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Authors: Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant
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is there any chance you’d be up for doing me a favor?” I heard Patrick gurgling cutely in the background. “I hate to ask, but—”
“Anything,” I said. “What do you need?”
“I was wondering if you could watch the baby for me this afternoon? Just for a few hours? I’m so desperate to get out of the house for a little bit, and a girl I used to work with said she could squeeze me in for a cut and color at four today. She just called me to say she had a cancellation, but I totally get it if you aren’t up to it.”
Not up to it? A few hours with the cutest cuddlebug in the world would cheer up and distract me. “I’d love to. Do you want to drop him off here? Around three thirty?” I turned a guilty eye to the hall closet, which was crammed full of outrageously expensive baby supplies. I’d paid for them with money that I still owed to the credit-card company, but I’d known that Patrick would spend time at my place and hadn’t wanted Ade and Owen to haul stuff back and forth. This occasion was an excellent example of why I needed the baby supplies; having Patrick here would justify my purchases as necessary expenses.
“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Adrianna asked. “Because I could try to get another appointment.”
“No way. I want time with my buddy,” I insisted. “See you then.”
I took a scalding shower. Although the fire had been extinguished by the time I’d reached Digger’s, the horrible odor that had enveloped his street seemed to cling to me. I washed my hair twice and doused myself in orange-and-honey-scented bath gel. Later, I spent a few hours trying to focus on my schoolwork, but images of burning buildings won out against rational thought, and I made almost no headway in my reading. I scanned the notes I had taken on the clients I saw at my internship and tried to think about other people’s problems instead of my own.
Just as I was setting up Patrick’s Pack ’n Play—a little portable crib and infant play area (not that I was expecting to let the gorgeous one out of my arms)—Kyle called.
“Chloe, I am so sorry about this morning. Not only for the fire that killed your friend, but also for my father’s behavior. It’s the way he is, but it was inexcusable. I just dropped him at the airport, so at least he’s out of our hair for the time being.”
My stomach churned when Kyle said killed, but I appreciated his apology. “Thanks so much. I’m still in shock,” I said. “I can’t really process what’s happened yet.”
“Of course. Listen, if you’re up for it, I’d love to take you to dinner tonight. I have a seven o’clock reservation at Incline, in the Seaport district.”
“That would be lovely,” I said honestly. “I’ll meet you there?”
“I’ll come pick you up, if you like,” Kyle offered. Obbh... so maybe this was a date? “I have some more material to give you. The papers from the other night were only the tip of the iceberg. That is, if you’re still interested in working on the cookbook?”
“Of course I’m still interested.”
“Great. I don’t want you to have to schlep all this stuff home with you, so this way I can drop it at your house. Six thirty sound okay?”
“Sure.” I gave him my address and hung up, perfectly happy to have an excuse to cut my studying short. Patrick and Ade would be here soon, and I’d have to figure out what I was wearing to dinner with Kyle. Incline was a chic, intimate little restaurant that practically screamed romance— small tables, candles everywhere, soft background music, the whole shebang. When I’d gone there with my gay friend Doug, we’d nodded politely at our server’s efforts to promote our supposed romance. The two of us hadn’t really longed to be left alone, and we hadn’t been eager to share a heart-shaped dessert. Luckily, I’d never eaten there with Josh, so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed with memories of— Damn! I shut my eyes, refusing to tear up over my ex.
“Anything,” I said. “What do you need?”
“I was wondering if you could watch the baby for me this afternoon? Just for a few hours? I’m so desperate to get out of the house for a little bit, and a girl I used to work with said she could squeeze me in for a cut and color at four today. She just called me to say she had a cancellation, but I totally get it if you aren’t up to it.”
Not up to it? A few hours with the cutest cuddlebug in the world would cheer up and distract me. “I’d love to. Do you want to drop him off here? Around three thirty?” I turned a guilty eye to the hall closet, which was crammed full of outrageously expensive baby supplies. I’d paid for them with money that I still owed to the credit-card company, but I’d known that Patrick would spend time at my place and hadn’t wanted Ade and Owen to haul stuff back and forth. This occasion was an excellent example of why I needed the baby supplies; having Patrick here would justify my purchases as necessary expenses.
“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Adrianna asked. “Because I could try to get another appointment.”
“No way. I want time with my buddy,” I insisted. “See you then.”
I took a scalding shower. Although the fire had been extinguished by the time I’d reached Digger’s, the horrible odor that had enveloped his street seemed to cling to me. I washed my hair twice and doused myself in orange-and-honey-scented bath gel. Later, I spent a few hours trying to focus on my schoolwork, but images of burning buildings won out against rational thought, and I made almost no headway in my reading. I scanned the notes I had taken on the clients I saw at my internship and tried to think about other people’s problems instead of my own.
Just as I was setting up Patrick’s Pack ’n Play—a little portable crib and infant play area (not that I was expecting to let the gorgeous one out of my arms)—Kyle called.
“Chloe, I am so sorry about this morning. Not only for the fire that killed your friend, but also for my father’s behavior. It’s the way he is, but it was inexcusable. I just dropped him at the airport, so at least he’s out of our hair for the time being.”
My stomach churned when Kyle said killed, but I appreciated his apology. “Thanks so much. I’m still in shock,” I said. “I can’t really process what’s happened yet.”
“Of course. Listen, if you’re up for it, I’d love to take you to dinner tonight. I have a seven o’clock reservation at Incline, in the Seaport district.”
“That would be lovely,” I said honestly. “I’ll meet you there?”
“I’ll come pick you up, if you like,” Kyle offered. Obbh... so maybe this was a date? “I have some more material to give you. The papers from the other night were only the tip of the iceberg. That is, if you’re still interested in working on the cookbook?”
“Of course I’m still interested.”
“Great. I don’t want you to have to schlep all this stuff home with you, so this way I can drop it at your house. Six thirty sound okay?”
“Sure.” I gave him my address and hung up, perfectly happy to have an excuse to cut my studying short. Patrick and Ade would be here soon, and I’d have to figure out what I was wearing to dinner with Kyle. Incline was a chic, intimate little restaurant that practically screamed romance— small tables, candles everywhere, soft background music, the whole shebang. When I’d gone there with my gay friend Doug, we’d nodded politely at our server’s efforts to promote our supposed romance. The two of us hadn’t really longed to be left alone, and we hadn’t been eager to share a heart-shaped dessert. Luckily, I’d never eaten there with Josh, so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed with memories of— Damn! I shut my eyes, refusing to tear up over my ex.
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