Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(20)

I smiled. “Those are some serious big-ass sunglasses, man.”

“The king doesn’t mess around when it comes to eyewear.” He held out his hand to Natasha. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Andre.”

“Natasha.” She gave it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Natasha is a friend of Rosie’s,” I supplied. “And Natasha, this is our neighbor, Jean. We all live in the Bird Building above the bar.”

Jean murmured hello.

“Well now, don’t you look nice,” I said. “Very fishy. But like, in the right way. Not slimy fishy. Or suspiciously fish. Glamorous fishy.”

Her smile widened. “Thanks. I dig your hair.”

I turned my head so my braids swung about. “Getting a lot of compliments about the ’do. Think I’ll have to wear it like this more often.”

“Anyway … I was just going to grab myself a juice.”

“I can get that for you.”

“No, I don’t want to interrupt,” she said, the smile slipping from her face. “You and Natasha were talking.”

“It’s fine.” Getting drinks was my thing, after all.

With an army of red Solo cups waiting on the counter and the fridge fully stocked, I handed her a drink in no time. Andre and Natasha started chatting. Talking about town, their favorite Frida Kahlo paintings, shit like that. The man was being his usual super-smooth and friendly self. He pretty much had the market cornered on nice guy vibes. His boyfriend-material ranking had to be pushing eleven. It normally would have bothered me, but the strain in Jean’s smile worried me more.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. Couldn’t be better.” She took a sip of her drink. “How have you been?”

“Busy, you know.”

“Right.”

“Yeah, really busy. Work and stuff.”

“Okay. I’d wondered if you’d been away or something,” she said. “I hadn’t seen you around…”

“What, you think I’ve been hiding from you or something?” I laughed a little too loudly. Shit. “Anyway, how are you? You’ve been good?” Dammit. I’d already asked that.

“Sure. Very good.”

I nodded.

“So, aren’t you going to tell me I look like I swallowed Saturn or something?”

“Certainly not,” I protested. “The Atlantic maybe, but not Saturn. It wouldn’t fit the fish theme you’ve got going on.”

“He better not say anything,” said Andre, rejoining the conversation. “You look absolutely wonderful. Glowing and then some.”

My friend needed to go away. But the look Jean gave him in response to his compliment was more sibling style than anything. Not romantic. Or at least, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. It better not be. For heaven’s sake, the woman had enough on her plate without Andre trying to suck up and get into her pants. Because of course my concern was solely about her.

“Of course she looks wonderful,” I muttered. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that.”

“When are you due?” asked Natasha, bypassing the weirdness.

“Another month.” Jean sighed. “I can’t wait.”

“Make sure you put your feet up and get lots of sleep while you can. My sister, Isla, had her first almost six months ago,” said Natasha. “I don’t think she’s had a minute’s rest since.”

Jean’s eyes brightened. “Congratulations on becoming an auntie.”

“Thanks.” Natasha slipped a cell out of her pocket and pulled up a picture of a cute little kid with jelly or something smeared over his face. “His name is Henry.”

“How sweet.”

“Only a month to go. Wow,” she said, her gaze taking in Jean and Andre. The cell disappeared back into her pocket. “You both must be so excited.”

Andre’s mouth opened, but Jean got there first. “No. We’re not together. I’m going to be a single parent.”

“You’re doing it alone?” Natasha’s eyes widened. “I hope you have lots of help.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Fine? Forget that. You’ll be great.” I grabbed a ghost-shaped cookie off a plate on the counter and took a bite.

“I guess so.” Natasha did not look convinced. “But Isla has her wife, who is very supportive, and they’re still struggling. Henry has trouble settling at night and some days it seems like he cries nonstop. There’s nothing wrong with him, he’s a perfectly normal baby. They were just totally unprepared for the amount of work involved. And the lack of sleep.”

I gulped down some beer, watching Jean out of the corner of my eye.

“Honestly, I don’t know how they stay sane,” she continued. “Isla said she went three days without a shower, just because she couldn’t find the time and energy. It kind of restores my faith in humanity that so many people get through it, raise emotionally and physically healthy children, and actually go back for more.”

“Oh, I agree. It’s big, having a baby, becoming a parent.” Jean stroked her belly. “Huge, really. But I’m looking forward to it.”