Eight Weeks, One Day

By the time I pulled into Bailey’s I was feeling more or less perturbed. Last night was a minefield. All events of that whole day drew about thirty years’ worth of anxiety out of me, which I realize is probably not good for the baby. Right after Greg left I wished that I had jumped in the car with him, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the fury waiting inside.

Thankfully, my siblings were still held up in the kitchen, so I pleaded with my parents that I needed to have a really long think to myself, and could we please discuss this tomorrow when everyone’s not so mad at me? My father’s sternness returned, but my mother hugged me and sent me up to my room, promising that she’d steer my brothers and sister away for the night, but also reminding me that we had a lot to discuss tomorrow.

I was even luckier this morning that I woke up early enough to leave before anyone bustled around the house. But I’m one hundred and fifty five percent positive that my luck will be dried out when I get home tonight.

When I entered the shop, things seemed as normal as they always were. I saluted Norman who was manning the cash register as I walked past to the break room.

No one was there when I walked in. I stuffed my purse in the cabinet and grabbed my smock, tying it and walking back to the front where Norman was finishing ringing a customer up. Looking around, I didn’t see Bailey or Kale, though I wasn’t quite ready to see the latter so soon. I figured I needed some normalcy before my emotions ran amuck.

I toed a box aside and leaned against the counter after the door jingled the customer’s exit. “Where’s everybody?”

He shrugged and slipped the receipt through the slot. “Who needs everybody when there’s us?”

I laughed. “Oh yeah, trust Lucy and Norman to get the job done.”

Norman snickered and looked at me. “We would, eventually.” He leaned his elbows on the glass counter, sliding towards me. “Bailey and Kale went to go get some books that were supposed to be delivered this morning. They should be back in half an hour.”

“Is there anything that needs to be done?”

He nodded to the box at my feet. “Those need to be put into the storage room.”

I bent down and eyed the contents. Laughter bubbled from my mouth as I grabbed a book. “Oh my God! You know what this means, right?!”

Norman rolled his eyes. “You’re such a weirdo.”

I threw a book at him and thumbed the pages, stopping halfway in the middle. “Okay, turn to page 156. Let’s see . . .”

“Lucy, you don’t even know what the book’s about.”

“That’s the best part,” I countered, skimming the page and making sure the dialogue included two people. “Aha!” I turned to Norman and started reading.

“How are you so perversely arrogant to dictate my feelings for you? You’re a monstrous man, Mr. Dupont, and I could never allow such poison to enter my heart.” It was a pretty convincing performance, I must say.

Norman snorted. “Such petty folly coming from your pretty little mouth,mademoiselle Toulouse. You seem to forget your necessary betrothal to me, unless you wish to have your family’s estate seized. Your opinion gives me no offense, so vent to your fiery heart’s content.”

“How dare you!” I tried looking indignant, but at Norman’s funny look my smile was barely constrained. “Though you may conquer my person, you will never conquer my heart.” I paused. “Ooh, now you’re supposed to churn in anger and grasp my chin. You’re so violent.”

He chortled. “Only because you’re so petulant.”

“Whatever. Okay, it’s your turn.”

“You think I don’t know about your love for Pierre? You think it doesn’t make my skin boil with contempt when I see your reaction when he lays his eyes upon you? You recoil whenever I touch you, let alone look at you.”

“My happiness is not your own to manipulate. I may become your wife, but I shall die before I become your lover.”

“No, I cannot afford your death anytime soon. However, I can easily dispense of your beloved as soon as we’re bound.”

I gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

“Wouldn’t what?” someone interjected, halting our heated faux argument.

Norman and I looked towards the door that Kale and Bailey just walked through. They looked at us curiously, and then noticed the books in our hands.

Bailey shook her head. “You two are at that? Will you ever stop finding enjoyment out of reading those novels?”

“It’s Lucy’s fault.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, because I forced you to read the words. It takes two to tango, you know that right?”

Kale laughed and walked over, grabbing a book from the box. “What’s this one about?”

“Apparently Lucy’s character is going to marry me, but she loves this Pierre dude. I guess I’m the villain of the story.”

I twittered, “Takes one to read one.”

Kale looked up from reading the synopsis and grinned. “Can I be Pierre?”

Despite my body automatically tensing at Kale’s closeness, I was in a good mood and I missed having fun around him and Norman. I’m still getting used to the fact that he’s my baby’s father, but if I’m not going to tell him, then there’s no point in letting my problems be known, right?

And completely disregarding that fact, I faintly blushed because Kale’s smile was just his own, and that in itself was more than enough to make any girl’s knees go weak. Totally knocked mine out.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re in this scene. Go find a part where we’re all in it,” Norman said, flipping through the book.

“You can do that after you boys grab the boxes from the van,” Bailey said as she came back into the store front.

Kale and Norman walked towards the door with the books still in their hands, perusing through the pages as if they were eager middle-aged women finding those infamous pages that will inevitably be the defaulted pages when opened up after a few years. I know . . . the old books in the romance section all automatically open to those pages.

“Oh, here! I see Pierre’s name!” Kale cried out, nudging Norman’s arm.

Norman looked over at his page. “No Kale, I said find a part where we’reall in it. I can’t let you and Lucy have all the fun.”

“You guys already started without me.”

“We always read without you.”

“I was just pointing out my character’s dialogue appearance!”

“Whatever. Just keep looking,” Norman said as they exited the store.

Smiling at their banter, I took Norman’s place at the counter and picked up the book. As I flipped through, I somehow caught a certain scene (I don’t know, it’s probably my girly romance detector) and couldn’t help but read through the cheesy yet scandalous description of Yvette and Pierre’s midnight rendezvous.

I was getting to the good part where Pierre “simultaneously breathed life and her name into her as they reached the—”

“Lucy, don’t tell me you’re reading that trashy nonsense!”

I squeaked and shoved the book away from me, flushing in embarrassment at being caught by Bailey. “I can’t help it! These women sure know how to grip an audience.”

Bailey shook her head. “Don’t I know it.”

The book safely tucked under the counter, I fiddled with a bookmark stand as I waited for the boys to come back. Bailey went to the back, grumbling something about rearranging the whole store.

My thoughts started to meander as I waited for a customer or my entertainment to come by. Being in a slightly solitary workplace by yourself can be a bit grating on your nerves. Don’t get me wrong, I love Bailey’s for its whimsical and familiar coziness, but without the fabulous people to fill it I would probably be found sleeping on one of the couches. We have our customers, but this ain’t no Barnes and Noble. Good riddance to those corporate somebodies with no personal touch.

I heard some loud complaints drifting from the storage room in the back and smirked imagining the toil Kale and Norman were experiencing bringing all those boxes into that room at the same time.

Soon the bell above the doorframe signaled an entrance and I flicked my eyes towards the front, straightening in my seat to welcome our potential customers. A pair of young girls walked in, presumably high school age. Despite my usual good nature, I lost a hint of decorum as their school-girl laughter filtered through my ears. But I smiled at them nonetheless.

They frazzled past me with not so much as a glance and shuffled their way into the Young Adult section. I had a good view of their casual perusing of books as well as a good ear to catch fragments of their nondescript conversation.

Well, I thought as I refrained from staring too much, at least they read. Can’t really judge a book by its cover, no matter how much perfume is coating it.

When they seemed to have acquired an interest in a book’s synopsis, straying their conversation from some girl’s clothing choice of the day (at that point I had taken back my judgment call) to the romantic drama between the male and female protagonist, I was almost tempted into picking up Humeurs du Cœur and continuing my preferred drama.

I settled for organizing the shelf underneath the counter, even though there wasn’t much save for a few notebooks, a roll of tape, and a stapler. I was dramatically starting to fade into boredom, and cleaning out the shelves fared much better than listening to those girls.

However, my ears latched back onto their conversation when I heard loud giggling and a hushed, “I dare you to ask him!” Him?

My head peeked over the counter and saw the girls trying to be inconspicuous despite their blatant half face cover up with the books. I followed their stare and saw Kale standing in an open aisle trying to figure out where to place the books he held in his arms. Predictable; Kale is suited for being more than an employee in this store. He garners customers like the aforementioned girls with his natural charm, and they’re bound to come flocking back just to see him. This isn’t the first time girls came in just to gawk at him.

Kale was just that guy. That guy who’s always so nice enough to melt any female’s knees while keeping an air about him that bundle up eager guesswork on his persona. He’s the kind of guy to make you feel special without any expanded effort. He’s just that guy.

Of course, I could easily place other males in my life in their role of being the kind of guys they were as well. Norman was that guy who looked crazy with his wild hair, tableau-skin of tattoos, and grumpiness about the workings of the world but is as soft as figgy pudding when prompted. He’s just that guy.

And then there’s my boyfriend. Greg’s the kind of guy who cites studying and partying as equal extremes in his life. He’s the kind of guy to flirt with ten girls at the same time, and making all of them feel as if his universal flattery was as unique as their shades of highlights. And he’s also the kind of guy to make even a girl like me loosen a bit of her standards to make room for him. He’s just that guy.

My attention was drawn back to one of the girls who was either brave enough or duped into approaching him. I slinked back onto the stool and watched in amusement.

Kale was of course oblivious and didn’t notice the girl until she shyly—I internally cackled at her loss of giggles—said, “Excuse me.”

Kale turned around and politely smiled at her, which of course silently waxed poetic to teenage hearts all over the city. “Hey, is there something I can help you with?”

She blinked at him, obviously awed once his voice completed his whole sparkly package. Flashing a bright smile, with not a slight hint of coyness, she held up the book. “You work here, right?”

Kale nodded. “I do.”

She looked over her shoulder and at her friend’s encouraging grin, she turned back to Kale. “Okay, so would you suggest this book for me and my friend to read?”

Kale, in his absolute thoughtfulness, didn’t laugh at the girl for asking him such a stupid question. “May I?” He gestured the book and she gingerly placed it in his hand as if she were handing him a medical tool. Kale read over the synopsis. “Well, I know that this author writes good books. I’ve never read any of them, but I know enough about some of the authors we sell. Anyway, despite the repetitiveness of the plot throughout this genre, I think you girls would enjoy it.”

He smiled and passed it back to her. “Did that help?”

The girl nodded and squeaked out a, “Thanks,” before scurrying back to her friend, not hesitating whatsoever to lower the volume of their squeals. It didn’t help that they were the only customers in the store at the moment.

I was holding back my laughter and as Kale turned back to what he was doing, he caught my eye and smile and flashed a grin back at me. My smile broadened just a tad bit spiteful because those girls were missing out on a wonderful heart stroke.

They came up to me and seemed to finally notice that I had been here all along. I rang their books up and was both bemused and impressed that Kale unknowingly convinced these girls to buy the complete series. He’s a natural salesman: imagine the sales quota if he were working in some women’s clothing store. They kept stealing glances back towards him and the one who talked to him turned to me and sighed.

“You’re so lucky.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Before she could answer, someone shouted their way into the storefront.

“En garde Pierre! I’ll not quit ‘till your head is drawn at my feet!”

That would be Norman.

He had a broom in his hand pointing at Kale who couldn’t hold back his laughter. I snorted and the girls in front of me just stared at Norman, not unlike the looks they were giving Kale. Norman flushed slightly and stood there with the broom awkwardly, glaring at Kale. Kale didn’t stop laughing.

After what I suppose was a thorough investigation, the same girl looked at me again, the put out expression in her face making way for her grievance. “I’m so totally jealous of you right now.”

Her friend nodded. “Yeah, you have two hot guys working with you.”

I checked my grin. “We also have a quarterback who stocks the books.”

Their eyes widened along with their mouths. “Oh my God, are you hiring?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, we don’t have any positions open at the moment. But I’d be happy to give you two applications. How old are you?”

“We’re sixteen.”

I slid a couple of applications in their shopping bags and handed it to them. “Alright. Bring it back to us and we’ll contact you if a position is available.”

“Oh, we will be back.”

Once the bells intoned their exit I turned to the guys and laughed. “Those girls were all over you, Kale.”

Norman brandished his makeshift weapon again. “What is this all over business? You have the gall to flirt with girls while working and in front of Lucy?” My face quickly heated up.

Kale held up his hands. “Whoa. I wasn’t flirting. Was I, Luce?”

I shook my head, still mortified at Norman’s outcry. Though I haven’t told him anything about my infatuation with our coworker, Norman was keen on things like that. Well, he’s just always wanted something to happen between us.

I was thankful for Kale’s apparent ignorance of Norman’s remark. “See. And why did you jump out like a monkey?”

Norman grasped the broom handle with both hands and proceeded to twirl it around. It wasn’t very impressive. “We’re supposed to duel! Those girls totally ruined the moment!”

“Hey!” I interjected, brandishing my copy of the book at him. “You two can’t duel without me! I don’t even know what part you’re going to read!”

Norman huffed. “You don’t show up until after we duel. And after I kill Pierre.”

I stuck him a nasty look. “Even if you kill Pierre my character’s probably going to kill herself right after.”

“I get the satisfaction.”

Kale walked around him towards the back. “So now that we know our tragedies and your depravity, are we done reading?”

Norman waved the broom at Kale’s retreating back. I scrunched my nose at Norman’s weirdness and started flipping through the back pages, determined to find this so-called death of the passionate lovers.

Norman’s hand came down on the countertop the moment I found the first interesting scene. I blinked up at him. “What?”

“Weren’t you annoyed with the way he flirted with those girls?” he asked, his lack of subtlety grating on my patience.

“Norman,” I hissed, “shut up! You’re so mean!”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say anything about you liking him.”

My eyes swiftly shot towards the entrance, seeking Kale’s reentry. I glared back at Norman. “Who says I do?”

Norman laughed and eased away from the counter. “Lucy, I’m not stupid. You are for being such a dopey malingerer.”

“What the hell’s a malingerer?”

“You, obviously,” he replied.

“Well, I’m not. And he wasn’t flirting with them. They’re like five years younger than him, and you weren’t even out here to see it.”

“Are you soaked?” he suddenly asked.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’ve been swimming in da Nile.”

I shot him an exasperated look. At this point there was no veering Norman away from his presumption of my affection for Kale. “Norman.”

His cheeky grin folded into a softer one. “Don’t worry Luce. Your secret’s safe with me.”

I winced and rubbed the straight edge of the novel. “Am I really that obvious? Do you think he knows?”

Norman shrugged and glanced backwards towards the back. “He’s smart, but you can’t call him a Casanova. He’s more of a Mr. Darcy sans the cramped stick up his butt and a bit more oblivious to his lady love’s feelings.”

“. . .Uh huh. So I take it you read Pride and Prejudice before?” I asked, finding it funny that despite being an English major, Norman still succumbed to the woman’s most trusted piece of literature.

Norman shrugged nonplussed at my amusement. “I dated this girl back in high school who convinced me into reading Austen.”

“Really.”

“Okay, well she threatened to break up with me if I didn’t read at least one. I was really into her.”

The image of Norman, a bit younger and without his tattoos but stillNorman, reading Pride and Prejudice in high school was hilarity in its own right. Though, he’s about read any title you throw at him, so it wasn’t surprising that he would allow some girl to get him to read a Jane Austen novel.

Then again, here we are today reading out lines to trashy, 19th century dated romance novels that put a shame to the core of romantic literature.

“So where is she now?” I asked, since Norman hasn’t been up to date in romancing the ladies.

He laughed with a roll of his shoulders, either shrugging off the befalling of their relationship, or not knowing what was up with his ex-girlfriend. “She’s getting her degree in Literature . . . and currently engaged to my brother.”

“Ouch.” I winced, sympathizing on his behalf. His face held nary a look of defeat, instead keeping his grin.

“It wasn’t really that big of a deal. We were just those kinds of people who are so compatible with each other that we functioned better as friends than lovers. I actually suggested that she and my brother go out,” he said with another shrug.

I twirled a pen in my hand. “Well, that’s good that it worked out for the best. So does that mean you’re looking for a girl who’s not well-matched for you?”

“No. These things just come to you, Luce. Sometimes they work out and sometimes they don’t. Life’s always veering off whatever track you set it on.” Hmm, spoken like well-versed Austen reader.

Sighing, I mentally gestured towards my imminent life-changing circumstance. “Don’t I know it.”

“Don’t worry Lucy, you’ll find love. Sooner, if not later,” he added with a conciliatory wink. I guess I should be glad that at least someone was holding the torch for team Lucy-Kale.

“You seem to forget that I’m not currently in the position to even want to do anything about that,” I prompted, careful to keep any details out in case Kale happened to choose this very moment to walk back in.

Norman snorted and walked over to the nearest bookstand. “You’re still dating that snooty loser guy?”

“His name’s Greg,” I grumbled. I immediately noted how I failed to defend his honor (was it really honor?) by rebutting Norman’s insult with praises of Greg’s intellect, or his great conversational skills, or even his general sweetness and care. Not to mention his total trumping at the list of hottest of hot guys at our school. What was wrong with me?

It was no surprise that Norman absolutely disapproved of my boyfriend. When I first described him to Norman and Kale, Norman shook his head in disappointment. When he finally saw him, his sigh couldn’t be any lower.

Norman looked as if he could care less whether Greg had an extra toe or whatnot. “He’s no good for you.”

“He’s better than none.”

“Not in your case.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what you think of my boyfriend. I’m the one dating him. And quite frankly I’m content with Greg.”

Norman stood up and looked at me. “Are you really?”

If I wanted to be honest, I would’ve ripped open the can of beans and threw them all at Norman in an array of qualms and sobs leading to the details of me pregnant and the baby’s parentage. Good thing I didn’t feel like candidacy today.

“He’s a nice person. And we’ve already settled on our separation when he leaves for college.”

“So why not end it now? You can definitely move onto better things not worth mentioning,” Norman suggested a bit petulantly.

“Because I like being with him, Norman! Deal with it!”

He visibly backed off. “You’re getting yourself into a love triangle, just like the characters in that romance novel. You’re Yvette, Kale’s Pierre, and Greg’s Mr. Dupont.”

There really was no connection. I humored him anyway. “Not really.”

He regarded me with smiling eyes. “And Pierre’s now out of the picture.” I got that he was referring to Pierre’s absence as my current ties with my own Mr.Dupont (Norman was reveling in Greg’s chosen villain, I just knew it).

“No I’m not,” Kale called out before I could even retort as he came back through the hall carrying a box. “And I don’t die. Neither does Lucy’s character.”

I stuck my tongue out at Norman, relieved that the subject was changed. “You’re just jealous that you’re now the odd guy out.”

He laughed. “I feel betrayed.”

“Literally or literary?” I quipped. Kale, who was now standing next to me after placing the box on the counter, laughed. My stomach twirled at his closeness.

Norman sadly said, “Both.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something, like helping Kale?”

“I should.”

“You will,” Kale corrected. “There’s one more box in the back that needs to be shelved. Bailey should be done inventorying those.”

“You don’t have to be so responsible, Kale. You just don’t want to be killed à la Norman’s Radical Ninja Broom.”

“Uh.” Kale and I shared a look.

Norman sighed and settled for defeat . . . and normalcy. “Fine. But we are going to continue.” He gave me a pointed look and I deftly ignored him.

Norman left, leaving me and Kale alone. It was quiet as I watched Kale pull a handful of books out of the box. I lamented my definite crush on him, my thrumming heart as proof. It sucked that things had to be this way. If there wasn’t the impending issue of me carrying his baby, then I would maybe say something about how I felt. Maybe.

But I am a malingerer and I’d rather choke on my fear than to die of heartache if Kale ever reacted badly to my pregnancy.

Somehow Kale was suddenly at my side without me knowing how he got there and my breath cramped my lungs. “Heads up Luce,” he said as he reached behind me to put some books on the shelves.

I ducked my head. “Up or down?” I muttered, immediately shrinking myself, afraid that any contact would dissolve my careful resistance to cataclysm.

It was ridiculous. I was paving my own path of eggshells, and the more I dug myself into my hole of spinelessness the longer I walked. This was Kale’s baby, and I should just suck it up and tell him. I couldn’t even come close to trying.

As he stood impossibly close to me with his scent curving around me in an all too familiar pang, I entertained the memory of waking up alone in an unfamiliar bed and the onslaught of mortification hitting me with a resounding bang. I had a one night stand with the one person I never thought I’d even come close to kissing.

That wasn’t all that was hitting me. My bladder suddenly signaled an emergency and I jumped off the stool, brushing against Kale as I ran around the counter.

“I have to pee!” I cried out, in case I alarmed him into thinking that I was having another kind of emergency, i.e., my bout with morning sickness.

Once finished with the bathroom, I decided that I should take a time out and reassess myself. It was a slow day anyway, and Kale could always handle the customers. I was also getting hungry, all thanks to this baby, so I rounded the corner and entered the break room. Thankful that it was empty, I walked over to the little refrigerator and pulled out the first thing appealing to my taste.

I grabbed the carton of cottage cheese and a spoon without any thought. I knew this was a product of my pregnancy, because cottage cheese used to make me gag. Somehow though, I couldn’t stop eating it.

When I got back to the front, cheese still in hand, Kale was finished stacking the books and sat on the counter reading his copy of the novel. Was it possible for a guy to be any cuter?

He looked up when I came closer and smiled curiously. “I thought you had to use the bathroom?”

I nodded. “I did.”

“And now you’re hungry?” Kale looked at what it was I was eating and added, “I thought you didn’t like cottage cheese.”

I waggled the spoon at him. “You know, taste buds change every seven years.”

Kale laughed. “No they don’t.”

I returned to the seat peeking over his arm to see what he was reading. “Are you reading the bad parts?”

“I was reading about how I kill Norman.”

“Oh! Do I help? Or am I in some compromising situation that signals the whole damsel in distress role? Hopefully not . . . I don’t like being those kinds of girls.”

I watched as Kale scanned through the pages. “I only read up to the part where we’re having this eloquent quarrel and I think he called you a slut in so many French words.”

“Oh nuh uh. Shut it down.” I scooped more cottage cheese into my mouth.

Kale said, “So it’s up to me to defend your honor, even though you technically are having an affair while betrothed.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a slut if I only love one man. And I haven’t even touched the other one!” This situation seemed oddly reminiscent of my own, but I refused to dwell on that. Maybe Norman was onto something.

He laughed and looked at me over his shoulder. “I didn’t call you one. Your fiancé did.”

“And what kind of hero are you if you’re going to defend my honor while ostracizing me for loving only you?”

“I was merely observing what was going on in this story, Luce. I wasn’tostracizing you.”

“Fine.” I was already over it anyway.

We went back to our respective affairs and it was quiet save for the spoon scraping against the carton and pages being flipped.

I stared at Kale’s hunched back and thought about whether or not I should quit before I started showing. At this point I couldn’t eventhink about telling him without that horrible clenching of my gut and heart.

In the middle of musing if I should just pretend to go away for college, Kale spoke.

“Are you feeling better?” I looked up surprised, not realizing that I had been zoning out for a while.

Realizing he was referring to my horrible, horrible day last week, I quickly nodded. “Oh, yeah. Sorry I was such a mess.”

He smiled softly. “It’s alright. As long as you’re doing okay now.”

I bit my lip and wondered how I was so lucky to know someone like Kale. Then, I wondered how I was so unlucky to screw up with someone like Kale. “Yeah, I’m definitely better now.”

“How was your weekend?”

I dropped the spoon into the container and threw it in the trash. “Um, I didn’t do much. But my brothers and sister came down unexpectedly last night.”

Kale looked surprised. “All of them?”

“Mhm.”

“What’s the occasion?”

Besides their uncanny knowledge of having the worst (maybe best, but I wouldn’t think of it as that) timing ever, why did they all come down this week?

“I have no idea,” I answered. “But Casey announced that she was pregnant at dinner last night. But no one knew she even had any news. I don’t think my parents were even expecting her.”

Kale smiled. “That’s great!” I calculated his smile and wondered if he looked genuinely happy because of my sister having a baby, or if he really liked the idea of pregnancies.

I smiled and nodded because it really was great that Casey was having a baby. “Yeah, I’m really happy for her. It’s about time my parents got a grandchild.” Er, grandchildren?

Before Kale could reply Norman voiced his return as he walked back through the doorway. “Alright let’s do this shit.” He unceremoniously dropped the box below Kale’s elevated feet and leaned against the counter across from me. “So, I’m thinking about getting a new tat. It’s been what, six months?”

Kale shook his head and jumped off the counter. “You shouldn’t base your tattoo acquisition on the time in between each, Norman.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying. I want to fill this space.” He cradled his arm and I leaned over to look at the wide space above his elbow.

“What were you thinking of getting?”

He sighed deeply as if the mention of a tattoo was too much to dwell over. “I don’t know. Do you want to choose it for me?”

With raised eyebrows I asked, “Seriously?”

Norman nodded and glanced at his arm. “Why not? If you choose something dumb then it won’t be that noticeable.”

I glared at his distrust in my aesthetics. “Thanks. Can I put my name on your arm?”

“As if seeing you isn’t scary enough.” At my steady glare he laughed. “Kidding. I trust you to not put anything funky on me.”

“Well, since I don’t want a tattoo on me anytime soon, I can live vicariously through you!”

Norman grabbed a stack of books and moved to a bookshelf. “I’m getting it done this Friday after work.”

“Can I come?” I asked, craving that sense of normalcy and fun I had before I dramatized my life. Granted, I rarely hung out with Norman and Kale outside of work, but I missed their laid back vibes. And I should take credit for wanting to be around Kale. I just can’t help it; my attraction to Kale got me in this mess in the first place.

“Yeah, we’ll leave after we close,” Norman was saying and I smiled at him.

Kale came to grab more books and I turned my smile on him. “Are you coming with us, Kale?”

He nodded and cocked his head towards Norman’s crouched form. “I need to protect you from Norman’s bad influence.”

“What bad influence?!” Norman cried from his seat in front of the bottom shelf and when he pinned his look at me I merely shrugged. “Lucy knows better than to follow my example. You’re coming anyway. You need to drive.”

Kale frowned and dropped more books at his side. “Yeah sure Norman, I love being defaulted to drive you everywhere.”

“You said you were coming. No need for spiffy complaints.” Norman looked at me. “Are you working Friday?”

I swiveled my schedule in my head and what came up was a big neon sign illuminating the words Prenatal Exam. My mom called this afternoon and informed me that she had scheduled my first appointment, thus cementing her first motherly involvement in my pregnancy.

“Yeah. If I get dropped off here can you bring me home?”

“Will do,” Kale answered from his station behind some bookshelf.

I sat back and picked up the drama we had yet to perform. “When am I going to witness this seat-gripping duel between you guys?”

Norman stood up and whipped the book from his back pocket. “Prepare your weapon, Kale!”

Kale looked around the end of the bookshelf. “What weapon? And are you finished shelving those books? Come on Norman!”

Norman threw his arms out. “Come on Kale! What, are you too scared to get into a little brawl avec moi?” He proceeded to do some come-and-get-me gesture that was sure to distress Kale into provocation. His French threw the impression of intimidation way off.

In any case, Kale decided to play along and emerged from the bookshelf with his book pointing at Norman, annoyed and heroic face in place. “Oh, it’s on.”

“Wait! I’m in this scene, right?”

Norman dismissingly said, “All you do is cheer on Kale.”

“So?” I answered. “You’re fighting over me!”

Kale opened the book. “It’s on page 175, Luce.”

“Thank you, Kale.” I turned to the page and found the start of their scuffle. And what do ya know? My character starts if off. “Norman you freak, you start fighting after I say something!”

“Fine! Start!”

I ignored his persistence and read my line, prompting the fight between the two raving men.

The majority of the fight was verbal, as we had no room to accommodate for any physical tussle, but it was funny watching Norman and Kale read their actions. I ultimately had little say throughout the duration, but I had a lot to laugh at.

As predicted, Kale overcame the brief trouncing and put Monsieur DuPont in the ringer, winning the battle and subsequently, me—um, my character, that is. I guess Norman just really enjoyed reading the fight because when they finished the action sequence he was grinning stupidly . . . as always.

The parts after the big climactic fight scene were the lovey dovey stuff that I was really glad neither Kale nor Norman wanted to read. After Norman’s dramatized finale, they returned the books to their proper niche in the Romance section along with the rest of the Fabio-covered paperbacks and went back to work.

By six Bailey had finished everything in the back and our clientele had risen to about 1 customer per half hour. I was glad I had something to do besides stealing ogling glances at Kale’s back. Norman kept giving me his own looks which I opted to ignore, most of the time.

I stayed to help shelve the rest of the books after closing, so by 7:30 Norman, Kale, Bailey, and I were shutting off the lights and locking the door.

I hugged Bailey. “See you Wednesday.”

She patted my back. “Have a good night Luce.” She turned to the boys. “You two walk Lucy to her car.”

I laughed. “It’s not even dark! And my car’s right next to Kale’s,” I pointed out.

Norman slung his arm around me as we walked to the parking lot. “So you don’t have a hot date with your boyfriend Friday?”

I elbowed his spleen. “Mind your own business.”

“Thisis my business. It’s my tattoo you’re picking,” he retorted. His business regarding my relationship with my boyfriend was nonexistent.

“He has a lacrosse game that afternoon and no, I’m not that girlfriend who cheers her boyfriend on at every game he plays.”

He shook his head sadly. “I can say what other girlfriend you’re not.”

“Don’t.”

“Norman,” Kale said from behind us, “leave Lucy alone. Her relationship is not yours to pick at.”

Having performed their duty of walking me to my car, Norman smiled and gave me a hug. “I’m just looking out for her.”

Norman did have the right interest, if I looked past his opinionated comments. I mean, why would I refuse someone who believes that Kale and I should get together? I smiled at him. “Thanks Norman. It is sweet of you, kind of.”

Norman looked over the top of the car at Kale. “You hear that? It’s kind of sweet of me. I don’t see you looking out for Lucy’s romantic interest.”

I blushed and opened my car door, preparing for an impromptu dash in case this conversation swerved into unknown territory, i.e. Norman’s observant knowledge. Kale rolled his eyes at Norman. “That’s because I know better than tell Lucy who she can or can’t date. She knows how to make her own decisions, Norman.” Then, Kale smiled apologetically at me. “Sorry Lucy, Norman’s being an idiot.”

I waved my hand. “I know.”

Kale nodded and this time his smile halted my heart. “Alright, we’ll let you go now.”

I returned his smile. “Have a good night.” I ducked down into my car and started it.

Norman, who was already inside,— it was perfectly convenient that they had the same schedule today and had the ability to carpool—waved at me. I rolled down my window and waved back at him.

“Goodnight loser.”

He saluted me with a wink as Kale backed the car out of the parking spot. I waited until they left before leaving, giving me time to reassess my day. Ultimately, being around Kale wasn’t as destructive as I thought it would be, since I liked to over-dramatize my feelings into big beasts that ate my brain and caused my body to react according to their own twisted functions.

I patted my stomach and wished I could believe that things would stay this marginally easy until I figured things out. The growling happily decided otherwise, promising more hunger strikes and a baby that would make his/herself known soon enough, thus complicating things into a cataclysm that pointed all blame to yours truly.