Page 97 of Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend

He slaps his upper thigh. “Hot dog! I knew it.”

“Oh, yeah, and get this.” I press my fingers and thumbs together in a gesture to show that I’m about to drop a bomb.

“Twins.”

His eyes widen, the blue-gray shining as he digests the words. “Oh, aren’t you a lucky man?”

“I didn’t feel so lucky at first, but truthfully it’s growing on me.”

“The truth has a way of doing that, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll take a bunch of strawberries, and hey – if your wife hadn’t gotten a job out here, do you think you would have stayed in Pennsylvania forever?” I ask him, handing him a crisp $20 bill.

“Maine,” he says without even a thought as he hands me my change.

I shake my head at him, jiggling my palm back at him so that he takes it back. “Maine, huh? Why Maine?”

“Oh, the most beautiful state in the country.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, I really believe that. Not a question in my mind about it. And of course, the freshest seafood you’ve ever had in your life.”

He presses his palms together in silent prayer as if recalling both the lobster and God together simultaneously.

“Maine. Okay, then. Hey, thank you for everythingng. Although I’m not completely sure you didn’t manifest that pregnancy.”

He laughs out loud, stroking his beard with his hand, tugging on it like a wizard. He hands me the cartons of strawberries. “I threw a couple of extras in there for you.”

Wordlessly, I lift up the cartons in a sign of gratitude and walk back toward my car, having decided what I need to do next and where I need to do it.

I swing the bag of strawberries at my side, thinking of dipping them in chocolate and feeding them one by one to Hannah while I tell her all the ways I’ve solved every little problem we’ve ever had and she glows like a woman treated right, her freckles golden and her eyes sparkling.

I eat one and it’s tart, nearly sour. I eat another and it’s sweet and easy, perfectly ripe.

I pull out my phone as I chew on the strawberry, letting the juice fill my mouth with its sweetness.

“Hi, Chris,” Sarah answers. “Do you have good news for me?”

I press my tongue into the bottom cheek of my mouth. “No, Sarah, I don’t.”

I expected to feel bad, guilty even, telling her that I couldn’t give her her her job back. Instead, I feel a sense of calm knowing that this is what’s best for everyone, even if it hurts right now.

“Ah,” she whispers from the other line.

I spit out the top of my strawberry, watching the fuzzy green sail through the air in an arc.

“Sarah, I think I was tempted to have you come back given our long history and the fact that you seemed truly remorseful. But, having thought it through, there’s really nothing you could do at this point to make me trust you again. And there’s just no way around that. I can’t have you working for me if I can’t trust you. I hope you can see that.”

“You can trust me, Chris. I want to make it up to you.” Her voice is begging, something I haven’t heard from her in all the years she’s worked with me. She’s always been so calm and collected.It hurts that she hid her real self from me all this time, only to show some vulnerability when trying to manipulate me.

“Well, you can’t make it up to me, Sarah. Instead, I suggest you think about how you plan to make restitution. I won’t put my business on the line again, so we won’t be having any further conversations. Rest assured, though, you’ll be hearing from both my lawyer and law enforcement.”

I hang up, breathing a sigh of relief so hard it sucks the air out of my lungs.

I squeeze the grass under my hands and feel the blades tickle between my fingers. I turn my face to the sky and let the sun shine on my eyelids for just a moment before looking for Julie’s number in my phone.

I sift through my call history, looking for the number she called me from the other day.

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