Making His Baby(107)

"I swear to God you're taller," I say.

Zane laughs. "You're looking pretty good yourself," he says, pulling  back and looking me over. I feel my cheeks heating up with a blush and  look away with a laugh.

"You're just saying that because there's a breeze," I tell him. I pull  my robe around me even tighter. When I feel like I can meet his gaze  again, I look up into Zane's eyes. "So, happy to be back in town?"

"It's nice," Zane says. "The flight was a pain in the ass, though."

"Yeah, the drive was pretty tough too," I respond. It feels so awkward, but I can't say why. I can't even think about why.

"You came back into town just for my parents' anniversary?"

I shrug off Zane's question. "Well, I mean, they're practically my aunt  and uncle," I point out. "Almost a second set of parents."

"I don't think the army would let me off for your parents' anniversary,"  Zane says, sitting down on the grass. I hesitate for a moment and  decide to join him.

"I had the vacation time banked," I explain, "and besides which, it's better for me to take the time now than later."

"Why's that? Vacation's vacation, isn't it?"

"Not always," I say, grinning wryly. "In the publishing industry, at  least …  well, I guess for any job, there are better times and worse  times."

"Military's not that different," Zane says. "Ask for leave during  certain times of year and unless you've stayed on duty for over a year,  you're probably not going to get it granted."

"Makes sense," I say. "I was kind of surprised that you got leave at all."

"It's slow right now," Zane says. "Not a lot going on and I had leave coming."

"When was the last time you were in town?" I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

"I got a couple of days during Christmas," Zane says. I nod.

"I must have just missed you."

"Yeah, I think I remember your parents saying that you were about to  come into town, that you'd had some kind of deadline, but that was right  before I had to be back at base," Zane agrees.

"Seems like that's been happening a lot," I observe. "It's been what, like three, four years?"

"Almost five, I think," Zane replies. "I shipped out for basic about a year after high school."

"That's right!" I think about it for a minute or two. "Kind of weird that in all that time we kept missing each other."         

     



 

"It is, isn't it?" Zane shakes his head. "So, what's your life really like, up there in the big city?"

I laugh. "It's a lot like life here, actually," I tell him. "Except, you  know, a bigger chance of someone in my building getting robbed." I pick  a blade of grass and play with it between my fingers. "What's the army  like?"

"Pretty much what I thought it would be like," Zane says after a moment.  "I've made my way up the ranks a bit. I'm a specialist now, got my  certification last year."

"Making bank?" I grin at him.

Zane rolls his eyes. "Making more than I was making before," he says.  "But if it weren't for accommodations on base and food at the mess hall,  I'd be just about breaking even. What about you?"

"I'm making enough to stay afloat in Brooklyn, which is saying  something," I tell him with a grin. "But supposedly the publishing  company I'm working for is underpaying me a bit for my skills."

"What makes you say that?"

I shrug. "One of my friends who works for another publisher, doing  mostly the same thing I'm doing, is making about three thousand a year  more than me."

"Oof, that sucks," Zane says. "Any chance to talk them into bumping you up?"

I think about that. There's a possibility that I might be able to talk  the publisher I work for into upping my pay, but I'll have to wait for  that, at least for another couple of months. Once the big project is  over, I'll be in a position to ask for almost anything I want, as long  as I do a good job at it.

"Maybe," I tell him. "In the next couple of months, but not right now."

We chat like that for a while, and it feels weird, but at the same time  it actually kind of feels nice. I think about the different  conversations that Zane and I have had over the years, before we parted  ways, right in that same spot.

By the time I'm walking back to my house, yawning because it's almost  one in the morning, I think to myself that it was worth the little bit  of grief I got at the office for asking for an entire week off.

I walk back to my room and turn down the sheets in my bed, exhausted. I  know Mom and Dad will have me up early, helping the Lewises get ready  for the first big party of their anniversary blowout.

As I drift off, I think to myself that my mom wasn't all that wrong about Zane.





CHAPTER FOUR





ZANE LEWIS



As I get to the bottom of the stairs that morning, I can smell the eggs,  bacon and coffee in the kitchen. I went to bed the night before after  talking to Harper without even thinking about the leftover pot roast Mom  had told me about, so I woke up starving.

Dad's sitting at the table, and Mom's taking something out of the oven as I walk into the kitchen.

"Just in time, as always," Dad says with a smile.

"Never miss a meal," I tell him.

He gets up and hugs me real quick before gesturing for me to take my usual seat at the table.

"We've got bacon, eggs, coffee, fruit salad and muffins," Mom says. "If you can't find something to eat, you're not looking."

She brings muffins to the table along with the bacon. The eggs and fruit  salad are already there, and the three of us start eating.

"What's on the agenda for today?" I shovel a forkful of eggs into my  mouth and crunch some bacon with it. The mess hall on base is good, but  there's something about the way Mom does it.

"We need to finish getting the house ready," Mom says.

"Your mother practically wants to renovate before tonight's party," Dad tells me.

"I do not!" Mom throws a muffin at him and Dad catches it and takes a  bite. "Anyway, there's just the decorating to do. Nadine and Harper are  coming over to help in a little bit, too."

That piques my interest a little bit, even though I was kind of expecting it.

"When does the party start?" I know Mom probably told me before, but I  can't remember. My parents have so much going on for their anniversary  that it almost seems ridiculous.

"Starts at seven," Dad says.

"I've got some stuff prepped for food, but I'll need your help icing down the drinks and things, too," Mom tells me.

"I can do that," I say. I drink down some coffee, have some more eggs, bacon and another muffin. "What are we serving for food?"

"The usual stuff," Mom replies. "That veggie plate everyone loves, your  aunt is bringing her crab dip, Nadine agreed to make her salsa. Dad's  making his meatballs, and we'll have some other odds and ends that  people are bringing."         

     



 

"Your mom pre-made some kind of spinach pastry thing," Dad adds.

"How many people are you expecting?" It sounded like a lot of food, but I  knew by the end of the night it would probably be gone all the same, or  at least there would only be enough leftovers for us to snack on the  next day.

"Only about thirty-five for this one," Mom says. "The bigger party, for the whole neighborhood, is in a few days."

"Why do you need to have two parties?" I shake my head at that.

"We're actually having three," Dad says. "But the last one is just a dinner party with the Polsens."

"Why three parties again?" I look at both of my parents, finishing off the fruit salad on my plate.

"Because we wanted to make a big deal out of our twenty-fifth  anniversary," Mom says with a shrug. "Plus, not everyone could make it  tonight. We wanted to make sure we had at least one event that everyone  could come to."

"Why not make the big party the only one?" I grin. "I mean, unless you're hoping to get triple the presents or something."

"Because once we'd planned to have this one, we didn't want to abandon  it," Mom replies. "Besides, it's sort of a set-up, a pre-party for the  big one."

"I guess," I say with a shrug.

"Now that we've got the plans all laid out, how's your career going?" Dad refills his coffee mug.

"It's going well," I say. "I'm almost done with my term, so they're offering me the chance to reenlist."

"That's good to hear, they don't want to just shuffle you off," Dad says.

I shrug. "I'm a specialist, so a little more valuable than I was a year  ago," I tell him. "But ultimately they just don't want to get rid of  anyone they don't have to. Situation around the world's pretty tense, so  apart from grunts they're trying to hold onto people."