Page 80 of The Thinnest Air
Ronan chuckles. “Isn’t he?”
“Ugh. He’s a walking, talking cliché. A pompous good ol’ boy.” I shudder when I think of his bulbous belly, that smug smirk, and that untouchable attitude. “Is he any good?”
Ronan lifts one shoulder. “Blew out his back years ago and took a desk job. He’s been around forever. Kind of does the bare minimum.”
“Great.”
He switches lanes, checking his mirror and readjusting his posture. I’m not sure how long we’ve been driving yet, but I don’t want to think about how many more arduous minutes we have to spend staring at long stretches of gray highway.
“Bixby’s worthless.” There’s a slight rasp in his throat when he says the name. “But you’ve got me.”
CHAPTER 35
MEREDITH
Ten Days Ago
Two pink lines, the promise of parenthood, and a mile-wide smile on my husband’s face—that’s what makes this ordinary Monday extraordinary.
I spent the morning on the phone, making doctors’ appointments and dinner reservations for a celebratory date night this Friday, and when I wasn’t daydreaming about baby names and nursery colors, I managed to put together a grocery list.
It’s our week with the kids, which means I’m picking them up from school today, and they’re going to expect a full pantry’s worth of assorted snacking options. Erica also requests that the children not eat takeout more than once per week; I suspect she’s becoming preoccupied with Isabeau’s inability to shed the baby fat she’s been hanging on to since childhood.
There’s an eating disorder waiting to happen there, but God forbid I chime in with my two cents.
Tearing a sheet of paper from my notebook, I scribble a few names just for fun.
Jameson Andrew Price.
Poppy Wren Price.
Serena Greer Price.
Emmett Ambrose Price.
Crumpling the paper, I toss it in the trash, buried at the bottom, where Andrew won’t find it. I don’t want him to think I’m being silly, and it’s still so early. Getting my hopes up is dangerous.
Rising, I fold my grocery list and slip it in my purse before grabbing my keys and tugging my suede boots over my jeans. Seems like an hour ago I was staring at a positive pregnancy test and kissing my husband goodbye, and now suddenly it’s early afternoon. Somehow I’ve lost several hours today, though I’m not sure what I did with them.
Daydreams do that, I suppose.
Climbing into my car a minute later, I head toward the grocery store and park in the back of the lot. Andrew is a stickler about door dings, and despite the rest of the Glacier Park population sharing the same sentiments, he still prefers that I park “away from everyone else.”
Killing the engine, I check my texts and almost call my sister to share the news, but something gives me pause. She’s been a little more distant lately, ever since I offered to bail out her business. It killed her to accept the help, but she wasn’t in a position to say no, and I’m going to be coming into all this money that I’ll have no use for—at least not in the short term.
Darkening my phone screen, I decide to wait until we at least have a heartbeat and a due date. Maybe I’ll text her a picture of the sonogram when the time comes. Or surprise her in the city with a cheesy T-shirt she’ll never wear that says WORLD’SCOOLESTAUNT.
My mouth draws into a curve when I think about the kind of aunt Greer will be. She’s never been baby crazy or one to so much as talk about wanting a family someday, but what people don’t realize is she’s nothing but fluff on the inside. It’s why she’s so hard on the outside. Greer’s personality is her armor. Inside she’s nothing but love, and she’s got an enormous amount to give. Someone just needs to crack her impossibly hard shell so we can pour it out of her.
I’m about to put my phone away when a tap on my window followed by a dark shadow sends my heart into my throat. Glancing up, I exhale when I see the familiar face; I place a palm over my chest to throttle the errant beats. Opening my door, I climb out and straighten my jacket.
“You scared me,” I say. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
And then everything goes dark.
CHAPTER 36
GREER
