Chapter 17 Harriet
SEVENTEEN
HARRIET
After the bizarre breakfast-dinner with Warren, exhaustion hits me from all angles. Talia spots how tired I am and leaves me to it. I’d only end up repeating myself three times anyway, so the girls will have to wait until we’re together tomorrow for a rundown.
It was only after scrubbing the day from my face that I realized I was still wearing his jacket.
Harriet: You forgot your jacket.
Warren: Keep it. You’re halfway to owning a full suit.
The button-up shirt he gave me after Oktoberfest hangs in my closet, reminding me of the easygoing interactions at the fair, the antithesis to the stoic, stiff man who sat across from me in the diner.
The second my head hits the pillow, sleep finds me. The feel of Warren’s warm hands on my neck plays a leading role in my dreams. Far from ideal.
I spend the next day replaying every single one of Warren’s words and reactions, searching for any hint that letting him in was a mistake, and come up short.
The man was a walking ball of anxiety, but he was also deeply apologetic and accountable.
Beyond that, he was intent on being there for me and the baby.
Afternoon bleeds into evening, and then it’s time to face the cavalry, who have impatiently blown up my phone all day.
Talia is having us all over for dinner. The four of us try to do this as often as possible. With Talia and Parker working late nights and Margot needing a babysitter, finding a date is challenging.
My ass barely hits the chair before I’m bombarded with a slew of questions and forced to relay every miniscule detail. Ten minutes later, three stunned women stare at me from around the dining table.
“I’m sorry, rewind. He held your hair while you vomited?” Margot gawks. “That’s strangely sweet.”
Parker, ever the cynic, scoffs. “Are we forgetting he lied about his job and walked out when you told him the news? He needs to do a lot more groveling before all is forgiven.”
Talia swirls her wineglass around, the ruby liquid close to sloshing over the edge. “Do we like him or not?”
“Not,” Parker barks as I say, “We don’t hate him.”
“It’s crazy how you bumped into each other. What are the chances?” Margot adds. “Do you know why he lied about his job?”
I pop a plain tortilla chip in my mouth before responding, jealous of the spicy enchiladas the girls are eating. They smell delicious, but I’m not chancing anything.
“He said discussing his job with strangers makes him uncomfortable. I’ve moved past it, and my only concern now is the future and the part he plays.”
Noting the skepticism in my voice, Talia nudges me with her elbow. “You don’t think he’s going to stick around?”
“I don’t know him well enough to make an assumption.” Suddenly feeling overheated, I push away from the table and fan myself with a napkin. “I made it clear he’s either in or out—no in between. I’m not explaining to my child in ten years’ time why Daddy isn’t in their life.”
Parker grins at me proudly. “Good girl. You’re the one in charge. Everything needs to be on your terms.”
I digest her words and find it unlikely Warren will try any games or drag me through a custody battle. Unlikely, but not impossible, because at the end of the day, we’re strangers who happened to spend one night together.
“Are you attracted to him?” Our heads whip in Margot’s direction.
“What? No. Of course not.” A bald-faced lie. “Why would you ask that?”
“You’re about to spend a lot of time together, sharing intimate moments and potentially some difficult conversations. I’m not judging you if you are, but the last thing you want is to overcomplicate an already complex relationship with”—her eyes dart left and right—“sex.”
Parker snorts. “Okay, prude. Willow isn’t around, and I’m sure she knows what sex is.
” She turns to me. “Warren would be lucky to get a crumb of your attention, and while I rarely agree with Mother Theresa, she’s right.
Not to say you shouldn’t see to your needs.
Let me get you a discount code for a new vibe. ”
I barely hear Parker’s recommendations for a Clit Stimulator 2.0 as their words sink in. They’re right. If this is going to work, expectations need to be set and boundaries need to be drawn. Yes, he’s attractive, and he once found me so; the evidence is causing my bras to go up a cup size.
“This union is purely platonic.” It has to be. “He was married before, and from the sound of it, a relationship isn’t on his bingo card.”
“Crazy ex?” Talia asks.
“Maybe, or a messy divorce. I didn’t ask him to clarify.” Snatching up another chip, I wave it in the air, addressing them all. “Do you think it’s strange he didn’t want a copy of the scan? I said he could keep it, but he handed it back to me.”
Parker and Talia wear matching scowls and keep quiet. It’s Margot who offers advice. “I wouldn’t look too much into it. He’d just found out he’s going to be a dad. He was probably shell-shocked and wasn’t thinking straight.”
She always tries to see the best in people, and I decide to give Warren the benefit of the doubt.
Margot checks the time on her phone and winces. “Sorry to do this. I need to get home to relieve the sitter.”
Parker pokes me lightly in the belly. “Are you driving baby mama home? It’s past her bedtime.”
“Har. Har.” I slap her hand away. “I fell asleep before seven p.m. once.”
She deadpans. “We were at work.”
“Irrelevant.”
After accepting the leftovers from Talia, we say goodbye and climb into Margot’s car.
I’m close to all of my friends for different reasons.
Parker was the first person I met in town, got me a job at the distillery, and isn’t afraid to show her claws.
Talia is my voice of reason, no nonsense, and would go to the ends of the Earth to help her loved ones.
Margot is my gentle, caring friend, and as a mom herself, she’s the one I’ve turned to for advice recently.
Pregnancy can be lonely, especially with my sister halfway across the country, so having her answering all my random and grotesque questions calms my anxious thoughts.
Point proven when she reaches over the console and squeezes my hand. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Stunned but okay.” I slump into the heated seat. “My brain needs a few days to reboot before I talk to Warren again. My brother-in-law has a great co-parenting relationship with his daughter’s mom, and I want to replicate that. They were never together either.”
“That’s a really great mindset to have, Harry.”
I sigh. “How long were you with Willow’s dad?”
Margot’s hands clench around the steering wheel as she squints through the windshield. I chastise myself. She hates talking about her ex, and I’m certain he did a number on her.
“He was around but not present.” She throws me a wobbly smile. “That won’t happen with Warren. The stars said so.”
“The stars?”
“Yes. I read your horoscope, and it mentioned new beginnings and trusting your gut. You’re a Libra too, so you’ll always seek harmony.”
Margot is perfect, except for her infatuation with astrology, crystals, and tarot. Not my thing.
“Layman’s terms: I’m a people pleaser.” I fix her with a look, and she rolls her eyes.
“Warren is hard to read. I’m not sure how involved he wants to be or even how to manage a co-parenting relationship.
He seemed grossly uncomfortable—nothing like the man at the fair—and something tells me he won’t be the one to initiate any bonding sessions.
I’ll go insane if we’re cordial and only see each other during ante-natal appointments. I’m not built like that.”
She nods in agreement as the car slows to a stop at a red light. “You value genuine connections, so…why don’t you try being friends?”
“Friends?”
“Yeah. You’ve got roughly six months to get to know each other—and then the rest of your lives. It would make this a lot easier if you got along.”
I roll her advice around my head until we pull up outside my apartment. As I’m unclipping my seat belt, Margot grips my forearm. “Not to alarm you, but a hooded figure just dropped a parcel outside your door.”
I look through the passenger window and catch sight of a tall man before they disappear around the corner, leaving a large cardboard box on my doorstep. “Weird. I haven’t ordered anything.”
“Should I call the cops?” Worry lines her forehead.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” I climb out, and Margot glues herself to my back as I stroll toward the mysterious package. Nothing ticks when I kick it lightly. “It’s probably from my sister.”
“Or anthrax,” she whispers ominously.
“Okay, you need to lay off the conspiracy documentaries. No one is plotting my demise. But to be on the safe side, I think you should stay with me while I open it.”
Margot reluctantly follows me upstairs, where I place the package on my coffee table. Neither of us makes a move.
“It’s addressed to you,” she hisses and nudges me forward.
With one eye closed, I peel off the packing tape and open the box, revealing the far from lethal contents.
“It’s cereal. Like, a lot of it.” I laugh as I hold up two family-sized boxes of Cheerios. “I knew it was from Johanna. She’s teased me for weeks about my cravings.”
“Oh, she’s a good sister.” Margot beams and unfolds the greeting card. “Um, Harry, this isn’t from Johanna.”
I already have a fistful of cereal halfway to my mouth. “Who’s it from?”
She flips the card around, and the mini hoops drop to the floor.
This is a monthly subscription for cereal. Let me know if your cravings change.
Next delivery is in January.
Warren.
Thus adds another complicated layer to my baby daddy.