The drive was quick, and when they arrived at the quaint townhouse his father now lived in, Duncan retrieved the box of power tools from the back of his truck. His dad had been bugging him to return them since he was starting projects around his home. Jogging up the stairs to the front porch, Duncan took note of the fresh paint on the door trim before knocking.
His father almost immediately answered as if he’d been expecting him, but asked, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”
“Dropping these off,” he replied, raising the box.
Only after narrowly opening the door did his father reach for his belongings. “Thanks. You have a good day now, son.”
“You, too,” he said, slowly.
As he was about to turn and head back to his vehicle, someone from inside the house said, “Malcolm, don’t forget to tip.”
Duncan froze, recognizing the voice immediately. His mother opened the door, emerging from inside the townhouse swathed in a large fuzzy robe.
His dad’s head dropped, and his mom’s eyes widened as she started talking quickly.
“Unbelievable.”
“Duncan, honey—”
“I swear to God if you two are getting back together…”
They didn’t say anything, and Duncan laughed humorlessly before turning around and striding back to his car.
Retta seemed to sense something was up because she didn’t say a word. He barely took the time to fasten his seatbelt before driving off.
All he could do was focus on the road and the feeling of the steering wheel under his hands.
“You took the wrong turn,” Retta said after several minutes.
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
Quickly, he found his way back onto the correct road, and as they neared the intersection across from the condo, Retta said, “None of my business, but I’m compelled as your fake girlfriend to ask if you’re okay.”
He was about to brush off her inquiry, but as he pulled up behind her parked car on the side of the road, she didn’t look like she was asking out of obligation. Her eyebrows were drawn together, and her body was almost fully turned toward him.
“My parents are the last people who should reconcile,” he said. “They’ve given marriage a shot and proved time and time again it doesn’t work between them.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Nah, it’s fine. I think I’m just pissed about how they have my sister and me writing speeches for their divorce party. It’s—”
“Oh, crap, I’m about to get a ticket,” Retta said, removing her seatbelt and pointing to the parking enforcement officer advancing toward her car.
She looked at him. “Call me and we can finish this conversation, okay?”
But even as she made the sincere offer, he knew they both knew he wouldn’t be doing that. And maybe that’s why she leaned over and kissed him before exiting his truck.
ChapterFifteen
After spendingseveral hours in a birthing class, Kym and Retta found a spot outside of a chic Italian cafe where they could eat their gelato. The sound of street performers and bicycle bells accompanied the breeze Retta was happy to feel on this warm day.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Kym said.
Len had been unable to make the class because of work, and Retta had stepped in to take notes and be there for her friend. However, she hadn’t anticipated the amount of information that would be thrown at her and how overwhelming it all was.
Several times throughout the class, she had to conceal her panicked responses. She wasn’t the one about to give birth, after all.
“No problem,” Retta said. “It was…”
