Page 63 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
“So, there’s no one else?” I finally ask, fiddling with my apron strings. I watch his face intently. Waiting for any sign that he might be lying.
He shakes his head. I can see the hurt in his eyes, it mirrors mine, but his eyes are honest.
This is the man I loved.I still love him. And now that he’s here with me, I have to find the courage to tell him my secret. To see if we can make it work.
I’ve imagined this scene in my mind. In my imaginings, I always knew what to say, the right thing to do. But now… I’m at a loss for words. What do I say? And if I figure out what to say, how do I even get the words out?
“Can we sit down to talk?” Austin motions toward the seating area of the Café. “I think we’d both be more comfortable.”
I grab the baby monitor from the kitchen and lead him to a table in the corner where it’s cozier, and I can run upstairs easily if Grace wakes up early.
I blurt the first question on my mind once we’re seated. “So, who answered your phone and told me you moved on?”
Austin situates himself, one hand on his thigh the other on the table. “When did you call?” He puts his phone on the table, like it’s a piece of evidence to show he’s not lying.
“It was on New Year's Eve. It was one of the few times I actually found the courage to call you.”
He sighs, shakes his head and runs a hand through his unruly curls. “It was Beccca. She grabbed my phone while I was at a New Years Eve Party.”
“Oh.” I gulp. “Who is Becca?” The words are so quiet that I can’t tell if I spoke them or thought them. And how close was this girl that she was grabbing his phone? The questions must be somewhat evident on my face.
Austin leans forward, his eyes locked with mine. “I was at a party, she’d been chasing me for so long.” His shoulders lift, then fall. “I’ve known her since middle school. But, I wouldn’t give in. Not even back when we were in school together. Anyway, she was high and drunk when I got there and she took my phone from my coat when she tripped and I tried to keep her from face planting.”
“Are you-” I feel like there’s a cupcake stuck in my throat, but I force myself to finish the question, “dating her?”
He shakes his head vehemently. “Never, Rae. Never.” He crosses his legs. Then he uncrosses them. Looks down at the floor then back up at me. Is he crying? He almost seems angry. I’ve pushed the questioning too far. He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Rae. I wish we'd talked sooner. I just didn’t know where we stood after,” he shrugs his shoulders and his cheeks redden, “what happened.”
I can’t hide my tears. One slides down my cheek and rests on the edge of my lip. I fling it away with my hand. I have to tell him. Somehow.
Maybe, I’ll just show him.
I stand up and rub my clammy hands down my jeans. I head to the front door and turn the lock and flip theopensign toclosed.
“Follow me.” I make a motion with my hand. “I need to show you something.”
God, give me strength.
Austin follows me as I head toward the back room.
I grab the stair rail and slowly make my way up the steps.
Chapter 30
Austin - The Present
She’scurvierthanbefore,and more beautiful than ever. I’ve been tongue tied since I stepped into the café. I’ve dreamed of seeing her. Rehearsed the moment a thousand times in my mind. But it’s so different now that it’s actually happening. I can’t tear my eyes from watching her as she glides up the steps.
The upstairs of the café is a small apartment. I knew it was here, but I’ve never been up here, and had no clue she was living up here. She opens the door to the apartment and I can hear the white noise from her little monitor thing louder up here.
My heart is stuttering in anticipation. I’m fairly certain of what she plans to show me. But there’s still doubts in my mind. Maybe she’s got a boyfriend stashed up here that she wants me to meet. But I would think she’d have invited him downstairs to meet me instead of bringing me up to him. Maybe he’s a disabled guy who can’t go downstairs. But then, how would he get upstairs?
She crosses the spotless living room toward a closed door. She turns, her blue-gray eyes watching me expectantly. The living room and kitchen are spotless, I can’t find a baby toy, or baby furniture anywhere. So maybe the baby my mom saw wasn’t hers?
Sweat is beading my forehead under my hair and I’m so tempted to lift my arm and wipe it away.
“Come on. There’s someone you need to meet.”
My heart starts racing. It has to be the baby.Please, God let it just be a baby.
