Page 59 of This Means War

“Right, let’s get down to business,” Elliot answers. “Lydia and I were about to start talking about your childhood together. She mentioned that—”

“You lived next door, and we played together all the time,” I interject quickly.

Elliot shoots me a perplexed look, and I attempt to telepathically tell him to zip his lips. Obviously it doesn’t work, since the next words out of his mouth make me want to hide under the covers.

“I was going to say she mentioned that she was in love with you as a kid.”

“Right,” words tumble out of me unhelpfully, “but I mean, I was a kid. Cole was my brother’s best friend. He was over at our house all the time. It just makes sense that I would have developed a crush on him. Now I’m an adult and–”

This time Cole cuts me off, “I think what Lydia is trying to say is that what we have together now, as two adults, is far more meaningful than even what we had as kids. We’re building a family and a life together. We may not have had the most auspicious start, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have an amazing future together. Furthermore, the accusations on Deb’s Deets that Lydia came after me for my money are completely outlandish. If anything, I was the one who pursued her.” Cole looks down at me, and I wish with all my heart that the emotion I see shining in his eyes was real and not something orchestrated for the benefit of Holland’s voting populace. “And if you need more proof than my words,” he adds, “I can show you allthe checks towards the mortgage she tried to write me when she first moved in.” He lets out a chuckle. “She was determined to contribute financially to our household. Those are not the actions of someone who is with a guy just for his money.”

I flush, remembering those checks. Cole never cashed them, which is good considering that I currently have no income.

“Anyone who believed for even a second that Lydia would go after a guy for his money hasn’t met her,” Elliot offers. “I once saw her dump the entire contents of her wallet into a homeless man’s collection bin. She’s naturally generous.”

“To be fair, my wallet usually only has about ten dollars in it,” I begin, but neither one hears me as Cole speaks again.

“When we were kids, she used to have lemonade stands and give half her earnings to the Humane Society.”

“Well, puppies are cute,” I put in, feeling self-conscious about all of their compliments. Again, they ignore me.

“The first week she started at Faith, she busted her butt to get scholarships for the two girls who wanted to do track and field but couldn’t afford it,” Elliot announces.

“Once she begged her mom to pay for her friend to go on the fifth-grade campout, because her friend’s parents couldn’t afford it,” Cole shoots back. “She offered to clean the bathrooms all summer in exchange.”

I would cut in and mention that this was largely selfish on my account, because obviously the campout would be more fun with your best friend there, but I’ve realized neither of them are listening to me. They seem to be engaged in some sort of verbal battle of who knows Lydia better.

“She—” Elliot begins to reply, then breaks off, seemingly having realized he’d gotten carried away. “Err, that’s not important. Where were we?” He fumbles around in his bag. “I have a list of questions. Let me just get that and we can do this thing right.”

I feel a surge of sympathy. I meant what I told him: I did like him at one point, but once Cole came back into my life there was only him. Turns out the line between love and hate is as thin as they say.

“Sounds great; you’re doing great, Elliot,” I say too chirpily, then cringe inwardly. He won’t appreciate my false cheeriness. “I mean, you do you, reporter man.”

Both Cole and Elliot shoot me funny looks, and I quickly start rearranging the bed covers to avoid eye contact. Pregnancy has clearly made me socially inept.

Elliot really does have a whole list of questions, and Cole and I spend the next thirty minutes dutifully answering them. Cole doesn’t release my hand the whole time and he keeps complimenting me every time Elliot asks a question. By the end of the interview my nerves are completely shot from trying to remind myself that he’s play acting.None of this is real. I tell myself firmly.Sure you’ve kissedhim now, but that just means he’s physically attracted to you. And that attraction is probably just some sort of weird primal instinct activated by the fact that you’re carrying his babies.

“Well, I think that’s all the questions I have.” Elliot puts his notepad back in his satchel and stands to go. “I expect the article will run in tomorrow’s paper.”

“Thank you.” Cole finally drops my hand, rising off the bed to walk Elliot out.

“Oh,” Elliot turns in the doorway, “I forgot to tell you, Lydia, I met your brother last week. He moved in next door to a friend of mine, so I met him when we both came to poker night at my friend’s house. He’s a great guy–even if he did win twenty bucks off me.” He lets out a laugh, but I can’t even manage a smile in response.

Josh is back from his bed and breakfast tour? He’s back, and he made no effort to come and see me despite the fact that I had a near death experience and consequently spent a week in the hospital. Quite suddenly I’m cold all over.

“Lydia?” Elliot’s smile freezes. “You okay?”

“You’re saying you saw Josh last week?” Cole speaks in my place.

“Uh, yeah. Last Friday, I think it was.”

“Right.” Cole’s mouth is set in a straight line, his fury evident. “So he came back while Lydia was still in the hospital then.”

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?” Elliot looks nervously between me and Cole, but neither of usanswer. “Uh, maybe I should just go?” he goes on, edging out of the room. “Sorry if I put my foot in my mouth.”

“No,” Cole snaps to attention, “don’t worry about it. You’ve been quite helpful actually. I’ll follow you out. I have something I need to do.” He strides over to me and kisses me softly on the forehead. “I have to go,” he tells me softly. “Will you be okay?”

“Where are you going?” I finally find my voice. “I thought you had that meeting with Saul today.”

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