Page 138 of Flaunt
Bethany has stayed with Sara once or twice in the past couple of weeks. We’ve picked her up for dinner and even attended one of Bethany’s cheer routines, much to my chagrin.
“Hey, Mom has some fudge hidden in the back of her pantry,” I say. “It’s the good pistachio kind. Want me to go get us some?”
She laughs and sits up. “No. Why don’t you just buy it yourself?”
“Because I can’t just go all adult at once. Mom would miss it.”
“Eh, I don’t think so.”
“She secretly likes it when I borrow stuff from her house. It reminds her of when we were little.”
Sara’s phone starts ringing from the bedside table. “Gimme.”
“I turned mine off for you.”
“And I’ll turn mine off for you—after this call.”
I express my displeasure as I hand her the device.
She presses the speakerphone button. “Hello?”
“Hi, Sara. It’s Damaris. Is my son with you by any chance? I saw both of your cars home.”
I shake my head.
“Yup. He’s right here. He can hear you.”
“Banks Owen Carmichael—why did a box full of plastic spiders just show up at my house?”
I grimace. “Why did you open that?”
“They were falling out from under the tape, and I just picked up the box and almost had a heart attack.”
“It’s a federal offense to open someone else’s mail,” I say.
“Then stop sending your shit to my house. Now come and get this box. I’m setting it on the porch. Those little things look so real.”
Sara’s brows pull together. I wink at her.
“I’ll come. Do you have any fudge left?” I ask.
She sighs. “Bring my yellow bowl back.”
“Maybe.”
“Goodbye, Banks.”
“Goodbye, Mama.”
As promised, Sara turns her phone off and sets it next to mine. “I hope our sons aren’t as rotten as you.”
The thought of Sara carrying my son has me hard again. I roll her over on her back, making her squeal.
“You’re going to be sorry you ever said a word about having my baby,” I say, sliding back into her.
She holds my face in her hands. “I doubt it.”
We lose ourselves in each other, forgetting all about the world.
