14
Watermelon
“Uh-oh.Ithinkthere’ssomething wrong,” Zoe said darkly. Butt warm thanks to the seat heater in Ryder’s new local car, merriness coating the town with green and red festiveness, and annoying tunes streamed happily from the speakers.
One hand on the wheel, the other reached quickly across and onto Zoe’s belly. Ryder’s voice was shrill as he asked, “The peanut? Everything okay?”
“Oh, sorry, yes.” Zoe trilled a laugh and locked her fingers with hers over her belly. Not much room left to kick, but the little one squirmed under their joined hands. “Christmas carols. I don’t hate them this year.”
“What kind of person hates Christmas music?”
She tilted a look and snorted a laugh. “It’s terrible stuff. Too happy, or when it’s not happy it’s too damn depressing. Jingles and catchy tunes, and everyone knows them, the same ones over and over but occasionally someone makes a new and inferior cover?”
“But this year?”
Zoe rubbed her hand over her belly and bit the tip of her tongue. “This year it’s our own tree, a bunch of tiny presents for the peanut that she isn’t even out yet to appreciate… I don’t know. Way more fun this year. You and the peanut. Next year is going to be so much fun.”
“Aw. Zoe Halseth, I think you’re ready for this.”
“Never,” she said, tipping her head back and laughing maniacally. “But I am very, very done.”
As they pulled into the driveway, he nodded to the overgrown evergreens. It wasn’t filled with color like usual, as Brenda had lovingly tended to the flower beds year-round. “I love this house,” he said. “Good place to grow up, I’d imagine.”
“It was,” she smiled. “I need to learn to garden.”
He shifted into park and turned toward her, his dark eyebrows tweaked crooked in the corner. She leaned across and straightened the edge. He captured her hand and kissed her palm.
“Did you get your paternity time approved yet?”
Ryder dropped his hands into his lap and slammed his head back against the seat. “Fucking Gene keeps blaming HR, and HR keeps saying they need his approval since he’s my direct boss.”
“Why do—” Zoe clipped her words and sealed her mouth shut. She knew why he worked there, and she wasn’t about to be the one to derail his obsessive career path that he couldn’t see as the toxic relationship it was. “Never mind.”
“What’s up?” He lived and breathed his job. Coming up so often was already wearing on him, the dark circles under his eyes growing heavier with each visit.
“I just don’t want you to burn out. You can’t be everything to everyone.”
He puffed out his cheeks and nodded slowly. “I spend too many nights alone, wishing I was here with you. You know I don’t sleep even when I can. So I think about… this. Us. The three of us. It helps.”
The front door swung open and her father strolled out, hands on his hips, sliding impatiently on the icy concrete while he waited for them to come in.
Ryder snagged a quick peck at her bottom lip. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We will,” she said quickly, squinting a scrunchy-nosed smile to reassure him enough to enjoy Christmas. Nothing to be done about it today anyway.
Ryder met her at the front of the car and linked hands as she joined him.
“Hey, Pops,” she said, feigning a smile, but her cheeks were filled with sawdust.
Squeezing gently, Ryder seemed to catch the hitch in her voice. She couldn’t have pinpointed it, pregnancy hormones, who the hell know, but she wasn’t in the mood for a family thing. Their quiet Christmas morning had been like a guilty pleasure, peaceful and sleepy and cozy.
Scott nodded toward the house. “Tie breaker. Kitchen table or clear all my shit off the dining room table?”
Looking to Zoe, Ryder shrugged, “We all fit nicely in the kitchen, and then we don’t have to interrupt your project.”
Scott winked and walked with them into the house. “Maybe some warm drinks around the fire pit if those clouds drop a few flakes on us? Eighty percent chance.”
“Aw, I love that idea,” Zoe said, and ignored the fact that her drink would lack the extra kick from the rum to warm her up.
