Page 67 of Keeping Lucy

“Okay.”

“She tells me that you and Dante used to be good friends, when you were teenagers.”

Lucy hesitated. “Yeah, that’s right.”

It wasn’t entirely accurate. We knew each other, of course, and I’d spent a lot of time at her parent’s house. And there was the jerking off while I imagined her, but that really wasn’t an indication of friendship, was it? We’d never caught up separately, outside of the family. She was always too busy studying or hanging out with Fuckface.

“And when would you say the romance began?”

Lucy frowned, taking a bite of omelet and seeming to think carefully about her answer. “Certainly not when we were teenagers. I already had a boyfriend, who, as you know, went on to be my husband. I’m not the cheating type.” Her tone was defensive, and she shot me a panicked look when I brought Naomi’s coffee to the table.

“It was when we met again in Seattle and I found out Lucy was divorced that….” I inclined my head eloquently. If Naomi wanted to infer from that unfinished comment that I’d harbored feelings for Lucy back in the day, great.

“Was it a planned pregnancy?”

“No, but we don’t regret it one bit.” I sat down, laid my arm on the back of Lucy’s chair, giving her a comforting squeeze as I handed over my coffee mug. She took it gratefully, wrapping her fingers around it, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. The look of pleasure on her face was almost erotic, and it made me shift in my seat uncomfortably.

Lucy handed the mug back to me and turned back to Naomi, to find her watching us both closely, her lips pursed. Blushing self-consciously, Lucy said, “Sorry. I can’t stomach the taste of coffee anymore, but I still love the smell.”

“I see.” More notes in the file.

What a fucking strange situation to be in, to have someone making notes on you like that. I was starting to feel like an animal in a zoo.

“Have you made plans regarding the baby?”

“What sort of plans?” Lucy asked.

“Work, childcare, division of labor between the two of you.”

“Um, we aren’t really thinking that far ahead. Right now, I’m feeling so lousy I’m just taking each day as it comes.” Lucy flashed me another nervous look as Naomi continued to take notes. All I could do was shrug slightly in reply. I had no idea if that was the right answer or not. I didn’t think it was that common for couples still in the first trimester of pregnancy to start planning who would do nighttime feeds and stuff like that. “But Dante works four days on, four days off and my mom works part time as a social worker. Dad is self-employed, and my brother is too. One of my sisters is a stay-at-home mom. All of them are nearby and will help whenever we need it. Honestly, we have so much support, it’s amazing.”

“And what about your mother, Dante? I’ve been unable to reach her.”

“She lives in Raleigh,” I bit out. “Her involvement in the baby’s life will be…minimal.” I gritted my teeth on that statement, knowing it would be true even if Lucy and I were legitimately married and I was going to be a real father to the baby.

More scribbled notes, then she closed the file. “Thank you. As I said, I’m very close to finalizing the investigation. If there are any last loose ends I feel I haven’t covered, I’ll be in touch. May I use your bathroom before I go?”

“Of course.” Lucy told Naomi where it was and when she was gone, sagged against me, letting her head drop on my shoulder. “Fuck, I hate these interviews.”

“I know. Me too.” I caressed her temple, smiling when she yawned and some of the tension left her body. She stayed perfectly still, her breathing deepening as she relaxed even more. “Are you asleep?”

Giggling, she said, “No, but you’re pretty comfy. I could stay here all day.”

Tension slammed into her, though, when Naomi came back in, collecting her briefcase and handbag. “No need to get up,” she said. “I’ll see myself out.” She didn’t leave right away though: she just stood there, looking at us. It seemed like she was going to say something because she opened her lips, closed them, opened them again, closed them again. Finally, she just said, “Goodbye,” and went out.

“Okay, that was fucking odd behavior.”

“It was,” I agreed.

CHAPTER36

Lucy

On tenterhooks. What a weird expression. “To wait nervously for something.” I didn’t know exactly what a tenterhook was, but I sure did feel like I was hanging on a hook of some kind, anxious, wound so tight that I could snap at any moment. And this was just half an hour after Naomi Perkins left, holding our fate in her hands.

I couldn’t help but think about how close we were to the end. One way or the other, very soon, Dante would leave and I’d be alone. The only question was whether or not I would be alone with a pile of medical debt. Although I didn’t really want the stress of that financial pressure, it was barely a blip on my radar. Dante leaving. That’s all I could think of.

We cleaned up the breakfast dishes in silence, then I said, “I might go and lie down for a bit.”Cry into my pillow so you can’t hear me.

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