Page 22 of Butterfly Effect

GABE FINCH

Bea

Aw, man. I wanted you to use her full government name!

Indi

THERE’S TIME YET FOR THAT, BEHRAZ

Sheena

The baby’s up from his nap, catch me up later

Indi

Which one? Akhil or the actual baby?

Sheena

Actual

Indi

Aw give him a big kiss for me!!

Indi

Back to business

Bea

If you were wondering, and I know you were, I’m now singing “Business Time” by Flight of the Conchords, and it’s gonna be stuck in my head for at least a week

Indi

ANSWER ME, FINCH

I’ll deal with that later. Dad’s voicemail awaits. The speakerphone icon lights up white when I press it.

“Hi, bala…”

My nose crinkles at the nickname.

“It’s me. So, uh…I was at the grocery store and saw your picture in one of those magazines they have out by the cashier. Looks like you had a good night.” A nervous laugh sounds on the line. “A hockey player, eh? I had no idea you were dating anyone. Thought you were done with athletes. Maybe you told me, and I forgot. Sorry about that.” He sighs. “Anyway, I’d love to meet the guy sometime. Bring him home some?—”

I tilt the phone away to pause his message and roll my eyes.

“Meet him?” I say to the air, turning towards the washroom for the much-needed Advil. “He’s fake, Dad.”

“I’m as real as it gets, Freckles.”

At the deep tone of his voice, my heart plummets to my ass, and I trip while rounding the mattress corner.

Wade Boehner catches me in the broad, square surface of his chest. Those rounded biceps strain under my palms, warm and firm, the skin smooth and taut and…no.

“Do you usually talk to yourself?”

“God damn it.” I escape his grip. “The hell? You followed me in here?”

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