.
I turned my head away from her, needing a minute to gather my thoughts, and looked at the squirming mass of tiny puppies in the window. They didn’t usually have live animals aside from fish and hamsters, maybe a guinea pig or two, but occasionally the local shelter would get an influx that put them over capacity, and they’d come here. Especially if there were puppies.
Their tails were wagging so fast it seemed impossible that they didn’t fly right off, and their little noses left wet streaks on the shop’s window as they pawed at the glass, trying to jockey for the best position. There were two in the corner, curled up in balls dreaming peacefully, their tiny tummies rising and falling softly amidst all the chaos of their siblings. I wanted all of them. I’d always loved dogs—all animals really—but these puppies were turning my heart into a puddle, much like Linnea’s ice cream.
“Darse?” Linnea gently prodded, still waiting for an answer to her question.
I took a bite of my ice cream, scraping the bottom of the cup for it, and began walking away from the puppies. If I stayed there too much longer, I’d adopt one, and I wasn’t allowed pets in my apartment. “I can’t make that decision right now. It’s been a long day, but, Lins . . . I can’t have a baby and not know who the dad is.”
Her voice was more chipper than it had been. Linnea had always been good with problem-solving, as long as she knew the starting point. “Okay, so we figure out who the dad is. You said you’re eleven weeks? Who did you sleep with approximately two months ago?”
I groaned. “No one good.”
She rolled her eyes, pinning me with a glare. “I don’t care about how they were in bed. We just need to know who they were.”
“Well, let’s see. Option one is Liam, who got engaged three weeks ago, according to his Instagram. So, yeah, there’s that.”
Linnea grimaced. “Okay, we’ll circle back to that in a second. Option two? How many options are there, by the way?” I narrowed my eyes at her and she held her hands up, half-eaten cone and all. “I’m not judging, I only wanted to know how much worse they’re going to get if that was your starting point.”
“There’s only two, and option two is . . .” I trailed off, immediately regretting all of my life choices. So really, it was a regular Tuesday.
“Who? An axe murder? A felon? Someone who puts milk in their bowl before the cereal?”
“Archer Mack.” My voice was barely a whisper, but she’d heard me loud and clear—her face said it all.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Darse.”
FOUR
DARCY
Approximately two months ago
I watched from the bar as Shayna hustled a couple of guys playing darts in the back. The end-of-summer tourist crowd had found themselves at The Crooked Quill, which meant instead of the eight regular Saturday night patrons, there were eighteen. The two Shayna had lured into her trap were most definitely tourists, because if they were from around here, they’d know that no one could beat her at darts. No one.
Other than my sister, Linnea, Shayna was the closest thing I had to a best friend. We’d met when I first contracted with the gym I offered personal training services at. She’d been there for about a year when I started, and despite the fact that I’d been determined to keep to myself and do my own thing, she managed to become an integral part of the very small circle ofpeople I cared for. My first week there, she walked up to a guy who was using the power rack as a place to lean and scroll on his phone, and said,“You’re not nearly big enough to be taking that many photos of yourself. Either use the equipment or go use the mirrors in the locker room.”I loved her instantly. Not only was he hogging equipment, but he was also one of the overly dramatic grunters we all hated. She simply said what we had all been thinking.
Two and a half years later, our friendship flourished under a belief that the day didn’t start until caffeine had been had, and that if you were going to poison your body with Coca-Cola, it should have Jack in it. We spent almost every weekend together either bar hopping and dancing until we had to abandon our heels, or watching sad romance movies that made us cry, while eating Twizzlers.
Where Linnea kept me balanced, and tried to imbue me with her high-on-life outlook, Shayna indulged in the things that would have my sweet sister gasping and running away blushing. They were the metaphorical angel and devil manifested in physical forms, and I needed them both in different ways.
