Page 134 of Last Call

“How was Fallon?”

“She’s Fallon,” Andi said.

“I hope she’ll be okay if things don’t…”

“It will happen when it’s meant to happen, like everything else.”

“Want to take advantage of nap time?” Billie flirted.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Absolutely.”

Andi moved close and nuzzled Bille’s neck, then stepped back.

“What?”

Andi bit her lip.

“What?” Billie asked.

“You have baby poop on your shoulder.”

“No. I…”

Andi raised her brow.

Billie looked down and groaned. “How does he do that?”

“Give him to me,” Andi said. “And take a shower.”

“You can meet me in there,” Billie suggested.

“I’ll be up in a minute.”

Andi chuckled and kissed her grandson’s head. “What are you doing to Grandma?”

The baby stretched and then—Wail!

Billie tossed a look back from the top of the stairs. “Round two, it is.”

Barb trotted across the gravel lot, squinting against the late-afternoon glare. Inside Pete’s garage, the blended scent of motor oil, brake dust, and stale coffee filters reminded her of watching her father tinker with his motorcycle.

She told herself she was here for one thing only—her car.

Her heart ticked up a beat as she eased the side door open.

Pete peeked up from under the hood of an old Subaru. “Hey, Doc. Here for your wheels?”

Barb grinned. No one called her "Doc" outside of a few students except Pete. "Unless you're looking for a new tow truck driver."

Pete laughed. “All set—sensor’s swapped, diagnostics clear. You’re good to roll.”

She nodded, fighting off a flicker of disappointment. The back office window was empty.

“Great,” she said, fishing for her wallet. “I’ll settle up and...”

The office door creaked open.

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