Page 3 of For Fox Sake

Her mouth twists. “It’s Samantha.”

“Right, sorry. How are you?”

“We’re doing great, actually.” Samantha rests her left hand on her lower stomach to show off the flashing diamond engagement ring, her smile widening. “We’re expecting.”

My mouth pops open and I snap it shut. “Wow. That’s, that’s great. Congratulations.”

Samantha’s smirk is smug. She didn’t miss my initial reaction, and she probably thinks I’m jealous.

This doesn’t hurt in the way she thinks it does. I’m way over Shane. Even though we were together for years, we’ve been over longer than we were together.

He’s grinning down at her, and it’s just... so weird.

Samantha yaps on and on, about how they are trying to maintain a healthier diet now that she’s eating for two, how they have a doctor’s appointment next week, how they’re already picking out baby names and she likes Darcy for a girl and Toby for a boy.

I nod and tune out.

Shane puts an arm around her shoulders and gazes down at her like she’s the most interesting person alive.

He used to look at me the same way. In public, anyway. Shane puts on this act like he’s this fun-loving, great guy, attentive and sensitive. Every time we see him, he insists Ari call him “uncle” since he “was there when she was born.” While he may have been physically present, he was a complete asshat. He refused to help me with any of Ari’s care, even though we were living together, my only sister had just died, and I was drowning in grief.

Honestly, they’re perfect for each other.

“I’m really happy for both of you. It was so nice to chat. We have to run though. We’re kind of in a hurry.”

“We have crabs,” Ari pipes up.

I laugh awkwardly and shrug as we’re walking away. “Kids say the funniest things.”

Five minutes later, we’ve finished a frenzied race through the store for the basics to last the next few days and then we get in line. We’re behind three people with full carts. Two more quickly fall into place behind us.

Only one register open on a Friday night. Of course.

After interminable minutes standing in line while I try to distract and entertain Ari, it’s finally our turn.

“That will be twenty-three forty-five,” the cashier says, after scanning the last item in our basket.

I reach into my purse and dig around, my fingers encountering my phone, the car keys, a travel-size pack of tissues, Chapstick, a bag of almonds, and hand sanitizer.

Frowning, I tug the bag from my shoulder and peer inside.

My fingers are not deceiving me.

No wallet.

“Shit.”

“That’s a bad word,” Ari tells me.

“Sorry, baby. Um, I think I left my wallet in the car.” I turn to the cashier, a teenager with bright green streaks in her hair. She’s chewing gum and eyeballing the ever-growing line behind me.

“Can I run out real quick and check?” My face is so hot right now it might burst into flames like the head of a struck match.

I can’t believe this is happening.

When did I last use my wallet? Was it earlier when I paid for lunch during my terrible date? Or maybe it fell out when I was answering my phone. Maybe it’s in the car somewhere. What am I going to do if I can’t find it? I’m going to have to take Ari with me while I’m searching everywhere, all while she asks me why a thousand more times, and if I can’t find it?—

“I’ve got this.” A deep voice behind me breaks through my racing thoughts. A tanned and toned forearm reaches across the register and hands a plastic card to the cashier.

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