Page 58 of Friend Zoned

He nods after each question. “If it’s a girl, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t be a girl dad.” He covers his face again. “This will be karma.”

I chuckle and tap his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Seth,” I say again, almost believing it this time. “Kids need to feel safe. If they feel safe, they’ll feel loved. Remember that. And you’re getting ahead of yourself. You still have a paternity test to take.”

He runs his hands over his face and through his short blonde hair. He takes a deep breath and expels it. “You’re right. Thanks, Coach. Do you have anything to eat?” He opens my fridge and starts to dig around, pulling out containers. I turn on the TV in the kitchen and continue watching the game. “Mind if I make myself an omelet?”

“Knock yourself out,” I tell him. He grabs veggies from my fridge. I tune him out and focus on the game until I hear the front door open and close.

“Jeannie?” I yell.

“It’s me.” I leave the kitchen and nearly collide with her in the hallway. I lift her off her feet and give her a kiss. “It was a slow day, and our general manager was there. He said I could go early.” She gets on her toes and kisses me again. While I help her with her coat, Wakowski drops something in the kitchen, and whatever it is crashes on the floor. Jeannie looks at me, clearly surprised. Then her eyes narrow and she walks away from me and goes into the kitchen.

His back is to her, and he’s chopping something on the cutting board while whistling. Her shoulders sag in relief when she sees him. I arch an eyebrow at her.

“So, guess what?” she says, ignoring the almost seven-foot man in the kitchen.

“So, we’re going to ignore what just happened? I know what you were thinking.” She blushes and looks away. I put a finger under her chin. “I would never do anything to jeopardize this.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I promised I wouldn’t bring my past into this relationship, and I mean it. Forgive me?”

I rest my forehead on hers. “Forgiven.”

“You know how we’re unlocking all these levels in our relationship?” I look down at her and nod. “Well, I’m taking you home with me today for dinner.” She looks into my eyes expectantly, but I can see some nervousness in her expression.

“We’re flying through these levels.” I take her in a hug. “I can’t wait to see where you grew up.” She relaxes in my arms. “And maybe me and your mom can finally put the tension behind us.”

She looks up, and her eyes light up with mischief. “Oh? I didn’t realize you and Myra had tension.”

“We do. She tried to introduce you to every man at the wedding when I was sitting right there. There’s big time tension. Families have gone to war for generations over less.”

She presses her body into mine and says, “In that case, I dare you to bring it up to her. My money’s on her.”

“Oh, I will. Just wait and see.”

“Okay. We leave in an hour, so I’m going to shower and change. I’ll let you deal with your guest.” Just as she says the words, Wakowski’s whistling stops and he turns around. His footsteps stall when he sees Jeannie. Then he smiles, comes over, and offers her his hand.

“I’m Seth,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Jeannie.”

I wait for him to say something childish and immature, but he surprises me when he says, “Do you want an omelet?”

“Um, thanks, but we’re going to my parents’ for dinner.” She cranes her neck and looks at the cutting board. “It smells good, so maybe next time.” He nods and she walks away.

“Clean up after yourself when you’re done,” I tell him.

“You have any avocados?” He opens my fridge and starts to rummage. I ignore his question and turn back to the game.

Chapter 34

Aiden

I pull up in front of a duplex in Canarsie. It’s a quiet street in a middle-class Brooklyn neighborhood. Jeannie lets out a breath and grabs my hand.

“Do they know about me?” I ask her.

“They’re about to find out,” she says. “Don’t worry. My family is very hospitable and welcoming. They have an open-door policy.” I open my door and step out. Once I have hers open, I offer her my hand and help her out of the car.

From the other side of the door, I hear a loud television. I also hear her mother’s loud voice, speaking in another language. With her hand still in mine, she pushes the front door open. The first thing I notice is how good the house smells. I don’t remember the last time I went home for a family dinner and smelled food cooking. I don’t know what our chef does when I visit, but there’s never an aroma. We walk into the house. It’s neat but cluttered. The furniture is dark along with the mahogany hardwood floors and staircase that lead to the upstairs.

---