Page 23 of In the Works

SARAH

I scooped up piles of kids'clothes as I ran from one end of the house to the other.

“Why did I offer tonight? This place is a fucking disaster.” Rubbing my forehead, I checked the time. With just a few minutes to go, I needed to find a way to make it seem like I wasn’t living in constant squalor.

I was about to ask myself why I thought Bri would care when the front door rang.

“Shit.” I muttered.

Throwing open the entryway closet, I tossed the clothes on the floor and slammed the door shut.

I stood next to the door, fixing my flyaways in the mirror and taking a deep breath. With a nod at my harried reflection, I swung open the door to a smiling Brianne Shaw. “Hi there.”

“Hello,” she ducked her head, almost looking bashful.Why did that sheepish grin make my stomach turn?

Swallowing my nerves, I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and stepped to the side, gesturing for her to enter. “Come on in.”

As she walked in, Bri looked around curiously. It was a pretty generic house for an interior designer: a McMansion built justbefore the 2008 financial crisis, just like every other house on the block. It was also one of the only places Jason and I could afford when we first found out I was pregnant.

“It’s beautiful.” Bri hugged me as she came inside, her earthy scent strong under the smell of fresh body soap.

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. But it works, and it’s fairly kid-proof.”

Smiling at me, Bri nodded. “And that’s a beautiful thing.”

Not wanting her to see my blush, I walked her through the house toward the kitchen where steaming boxes of pizza waited for us. “I’m so sorry for the mess.”

“Sarah, please. I saw your room in your parents’ house. This is a vast improvement.” Bri couldn’t hold back her hardy laugh. Licking her lips, she walked up to the pizza boxes and lifted the lids.

I watched her face closely, trying to sense if I’d picked something she’d like.

Rubbing her hands together, Bri smirked. “This is quite the selection, Sarah. Two pies, four types.”

I walked closer to her and peeked inside. “I never get to order fun flavors because the kids always want cheese and pepperoni. So I just kind of committed.”

“I love it.” Bri turned to look at me, our faces just a few inches apart as the steam from the boxes rose around us.

Nervous about what would come next, I grabbed a plate and handed it to Bri more roughly than I meant to. “Help yourself.”

She broke our eye contact and happily dished out a couple slices. She picked one veggie slice and one buffalo chicken to start, rinsing her hands in the kitchen sink before taking her plate over to the table.

As I started to dish my own slices, Bri turned back to look at me. “Where should we sit?”

I smiled. “Living room. The dining table is weirdly sticky no matter how many times I wipe it.”

“I guess that’s what kids are for.” Bri chuckled as she set her plate down on the mid century modern coffee table.

Pulling apart the cheesy pizza, I took a slice of buffalo chicken and an absolutely loaded sausage and pepper. My mouth watered at the sight. I could barely take my eyes off the steaming hot food to navigate toward the living room.

Bri was stationed on the floor, her legs spread out under the coffee table. Like a well-mannered country girl, she hadn’t touched her plate.

“You didn’t have to wait.” I teased as I slipped onto the floor next to her.

Bri shrugged. “When was the last time someone waited for you?”

The question made my chest hurt. The answer was even worse. Honestly… I couldn’t remember. And to be fair, since the divorce, I didn’t bother making the kids wait for me. There was always too much to do and not enough time.

“A while.” I finally managed.

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