Surprise Delivery(47)

“I really appreciate the offer, Brad, I just –”

He holds up his hand to cut me off again. “You don’t have to answer me now,” he interjects. “I just wanted to throw it out there as another option. Just think about it.”

I nod. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” I say. “Thank you.”

“I’d do anything for you, Lexi,” he tells me. “You should know that by now.”

The way he says it makes me a little nervous. It doesn’t sound to me like one friend offering another friend some help. To me, it kind of sounds like the sort of offer made with some strings attached. With some implicit understanding that more than the money would be owed.

Brad just smiles at me, not giving any sense that he means anything other than to be a friend and be helpful to me. Which makes me try to fight off the feeling. I’m so jaded and skeptical of everything these days that I see hidden meanings that aren’t really there. I catch myself doing it all the time. Maybe he really is just trying to be a good friend and I’m just being a paranoid bitch. It wouldn’t be the first time and it’s probably not going to be the last.

“You’re lucky,” he says, looking at my belly with a longing in his eyes.

“I don’t feel so lucky,” I reply with a laugh. “I feel like a beached manatee.”

He smiles. “Oh, I’ve just always dreamed of having a family of my own,” he confides, his tone a little sad. “The house, the kids, the whole enchilada. I don’t know that I’m ever actually going to have that though. Not sure it’s in the cards for me in this life.”

That longing in his eyes is what gets me. It sets off warning bells in my head because I’m pretty sure I know exactly what he’s dancing around the edges of. This isn’t me being my normal jaded and skeptical. Not this time. This is me being able to read him well enough to know what’s going through his head. In his mind, he’s picturing him, me, and the baby – the instant family he’s always wanted.

“Hey, you’ll find somebody,” I say quickly, trying to deflect. “Oh, which reminds me. I almost forgot. I’ve got a girlfriend who’s dying to meet you after I told her all about you.”

That light of longing in his eyes suddenly vanishes. It’s as if he suddenly realized what he was transmitting and moved quickly to squash it.

“Me?” he asks as he struggles to find a smile. “You told her about me?”

I nod. “Of course you,” I laugh. “You’re a great guy, Brad. You’ll make a great catch. You have a lot to offer a woman.”

“That’s really sweet of you to say,” he says.

I shrug. “It’s just the truth,” I reply. “Anyway, her name is Charlotte. She’s amazing and I know you’re going to love her as much as I do.”

He gives me a gentle laugh that sounds absolutely wooden. “Well, if she’s anything like you, I’d be happy to meet her.”

“She’s better than me,” I answer. “And, she has the added bonus of not being so pregnant she’s about to burst.”

He laughs again and this time it sounds more genuine. And just like that, the awkward tension that had been threatening to descend over us lifts and we’re suddenly just a couple of friends having a laugh again and I let out a silent breath of relief.

Crisis averted.

For now.





The crowded streets are something I most certainly didn’t miss about this city. But at least I can walk these streets without having to worry about getting blown up by some lunatic. Even still, I can’t deny that there’s a vibrancy to the city. A frenetic energy that can be intoxicating. New York is unlike almost any other place in the world.

I realize now, as I walk down the sidewalk, weaving through and around the pedestrians, that maybe it’s something I always took for granted.

I stop in a small bodega I’m familiar with to pick up a few things before heading back to my condo. I step through the door and smile as I see Max, the bodega cat, scampering across the floor, playing with some tinsel toy. Some things don’t change, I’m glad to see.

“Doctor Clyburne,” a familiar voice calls from behind the counter. “Damn, man, it’s been a minute.”

“Edwin,” I smile. “Good to see you.”

Edwin is the owner/operator of the bodega. He’s in his late fifties, is tall and lanky, and has short, dark hair, and dusky-colored skin. He’s been in the neighborhood longer than I can remember, but his voice still retains that distinct Cuban flair.

I reach out and shake his hand. “Where have you been?” he asks.

“Overseas doing some work,” I say. “Just got back from Syria.”

His eyebrows raise. “Syria?” he asks. “Hell of a ways away.”

I nod. Apparently bored with his tinsel toy, Max jumps up on the counter and stares at me, so I reach out and scratch the top of his head. He leans into my hand, his purring loud enough to hear.

“How’s business?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Can’t complain,” he says. “Steady as she goes, you know.”

“About all you can ask for.”

“Indeed, my friend. Indeed. Good to have you back.”

I give him a nod and the cat a final scratch, then turn and start to gather the items I came for. When I’ve got them all, I take them back up to the counter and make a little small talk with Edwin before heading back out onto the street.