Page 63 of Waiting for Gilbert

When I lean forward to poke her in the side, she jerks her hand back and hops out of the way.

A quick rap on the door has me crossing my arms and leaning against the desk as Diana enters. “There you are.” She shoots me a disapproving glance and hikes Jack on her hip. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Not you.” Her hand waves a dismissal my direction. “You. Can you watch the kids Friday? Tomorrow? Nathan said he’d take me out for once in my life now that you’re here.”

“All six?” I interrupt.

“No, just the cat.” Diana huffs. “Yes, all six. But mostly the twins and Lisa. Lauren can manage Jack, and you won’t hear a peep from Landon.”

Cordelia shrugs. “Can’t tomorrow, but what about Saturday?”

“Or you watch them tomorrow and Nathan and I pick up Mark instead while we’re in the city.”

“Can’t. I have a date.”

“With who?” Diana and I speak together.

Cordelia straightens her shoulders. “Withwhomis nunya.” Her smile turns mischievous, and she wiggles her eyebrows. “Haha. Kidding. C’mere baby.” Jack leans for her, and Cordelia snuggles him. “David K., the home inspector. Should be riveting. Do you think Nathan would let me borrow one of his sweaters?”

I’ve heard enough. She has a ride home. I printed the music sheets for the song I’m almost finished with. John’s right. I can’t stay.

“See you girls later.”

They barely pause their discussion to acknowledge my exit.

25

CORDELIA

FAITH HILL—WHERE ARE YOU CHRISTMAS?

At the click of the door, Diana swoops in for the kill. “Just what do you think you’re doing in here? Closeted up alone? Sometimes I don’t understand you at all. You know better than this.”

“Secret secret club meeting. Stop hassling. We’re just friends.”

“You can’t do that. You can’t put yourself in situations like this.”

“Why not? You’re always two feet away. Nothing’s going to happen.” This is my office now and I pull out the spinny chair. “He doesn’t even like me.”

“Stop it. That’s not the point.”

“Then what’s the point? You trust me to babysit but not take care of myself?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Oh, good grief.” I consider telling her we slept together, but I’m not a monster. “What’s your problem?” I spin my chair in a circle so I can stick my tongue out.

“My problem is that you should know better. It’s highly inappropriate to be alone with a man who’s not your husband. Period. The end. It’s a simple rule that will keep you safe from harm, from accusations and misunderstandings. It’s just—just quit thinking you’re the exception.”

“Ok. You done?”

“Yes. So, Saturday? You and Mark could put the kids to bed while we go out?”

“Sure. I need a ride home tonight. Don’t leave me.”

“Got it.”

“What are the chances of Jack making a mess on my shirt in the next half-hour?”

“Twenty-thirty odds.”

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