19. Willa #2
“Eh. Not everyone …” he says quietly. The concern on his face shoots unease through me, but I glance away when the swinging kitchen doors bang against the wall.
Harvey Morales stands with his hands on his hips, bald head gleaming with sweat.
Thick gray chest hair tufts out around the stretched neck of his white T-shirt.
A salt-and-pepper beard covers his tanned face, and he looks like a gruff pirate with his squinted eye.
He stalks toward us with a determined limp, a low growl rumbling from his chest when he settles across the counter from us.
His hardened gaze lands on me, then a toothy grin slides across his lips.
“Well, well, look what the turkey dragged in…
“It’s a cat, Harv,” I tease.
“Yeah, yeah…” He plucks a pen from behind his ear and positions his palm like an order pad. “Lucky for you, I popped some cheese sticks in the fryer just now… Interested?”
“Is that even a real question?” I laugh. “How’d you know I was in town?”
“I saw you creep into Sammy’s place when I opened this morning. Knew you’d harass me for fried cheese sooner or later.” He jots on his hand, then leans against the counter. “How’s my favorite former student?”
Trevor juggles a quizzical look between us, and I laugh again.
“I used to keep the books for Harv in exchange for photography lessons.” My explanation only deepens the furrow between Trevor’s eyes, but he says nothing.
Why’s he so quiet today ? “My parents nixed photography classes in high school, so I found a way to do it under the table.” I shrug and turn back to Harv. “This is Trevor.”
“ Oh ?” He lilts, reaching a meaty palm across the bar top to shake Trevor’s hand. “A strapping suitor?”
“Just a friend,” I assure him .
“Well, just a friend …” he says to Trevor. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m alright, thanks.” He flashes a polite grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. Weird .
“Alright.” Harv slides to the drink dispenser, fills a couple of glasses with water, and sets them in front of us. “Gimme a few minutes. And don’t you think about pulling out your wallet, Willa. It’s on the house.” He turns on his heel and pushes through the swinging doors.
“Bad business model!” I call, smiling at his boisterous laugh muffled by the wall. We used to battle over his business losses daily. As I turn toward Trevor to finish explaining how our barter worked in high school, the brooding shadow over his face catches me off guard. “Everything okay?”
His eyes are glued to his fingers as they tap the bar top. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Wha—are you mad at me or something?”
“Not mad. Frustrated.”
“With me ?” I scoff. Clearly Mom has got her hooks into him if he’s already blaming me for ruining today. “What the hell did I do? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Exactly. You disappeared, Gem. Turned off your phone and didn’t tell anyone where you were.”
“I’ve told you before, you’re not my handler.”
He grumbles under his breath, dragging his palm down his face, spine rigid.
I’ve never seen him like this. Nodding slowly, his hand settles over his mouth like he’s physically stopping himself from saying something rash.
After a deep breath, he drops his hand and turns to me, voice calm.
“I didn’t know if you were sick again. Or hurt. Worse. I’ve been worried all morning.”
Duh . The baby . I swear these hormones are making me stupid, and now I feel like a bitch.
Of course he’d be worried about the baby.
Having him—anyone—in the picture is still an adjustment, but since we’re doing this together, taking him into consideration needs to start immediately.
“Hey…” I place my hand on his forearm. “I know I need to be better about keeping you in the loop with the baby. But everything’s oka?—”
“Not just the baby, Willa. You . I’ve been worried about you all morning.”
Oh . “Why?”
“Because you’ve mentioned how much you hate it here. How horrible it was for you.”
Aw , shit . Now I feel like a super bitch. I didn’t even think about it when I left this morning. Staying away is how I cope when I come home. No one’s ever had a problem with it until now. That the father of my child might be concerned about my well-being never even crossed my mind.
“Hot cheese!” Harv bursts through the doors right as I open my mouth to apologize. Trevor drops his gaze and turns back to the bar as Harv sets the mozzarella sticks down. “It’s good seeing you, Willa. The game’s back on, so I’ll leave you to handle these. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“No stranger than you.” I fake a smile as he squeezes my hand.
He disappears into the kitchen, leaving Trevor and I in awkward silence.
After several minutes, I whisper, “I’m sorry, Trev.
” I swing my legs around to face him, waiting until his eyes meet mine to finish.
“You’re right. I should have told you I was leaving. ”
“I’m not trying to control what you do or who you’re with. Your business is yours alone. But it would be nice to know you’re okay.”
“Okay. I can do that… I’m just not used to people caring, I guess. But I can do better.”
“Thank you.” With a smirk, he steals a mozzarella stick. “Now let’s see what’s so special about these that pissing your mom off on Thanksgiving is worth it.”
“Oh God, what did she say now?” I roll my eyes, but giggle at the deepening smile on his face. There he is .
“Very colorful language for eight in the morning.”
“I’m sure it’ll come full circle when I break the news. ”
“ We .” He taps my foot with his. “When we break the news… Have you thought about when you want to do it?”
I don’t want to do it at all. But I think having him participate in the conversation will only make things worse. “After dinner tonight. I’m hoping the pie lessens the blow,” I tease. “But let me handle it. It’ll be best coming from only me.”
“Willa…”
“It’ll be best that way. Please, just trust me.” I can’t help the grimace that pinches my face. I’m not even sure I believe myself at this point.
He slips a hand on my shoulder, giving it a little shake. “It’ll all be okay.”
I sure fucking hope so .