Page 54 of Average Joe

“That’s the thing, Marley.” She splayed her fingers over her lower belly. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, Jessica. That’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.” I silently hoped for a girl because boys turned into men, and men sucked.

“I know this situation is shitty”—she waved a hand toward the smokey rubble—“but the timing is perfect. I would’ve had to give my notice soon anyway, and I was nervous about telling you. And…” Her face scrunched with emotion.

Several industrial business complexes surrounded the South Park stand. Jessica had a loyal group of customers, her boyfriend of two years being one of them.

I pulled her into a hug. “I sensed something off with you but couldn’t put my finger on it. God, I should’ve noticed the signs.”

“Quinton accepted a promotion, and they’re moving him to Boise to run the Idaho division.” She pulled away and wiggled a diamond-clad finger at me. “He proposed last night.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so happy for you.”

“With his new salary, I’ll get to be a stay-at-home mom, Marley.”

“You’ll be the best mother,” I told her, smiling, though my heart blackened with jealousy.

My cell buzzed. Distracted, I answered without checking the caller.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“This is Marley,” I sang into the phone while grabbing Jessica’s hand to study the mammoth diamond.

“Do you like my gift?” asked an emotionless male voice.

Still preoccupied, I answered, “Sorry, you must have the wrong number,” then ended the call.

My phone rang again seconds later. I didn’t recognize the digits and figured the same person had misdialed, so I didn’t answer.

After sending Jessica on her way, I waited for the fire department to finish their inspection before tucking back into my Subi, where I sat in contemplation.

The morning’s events should’ve crushed me with worry. Funny, though, the weight on my shoulders lightened by at least a hundred pounds. I owned three stands. Sex sells, I’d learned, and I had reaped the benefits of my employees’ good looks and hard labor. I’d paid off the loans for all three of my locations within their first year of opening. The income was hard-earned but substantial. But I could live comfortably on the earnings of two. I had no debt, and I no longer hadtwohouseholds to support. And now, I had one less employee. Yes, I could manage. Everything would be hunky-dory.

Heck, college no longer seemed out of reach. Maybe the fire was a blessing in disguise—a gift from above.

Do you like my gift?

My stomach churned. Couldn’t be related. I looked at the number on my phone, pressedCall, then hung up. “You’re being ridiculous,” I mumbled to myself.

But was I? The timing had been perfect.

Do you like my gift?

Oh, jeez. My curiosity would come back to bite me in the ass, but still, with trembling hands, I pressedCallagain.

Three loud beeps sounded in my ear. “You have reached a number that is no longer in service—”

I hung up, shook off the funky vibes, then headed home to contact the insurance company and hunker down with a mountain of paperwork.

* * *

I rolled into my driveway, nerves vibrating. At the same time, a mammoth Silverado muscled into Joe’s driveway, engine purring, chrome blinding under the sun’s command.

Mentally ticking off my to-do list, I headed up the walkway, then stopped short when the door of the Chevy opened. Two heavy boots landed hard on the cement, and a thick voice shouted, “Hey, neighbor.”

The man strode my direction, two hundred plus pounds of rolling muscle, olive skin, and piercing gaze. I recognized him from Alice’s funeral, though we hadn’t been introduced.

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