Page 85 of Act Like You Don't Care
“Don’t worry, I have extra,” she said. “Would you rather have your own?”
“No. This is way more fun.” So I ate all of Miles’s chicken, then finished off my potatoes before deciding that I’d better call it quits. Better safe than sorry, after all.
Miles and his father slumped back into the kitchen a few minutes later, looking exhausted. “They’ve gone home,” his father said, dropping into his chair.
“I’ll warm this up for you,” Miles’s mother said, taking his plate and holding out her hand for Miles’s.
He raised his eyebrows at the plucked bones on his plate, then handed it over. “Thank you.”
“She has extra,” I told him innocently.
“Good. I’m hungry.”
For a second I thought he was going to lean in to kiss me, but it was just my overheated imagination and I mentally slapped myself for getting too comfortable. This was co-parenting, nothing more. We were not in a relationship and I was going to be working every hour possible for the next few months. I needed to remember that or my hormones would start writing checks my schedule couldn’t cash.
“What happened?” Greta called from the kitchen.
“She smashed the windows out of his truck with one of the stones from the flowerbed,” Miles’s dad said. “Headlights too, windshield, put a good dent in the hood before he got hold of her. I gave him the car to take her home.”
She popped out of the kitchen with an alarmed expression. “Not my car!”
“No,” Miles said tiredly. “The other one.”
Greta stared doubtfully at him and I matched her expression, though mine was more confusion than anything else. Miles smiled at me and patted my hand where it lay on the table. “Sorry about that. Jim and I are going to have a discussion about boundaries.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. It gave your mom and me a chance to talk.”
“Oh?” Miles breathed, his eyes flickering toward the kitchen.
“It’s fine,” I repeated.
“Good,” he said, obviously relieved.
I felt my mouth curve into a smile, watched as his followed mine. It was a weird situation. Not necessarily a bad one, though. I could live with it.
Miles
Later that week, we had our first appointment with the obstetrician. Tam wore old clothes and had a cap pulled down over his hair, grown long and wild for the new movie. In my eyes, he already looked tired, but he was an adult and, somewhat to my relief, a little obsessive about the health of the baby.
Right now, sitting in the exam room, he was busy tapping away on his phone while I went through all the magazines in the rack in front of us, hoping for something that wasn’t six months old. When I finally admitted defeat, the corner of his mouth tilted up like he’d been watching me and knew exactly what had happened. I elbowed him gently and leaned over to peer at his screen. “What’s got you typing so much?”
“Online forum,” he said. “There’s a discussion on there about the movie. I try to keep an eye on them and sometimes I’ll answer a question if the studio okays it.” He tipped his screen in my direction to make it easier for me to read. “It’s good promo, for me and the movie.”
The door opened and the doctor came through. “Hello, gentlemen.” He held out a hand, first to Tam, then to me, before pulling over a stool and perching on it. “So, first baby, huh? Exciting!” He was small and dark, with bright eyes that seemed to see everything.
He had a good reputation in the city. Also, I might have done a background check on him while we were waiting for this appointment. Just in case. Can’t be too careful, right?
“Yes.” Tam nodded. “So, what do we do here?”
“Well, you signed the release form with your primary care physician, so I’ve already had a look at your chart. Are there many stunts or fight scenes in this movie?”
“Not for me. Part of my contract was dialing back on the rough stuff.” Tam leaned against me, then stiffened and sat up straight. “The studio wants a biweekly report from you, though, confirming that everything’s going well.”
“We can get you set up with appointments every two weeks going forward. I don’t need to see you personally for all of them, I don’t think. A simple blood test and checking your blood pressure will probably tell us as much as me looking you over would. And that way you won’t need to wait for me. If you start experiencing any discomfort, though, just let the nurse know when you pop by and she’ll come get me to have a peek.” He looked over at me. “And I take it you’re Dad.”
I nodded dumbly.
His eyes danced as he glanced back at Tam. “This is usually when it hits them.”
