Ashley leaning against the wall with a glass of punch
in his hand.
“I thought the set amount was twenty-five
dollars,” Ashley said, eyeing Amelia. “Riding lessons are more than
that.”
“Well, yes.” I shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“I hope your Secret Santa present won’t
disappoint.”
I stepped closer, and Ashley’s mouth quirked
in amusement as he leaned in a little to hear what I had to say.
“Actually, I left my name out of the Secret Santa jar.”
His face fell as he leaned back. “Why?”
Ah damn, now I had to explain. “Someone was…
leaving me things. Presents. Silly things, you know? But I didn’t
like it, so I… I don’t know. I didn’t want anyone to get me
anything else.”
“Right.” Ashley’s jaw flexed. He seemed…
something. Angry? Upset?
“What’s it matter to you?”
“I guess it doesn’t.” He drained his punch
and pushed away from the wall. “Excuse me,” he said, and left me
standing there with the baby, wondering what I’d done wrong.
SIX
I WOULD NEVER in a million years understand how a
baby as small as Amelia could puke up so much milk .
One minute she was fine, making small cooing
noises in my ear as I tried to digest what had just happened.
Apparently, I was digesting better than she was, because she
startled me with a little wail, and the next minute there was
sour-smelling milk everywhere .
Aisha came rushing over, apologizing
profusely, baby wipes, towels, and diaper bag at the ready, with
Amal close on her heels. He grabbed Amelia, and Aisha began to pat
me dry. I flinched, and one of her rings scratched my cheek. She
gasped.
“Really, it’s fine,” I croaked. Oh God, the smell . “It’s okay. I’ll just go to the bathroom and clean up
a little.”
“Here.” She pressed wet wipes and a few clean
towels into my hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it,” I said, although sweat was
exactly what I’d begun to do as soon as she turned to take care of
Amelia. Without checking who was gawking at me, I pushed through a
side door and aimed straight for the men’s room. My green sweater
was a loss, but thankfully it was pretty thick, and at first I
thought it had saved the shirt underneath. Until I noticed the
collar, soaked through. There was a red mark on my cheek, but at
least Aisha’s ring hadn’t drawn blood.
I wanted to go home.
In fact, that was exactly what I planned on
doing. Ashley had apparently decided somewhere along the way I
wasn’t worth his time—and he had his own car here to drive home—and
Amal had received his gift. I wouldn’t be missed by anyone. I did
feel like I should make my apologies to Carl, but only if I could
pin him down on the sidelines.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, he was
striding down the hall toward me. “Gregory, I was just looking for
you. I heard what happened.”
“I’m sure,” I mumbled, my cheeks burning.
“Listen, I’m just going to go home and—”
“Nonsense. You need a shirt? I have one in my
office. Suivez-moi .”
“Really, Carl, I’d rather—”
“No.” Simple as that. Carl crooked his finger
at me, and I had no choice but to follow.
I always found the office a strange place to
be on nights like this, empty and a little foreboding in the bad
lighting. Carl unlocked his door and let me in. I decided to try
one last time.
“There’s no need for this, Carl, and besides,
your clothes would be too big for me.”
“It’s just a shirt,” he said, opening one of
the built-in closets behind the door. “You can roll up the
sleeves.” He held out a light blue shirt I’d seen him wear before.
“In fact, I think I have a V-neck in here too. I know how you hate
the cold.”
“Um.” I held the shirt gingerly, afraid of
creasing it, as Carl turned to me, holding a lovely blue and purple
striped sweater. I glanced around. Nowhere to hide.
“Go on. Take off that shirt. It smells
terrible.”
“Right.” I began to unbutton the
in his hand.
“I thought the set amount was twenty-five
dollars,” Ashley said, eyeing Amelia. “Riding lessons are more than
that.”
“Well, yes.” I shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“I hope your Secret Santa present won’t
disappoint.”
I stepped closer, and Ashley’s mouth quirked
in amusement as he leaned in a little to hear what I had to say.
“Actually, I left my name out of the Secret Santa jar.”
His face fell as he leaned back. “Why?”
Ah damn, now I had to explain. “Someone was…
leaving me things. Presents. Silly things, you know? But I didn’t
like it, so I… I don’t know. I didn’t want anyone to get me
anything else.”
“Right.” Ashley’s jaw flexed. He seemed…
something. Angry? Upset?
“What’s it matter to you?”
“I guess it doesn’t.” He drained his punch
and pushed away from the wall. “Excuse me,” he said, and left me
standing there with the baby, wondering what I’d done wrong.
SIX
I WOULD NEVER in a million years understand how a
baby as small as Amelia could puke up so much milk .
One minute she was fine, making small cooing
noises in my ear as I tried to digest what had just happened.
Apparently, I was digesting better than she was, because she
startled me with a little wail, and the next minute there was
sour-smelling milk everywhere .
Aisha came rushing over, apologizing
profusely, baby wipes, towels, and diaper bag at the ready, with
Amal close on her heels. He grabbed Amelia, and Aisha began to pat
me dry. I flinched, and one of her rings scratched my cheek. She
gasped.
“Really, it’s fine,” I croaked. Oh God, the smell . “It’s okay. I’ll just go to the bathroom and clean up
a little.”
“Here.” She pressed wet wipes and a few clean
towels into my hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it,” I said, although sweat was
exactly what I’d begun to do as soon as she turned to take care of
Amelia. Without checking who was gawking at me, I pushed through a
side door and aimed straight for the men’s room. My green sweater
was a loss, but thankfully it was pretty thick, and at first I
thought it had saved the shirt underneath. Until I noticed the
collar, soaked through. There was a red mark on my cheek, but at
least Aisha’s ring hadn’t drawn blood.
I wanted to go home.
In fact, that was exactly what I planned on
doing. Ashley had apparently decided somewhere along the way I
wasn’t worth his time—and he had his own car here to drive home—and
Amal had received his gift. I wouldn’t be missed by anyone. I did
feel like I should make my apologies to Carl, but only if I could
pin him down on the sidelines.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, he was
striding down the hall toward me. “Gregory, I was just looking for
you. I heard what happened.”
“I’m sure,” I mumbled, my cheeks burning.
“Listen, I’m just going to go home and—”
“Nonsense. You need a shirt? I have one in my
office. Suivez-moi .”
“Really, Carl, I’d rather—”
“No.” Simple as that. Carl crooked his finger
at me, and I had no choice but to follow.
I always found the office a strange place to
be on nights like this, empty and a little foreboding in the bad
lighting. Carl unlocked his door and let me in. I decided to try
one last time.
“There’s no need for this, Carl, and besides,
your clothes would be too big for me.”
“It’s just a shirt,” he said, opening one of
the built-in closets behind the door. “You can roll up the
sleeves.” He held out a light blue shirt I’d seen him wear before.
“In fact, I think I have a V-neck in here too. I know how you hate
the cold.”
“Um.” I held the shirt gingerly, afraid of
creasing it, as Carl turned to me, holding a lovely blue and purple
striped sweater. I glanced around. Nowhere to hide.
“Go on. Take off that shirt. It smells
terrible.”
“Right.” I began to unbutton the
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