Page 13 of Salty Pickle

Me: Yeah, but it’s not a work thing.

Rhett: Lay it on me.

Me: Remember that woman I met at the Castle on New Year’s?

Rhett: Silver dress? Country girl vibes?

Me: She hitchhiked from Colorado to New York to find me.

Rhett: What!

Me: With a goat.

Rhett: Holy shit. Why?

Me: She’s eight months pregnant.

Rhett: Oh, damn.

Me: Exactly.

Rhett: You do a paternity test?

Me: She wants to wait until the baby is born.

Rhett: Are you having her stay with you?

Me: Not a chance. Devin’s looking for a place.

Rhett: Damn.

Me: I feel blindsided.

Rhett: Where is she now?

Me: Sleeping in my office.

Rhett: She seem… okay? Not… you know.

Me: Off her rocker?

Rhett: I watched Baby Reindeer.

Me: No, not like that.

Rhett: What are you going to do?

How to answer that? I was hoping he would have a suggestion.

There’s a tap at my door.

Me: Someone’s here. Later.

Rather than call out and wake Lucy, I hurry to the door and open it.

A young woman stands outside, two blankets stacked on a box.

My instinct is to grab them from her and walk away, but I force myself to smile. I speak in a low voice. “Thank you…” Shit. I already forgot her name.

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