“Really?” I smile. Oh my god I’m smiling. He notices too and his eyes go to my mouth, his face softening.
“Really.” He holds out his wallet.
“You want me to take your wallet?”
“It only has notes in it,” he responds with a shrug.
My smile gets wider. “I should say no but I’m too excited for cake.” The moment gets better when he smiles too. “Thank you, Nathan. I thought you wanted to come?”
“And deny the house cook her chance to shine?” I like this Nathan; he’s all friendly and teasing. It suits him, oddly enough.
“Have fun, drive safe.”
“Promise,” I say and descend the stairs. “Do you want anything while I’m out?”
“No.” I start to move again. Then I halt because he calls my name.
“Yes?” I add extra emphasis on the S, my eyes narrowed suspiciously. He’s stalling… but why?
“You don’t just look pregnant.” He takes a step down, his eyes coming to mine.
“I don’t?”
“No.” He shakes his head, his breath leaving him. “You look beautiful.”
My breath leaves me too. I… it’s… they… but…
“See you soon,” I shout quickly as my hand closes around the handle and pulls it open and close the door behind me. What the fuck was that? Maybe I shouldn’t swear but that was cause for cursing.
You look beautiful.
You look beautiful.
You look beautiful.
Is this a platonic compliment? Surely he wouldn’t… couldn’t even think about such a thing. I’ve only just lost Caleb. It’s only been a month since his funeral.
This is so messed up.
I’m reading into it. All I ever do is overanalyse things.
Nathan is aloof and mean but he’s also not. In fact, I’m wondering now if the Nathan I knew is even the real Nathan at all. Which leads me to wonder why such a clearly sweet, kind, generous and handsome man would ever put on such a horrid mask.
His desperation to have me stay clearly runs deeper into him than I realised. Or maybe it doesn’t. I don’t know him well enough to make that judgement, but I also saw a broken man in his eyes. Is that because he lost his brother or is that because of something deeper?
Why am I overanalysing everything again? Is my mind really that desperate to think of anything but Caleb and what I’ve lost?
Am I trying to find someone more broken than myself?
******
Even though I said she didn’t have to, Paula also escorts me around the supermarket after three hours of traipsing mindlessly through the village. It’s a few miles out of town but it’s big enough and has everything we need. I’m grateful that she pushes the trolley. My back is killing me.
“So what are your plans now that you’re here?” She asks as I throw a variety of sauces into the trolley. A home isn’t a home if you don’t have condiments.
“To have the baby. That’s all I’ve figured out so far,” I admit and wince when she smiles with pity.
“How long do you have left, dear?”
“About seventeen weeks, if the baby waits that long.”
I turn down the bakery aisle and instantly start grabbing things from the shelves. Paula continues light conversation, asking if I have everything I need, nursery wise.
I don’t have everything I need. I don’t even have bottles or nappies. Damn, I really need to get my head together. Will the baby be in my room or will they be in a nursery? Where’s he or she going to sleep?
I should ask Nathan but he’s already giving so much. I’ll just have to use what little money I have left to prepare. This is my baby and my responsibility. Part of me wants to get a job, but I’m not stupid enough to try. Nobody is going to hire me in this condition and I’d be a fool to think otherwise.
My phone begins to ring and I check the screen before answering. His voice and angry tone are immediate. “Where are you?”
“Not even a hello?” I quip.
“Hello.” He barks. “Where are you?”
“I’m just getting groceries,” I explain, moving away from Paula so I can have some semblance of privacy. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s almost five.”
“And?” I’m confused as to why that’s an issue.
I hear him exhale out an exasperated breath. “And it’ll be dark soon. You’ve been gone for hours.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in about an hour.” I grab a couple of bags of flour and throw them in the trolley, coughing a little when a tiny poof of powder hits me in the face. It’s not enough to cover my skin but enough to make my lungs constrict for a moment.
“You’re getting sick. I’m coming to get you.”
“It was a bag of flour,” I groan, almost stomping my foot on the ground. “I’m going stir crazy at the house. I haven’t been food shopping in forever. Let me have this.”
He hangs up without responding. I get my arse into gear, get the things I want and need, pay for them and say goodbye to Paula.
Nathan was right about it getting dark soon. I’m half way home and it’s pitch black. Fortunately I don’t mind driving in the dark so it’s not too difficult. I just hope he isn’t having some kind of mental breakdown.
He has no right to give me a curfew.
Or does he?
It is his house.
Damn this is so confusing and annoying and… gah. I’m going to go home, have a cake, a decaf cappuccino and curl up on my window seat with my headphones on.
When I park outside the large house, I smile. It looks like a postcard. Most of the lights are switched on inside making it glow in the midst of the trees.
My picture perfect image is ruined when the front door flies open and Nathan storms out. He starts shouting before he even makes it to the car. “You left at noon!” I climb out on a sigh.
“I’m fine, Nathan.” Opening the boot, I start grabbing bags. Nathan snatches them from my hands. “No lifting. I’m extremely disappointed in you, Guinevere.”
“For lifting?”
He shoots me a look that makes me pinch my lips together in an effort to not give him the same look back. “For driving home in the dark. You don’t know these roads.”
“I’m a good driver.”
“What would Caleb say?” He hisses. A whimper escapes me. I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to talk about that. “I’m not trying to make you miserable…”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I say quietly, my tone warning.
I move towards the house, my heart thudding and my face burning as my anger cooks. Who does he think he is? I’m twenty one, not five.
Nathan follows me in, his hands full. “You’re acting like I’m the bad guy here.”
“Aren’t you?” I bite back and start putting away the shopping. “What the hell is wrong with you? You seem to want to control everything I do.”
He runs the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, his annoyance barely concealed. “I’m just trying to help you, Guinevere.”