Page 105 of Salty Pickle

Summer: Oh, right. Well, you should. They’re grandparents! They’ll help!

Me: I haven’t talked to them in years. They scare me.

Summer: They were always so nice, though.

April: They sold her BeeBee’s farm.

Summer: Can you forgive them? They have that huge plot of land, and it would be perfect for Matilda. Then you and Court can figure things out without all this pressure of the baby’s birth and the goat’s birth and the apartment. If he’s still a salty bastard, you can collect the child support and send the kid to New York for a week every summer.

April: And come to France!

Summer: Or live it up in Vegas.

I will do none of those things, especially calling my parents.

Me: Thanks for the pep talk. I just want to sleep until the baby comes.

April: That sounds like depression, girl.

Summer: Baby blues.

April: We’re worried about you.

Me: I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. You know that.

Summer: We used to know it. But now you’re in a big city where you only know a salty bastard, and you’re having his baby.

April: Salty B has money, doesn’t he? Will he use it against you?

I go still. They’re right. He clearly does. He lives here, plus he didn’t blink at all the things we’ve bought.

Could he try to take the baby after the test?

Maybe I don’t want to do the test.

Maybe I need to figure this thing out without him.

Me: I’ll think about all this. I’m feeling overloaded. Talk soon.

April: Keep us informed, baby girl.

Summer: Let us know if we need to bring a bat.

I click off my phone screen and bury my face in the softly scented pillow.

Why did I ever come here?

Now I’m stuck.

32

COURT

The glossy floor squeaks as I pivot to duck around Matt, who makes a wild jab at stealing the basketball as I drive toward the goal.

I spin to avoid my cousin Jason, who’s blocking the guard to clear my path.

But the giant form of Caleb is too much for me to get around, so I make a quick bounce pass to Jason and let him sink the two-pointer.

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