Page 59 of Who's Your Daddy?

10. Peter

The shrill sound ofmy ringing phone yanks me from my sleep. With a tired groan, I grab it from the nightstand, flipping over from my stomach to my back to see who’s calling.

“Fuck,” I groan, focusing on the name on my screen. It’s a video call from Scott. What does he want? It’s barely seven o’clock on a Tuesday morning. Why would he think I’d be up?

“Pete!” he yells as soon as I answer.

I don’t know what he’s been popping, but he’s too energetic for this time of morning. “Scott...what in God’s name are you doing calling me at this hour?”

“Hang on. Let me get Dyl on this call.”

Dylan joins the call a few seconds later. As expected, he’s already dressed and ready for the day. “Hey, Scott.”

“What’s up, Dyl?”

“Why are you calling so early?”

“So, I wanted to know if you guys are free today and tomorrow.”

“I’m unemployed,” I reply, squinting at the screen because it’s too bright for my tired eyes. “I’m always free.”

“I could spare a few hours. What do you need, Scott?”

“Well...I’m sorta getting married tomorrow, and I wanted you guys to be there.”

That slaps me awake. “What?!”

“What?” Dylan is more shocked than me. “To whom exactly?”

“Cat. Duh! Who else would I marry?” Scott says, as if the answer is obvious. It isn’t. Cat left three weeks ago, right after Dylan’s wedding. When did she come back? When did they get back together? What happened to her boyfriend?

I’m still reeling from this information. “What?!”

“What? When did she get back?”

“She crept into my apartment at three this morning,” Scott explains. “We talked. She asked me to marry her. I said yes.”

If this conversation had happened a month ago, I would’ve told him to stop and think about it. It’s an impulsive decision and he shouldn’t rush into it. But I’ve recently learned that one cannot be talked out of stupid, impulsive decisions. I asked a woman I only knew for three days to move in with me, got her pregnant, then asked her to move in with me again. Stupid, impulsive decisions are now a core part of my existence.

“Well, I’m in,” I say. “But why are you asking for today and tomorrow?”

“Do you guys remember when Cat and I were planning our wedding the first time, and I had that thing I wanted to do?”

Dylan groans. “That’s hard manual labor, Scott.”

“Tough shit,” Scott snaps. “Do you remember what Pete and I had to do for you?”

Dylan has obviously forgotten about his corny proposal, which also entailed some hard manual labor.

“We stole a fucking horse for you, Dylan,” I remind him.

“It wasn’t a real horse, and we put it back right after.”

“That’s not the point,” Scott retorts. “The point is, we helped you and you owe me.”

He relents with a humph of annoyance. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Me too.”

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