14. Rune
Chapter Fourteen
Rune
L indsey followed me into my parents' house in the Hollywood Hills.
It was Saturday afternoon, two days after finding out I was pregnant.
I'd called Duncan that night, alone. I knew Lindsey's feelings on the subject: I was an idiot for pushing away a man who seemed to be one of the very few truly decent ones left in this world.
I just…there was no way forward. There was no point.
We'd had our fun, and it was over. Sure, there was chemistry.
Sure, there'd been a moment or two where I'd considered the notion of more with him. But reality had other plans.
For example, me being a single mom.
Nausea roiled my guts at that thought.
I heard my parents' voices in the kitchen and headed in there. They were finishing breakfast at the island, Mom scraping the last yogurt out of a container while Dad polished off his bacon.
Dad saw me. "Hey, kiddo! Not a word about the bacon. It's that turkey bullshit."
Dad had high cholesterol, and the doctor had recommended he reduce his bacon intake from absurd to merely inadvisable.
I held up my hands. "I wasn’t going to." I leaned into his side and hugged him with one arm, kissing his cheek. “Good to see you, Dad. Missed you."
He rubbed his beard against my cheek, as he'd done my whole life, eliciting a squeal from me as it always did. "Missed you too, Sweet-Pea." He searched my face and must have seen the heaviness somewhere in my features. "Uh-oh. This ain’t just a social call."
Mom tossed her spoon into the sink and threw away the yogurt cup, and then pulled me into a hug. "Hi, baby-girl."
Mom and Dad were polar opposites, physically and in just about every other way.
Dad was massive, six-foot-six and built like a tank even in his late fifties, with arms the size of my legs and thighs bigger than my waist. He had buzzed salt-and-pepper hair—I'd gotten my thick black hair from him—and a long, bushy salt-and-pepper beard.
He was rough but sweet, bluntly honest to a fault, and brutally sarcastic, especially with those he loved.
Mom, on the other hand, was tiny. Barely over five feet, trim and slender—although despite her diminutive build, she had a pretty decently sized peach, which she'd given me, along with the piercing blue eyes and a penchant for being violently independent.
She was soft-spoken, but don't let that fool you; she could pop off with a spicy attitude that even my brawny, Strongman-winning, BJJ-black belt dad was scared of.
She just did it in a sweet, quiet voice that she never, ever raised, even when she was tearing you a new asshole.
Being their child, I'd been…a handful…as a kid, and had been on the receiving end of her tongue-lashings quite frequently.
I wasn't afraid of their reactions—they loved me and would never push me away. But what child wants to deliver this news to their parents?
Not I, said the cat.
Mom and Dad both greeted Lindsey with hugs and kisses—Lindsey was basically family at this point. Her own parents were long divorced and lived several states away from each other, meaning she was alone in LA.
"So," Dad said. "Why the long face?"
I glared at him. "I'm in no mood for horse jokes, Dad," I muttered.
"I wasn't gonna make one, but thanks for galloping to conclusions."
I groaned. "You're the worst."
He set his plate in the sink and lumbered to the den, settled his bulk on the couch, and patted the cushion beside him. "Come sit, Sweet-Pea, and tell your ol' dad what's bothering you."
Mom and Lindsey followed me into the den, Mom sitting next to me, Lindsey in the easy chair across from us. "You brought Linz for support, so it must be serious."
"I…" I sighed, my eyes burning already. "I don't know where to start."
"What, did you get knocked up or something?" Dad asked, obviously joking. When I didn't answer, my eyes going wide and filling with tears, he sank back against the couch, letting out a long, slow breath. “Oh. I see."
Mom just stared at me for a moment. "Rune, really? You're serious?"
"Why would I joke about that?" I snapped.
Mom, uncharacteristically, let my snapping at her go. "We have questions, Rune."
I sighed. "I know. His name is Duncan. I met him in Alaska. He basically single-handedly saved Raquel and Hamish's wedding."
"Raquel's and Hamish's," Mom corrected automatically. "Sorry, sorry, habit." She knew I hated it when she nitpicked my grammar.
"We're…not together," I said. "And I've already told him. I also told him I don't expect anything from him."
Dad shot to his feet, shaking his head and rolling his massive shoulders.
"Why would you let the punk off the hook like that, Rune?
He knocked you up. He doesn't get to just scoot away, scot-free.
Also, I thought we taught you to always, always, use protection unless you were trying to have a baby with a man you loved. "
"He's not a punk, Dad." My voice shook, and I hated it, but it wouldn't solidify, no matter how hard I tried. "He's a good guy. We both messed up, not just him. We were drunk. I know it's no excuse, I just…it's what happened."
"Then why let him off the hook that easily?" he pressed, turning to look at me, hands laced on his head.
"He lives in fucking Alaska, Dad. What's he gonna do, fly down every weekend?"
"If he's any kind of man, yeah, if that's what it took."
"Dad, if you say one word about him marrying me, I'm out. I'm not doing that. I know you're all old school and whatever, but that's not happening."
Dad held up his hands. "Wasn't gonna—I know better. I may be old school, but I know that forcing two people who accidentally got pregnant to get married is a recipe for misery and divorce."
"Same thing," Mom muttered. Louder, to me, then. "Rune, I do agree with your father about letting this Duncan guy just skate away from his responsibilities."
"I doubt he's skating anywhere," I said, reluctantly. "He wasn’t exactly happy when I told him I wasn't asking him for anything and didn't want anything from him."
Mom and Dad traded looks, at this.
"Wait, wait, wait," Dad said. "Explain how this conversation went."
“It was super late, or early. Like four, I think. He works at a bar his family owns and closes most nights, so I knew he'd be up. And I…I told him." I sighed heavily, grimacing at the memory. "He had me on speaker and his mom was next to him."
"At four in the morning?” Mom asked, surprised.
I shrugged. "I dunno, I never met his parents. I guess they were talking. You'd have to ask him."
"I'd like to," Dad muttered. "But I've never met the guy."
"Thomas!" Mom scolded. “Quit muttering imprecations."
"I'll show you an imprecation," Dad growled.
"Guys," I grumbled. "Not the time."
Mom gestured at me. "Continue."
"I…there's not much else to say."
Lindsey chose that moment to utterly betray me. "He's in love with her."
My jaw dropped open and I stared at my now former best friend. " LINDSEY ! What the hell? You don't know that."
"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes at me. "You know it as well as I do. Or you would if you'd give the guy a fucking chance."
Dad sat down again. "Rune, the truth. Is there any chance that this guy actually does have feelings for you? Like, this wasn't just a one-night stand?"
“It wasn’t a one-night stand," I muttered. "I was in Ketchikan a week before the wedding. I met two of his uncles and a cousin. We spent a good bit of time together, actually."
"And?" Dad said, obviously not about to let me off the hook that easily.
I sighed, covering my face. "Yes, there's a good chance he has feelings of some sort."
"And what about you?" Mom asked. “You don't?"
"Oh, she does," Lindsey said, in yet another betrayal.
"She just refuses to admit it even to herself. Duncan is a great guy. And while I wasn’t there for that conversation," and here she glared at me, "I would wager dollars to donuts that our girl Rune here dropped the bomb on him that she was pregnant, told him she didn't want anything from him, and then hung up on him. And probably blocked him."
"We're not friends anymore, Lindsey Snelling,” I hissed. "Done. D-O-N-E. Done."
She just laughed. "You're just mad because you know I'm right, and I've been right from the beginning. My guess is Duncan Badd is pissed all the way off. I wouldn't be totally shocked if he just showed up here."
Ding…Dong.
Lindsey spluttered a laugh. "No! There's no fucking way. If that's him, I should get an award of some kind."
Dad rose to his feet. "I'll get it. We're not expecting anyone or any deliveries, so I don't know who it could be."
Trembling, I drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, refusing to look toward the door, even though I could see it from here.
I heard the latch click as Dad pressed it, and then the rattle of the storm door as the air pressure tugged it against the frame.
"Can I help you?" Dad's voice said.
"Uh, yes, sir. Is…is this the Rigby residence?" That voice.
No.
NO!
He's here ?
NOW?
I glared at Lindsey, feeling nearly homicidal at this point. "You did this!"
She held up her hands, eyes wide. "I didn't! I swear to god, Rune! I didn't call him, I didn't text him, email him, Snapchat, TikTok, nothing. I didn't contact him in any way, shape, or form, directly or indirectly. I swear to fucking god."
Mom frowned at me. "Well? Go greet him, Rune."
"Hell no." I shot to my feet and quite literally ran out of the house into the backyard, fully aware of how immature and childish I was being.