My stomach doesn’t twist and turn at the thought. I just have gas or something. “Makes sense.”
“I overreacted to him buying the house next door.” She nods to herself. “He probably won’t turn up more than once every few years. Everything will be fine.”
Which is when a shiny, luxury midsize SUV comes to a stop outside the house. And it’s followed by a delivery truck. The big bow on the hood of the SUV is odd, to say the least. Not something you see outside of a car sales yard.
The driver of the SUV is a man in a pair of chinos and a polo shirt. He comes down the front garden path with a skip in his step. It matches the broad smile on his face. “June Callaway?”
“Yes?”
“No need to get up, miss. You keep on resting right there.” He hands me the car fob. “This Volvo is one of the safest vehicles on the road today, and we hope you drive many happy miles in it. We’ve already fitted the car seats in the back for you. They’re also top of the line and safety-wise, the best we could find for you.”
I don’t know what to say. So I say, “Wow. This is really not necessary.”
“Mr. Farmer insisted we make sure you have anything you might need,” says the man.
Grandma clears her throat. “How very kind of the record company.”
“Do you normally go around giving away cars?” I ask, bemused and bewildered. “Is that something you just generally do? Because it seems sort of huge to me.”
The man just smiles. Like my confusion at being gifted a luxury vehicle is silly or something. “Now where would you like us to put the furniture and other gifts for the nursery?” he asks.
My eyebrows are so very high. “There’s more?”
“I’ll open the garage for you,” says Grandma, taking charge. “The wonderful news about the babies isn’t widely known at present, and we’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“Of course, ma’am. Mr. Farmer is very excited, by the way. He looks forward to discussing more family-friendly plans for Mr. Porter’s future recording and touring schedule.”
“And we will be sure to pass that on to him when he returns,” says Grandma. “How about we get all of this out of sight and you on your way as soon as possible. Small-town gossip being what it is.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
This is wild. Imagine being able to afford to just give away a luxury vehicle. Nash and I also need to talk, because the twins are turning out to be an issue. The last thing I need is news of my fake pregnancy spreading around town.
I already told Rose and Carmen about my money and car woes at the bar that night. But we never specified what Nash did for work. We could say he has some money. He would need to be solvent to buy the house next door. Lying about your life to an entire town sure can get complicated quick.
The pounding of feet and chatter of conversation can be heard coming down the road. Then a familiar voice says, “What’s going on here?”
Shit.
A group of people stand gathered around the back of the delivery truck. There are about a dozen of them dressed in activewear. Nash is in his cargo shorts and sneakers. His need to walk around half naked should be addressed. It’s causing me ongoing sexual distress. Perhaps I could lodge a complaint at the next town meeting. Start a petition or something to make him wear a shirt. Though I doubt anyone would sign it.
Honestly, no wonder my hormones are so hung up on him. Fuck him for being so attractive. It’s also not helpful for himblending in and staying on the down low. Good to see him making friends and enjoying life, however.
The garage door is slowly sliding open when Grandma returns from inside the house with her own key fob. She takes one look at Nash and the jogging group, helping to unload baby gifts and nursery furniture, and sighs. There’s no way a dozen people can keep their mouths shut.
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.”
