Best Friend's Secret Baby - Page 7

MACK

Sunny’s acting weird,but she doesn’t want to open up to me, so I’m not going to push it. Sort of feel like I’m on edge around her these days, which pisses me off. We never used to be like this, and I don’t know why things have changed now. It makes me uneasy. Taking her home is a twofer for me. First, it will get my parents off my neck but second, Mom can sometimes get things out of Sunny that I can’t. My parents have been standing in as parents for Sunny ever since her folks passed away years ago.

“We’re here,” I holler as I gently push Sunny over the threshold. She takes a deep breath and pats her stomach as if she’s got a sudden onset of nerves. Like I said, weird.

“You okay?” I question quietly. “Your tummy upset?”

Her eyes shoot down to where her palm is resting and then quickly up to me. Something like guilt suffuses her face, and her hand drops away right quick. “N-no. Why would you ask that?”

I narrow my gaze. “You’re sick, aren’t you?” I press a hand to her forehead. She feels sort of warm, and she looks flushed. “Mom, I’m taking Sunny back home. I think she caught a flu bug. Maybe COVID.”

Sunny knocks my hand away. “I’m not sick.”

“Let me get a rapid test.” Mom comes bustling out of the kitchen, a frilly green apron decorated with apples. “Your dad picked up two more at the pharmacy the other day when he was getting his blood pressure medication. You can never have too many.”

She catches Sunny’s wrist and leads her over to the sofa in the living room. “Sit. You”—she points at me—“go get a test. There are some in the guest bathroom.”

“No, I’m really sure it’s not the flu or COVID,” I hear Sunny faintly protest.

“You never know. Besides, we have so many tests now. Richard can’t seem to stop buying them, and since I’m healthy as a horse, the stockpile is not decreasing. You’re going to make him feel so good by taking one. Trust me.”

“What’s going on?” Dad booms. I grab a test from the medicine chest where, as Mom had been saying, there was a stockpile.

“Sunny might have COVID,” calls Mom. “Mack is bringing a test.”

“I told you we would need those,” Dad declares. He folds his arms across his chest and watches smugly as Sunny obediently sticks the swab up her nose. Her eyes water, and she coughs slightly as she hands over the swab to Mom, who runs it over the testing unit.

“You lose your sense of smell or taste?” Dad wants to know.

“She threw up,” I volunteer.

Sunny glares at me as if I gave away a secret that only the two of us should know about.

“That’s probably the regular flu,” Dad surmises.

“She’s negative!” Mom holds up the test triumphantly.

“Great.” I clap my hands together. “You have a flu test for her?”

“She doesn’t feel feverish. Maybe you ate something you didn’t agree with?”

Sunny grabs on to that. “Yes. I think that’s what it was.”

I’m not so sure. “She fell asleep in the middle of Big Brother.”

“There was a lot of arguing. Listening to that wears a person out,” she says.

“It does, son,” Mom agrees. She gets up from the sofa and hands me the test. “Let’s eat, and if Sunny still feels down after getting some food in her, then we will put her to bed upstairs and I’ll watch her tomorrow. Come to the kitchen. I made chicken pot pie, and we don’t want it to get cold.”

“That sound delicious, Felicia.” Sunny gets up and follows Mom into the kitchen.

I pull Dad aside. “Does Sunny look off to you?” I ask.

“No. Not really, but I’ll keep an eye out during dinner.”

At the dinner table, Sunny digs in eagerly. All loss of appetite has disappeared along with most of the pot pie. Sunny has two servings as if to make up for the loss of yesterday’s meal. Mom brings out apple crisp and vanilla bean ice cream, and Sunny’s delighted moans hit me right in the dick.

“Everything okay at school, Sunny?” my dad asks as Sunny spoons out another scoop of ice cream.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because this one over here”—Dad jerks his fork in my direction—"was studying the termination policies yesterday at work.”

Sunny swivels to me, her spoon in hand, ice cream slowly melting on the metal. “You were? Why? Everyone that works there is awesome, including the new guy, Brian.” I clench my teeth together. “He’s friendly, and all the kids like him.”

“There you go.” Dad nudges me. “Everyone’s great. Stop looking for problems. How’s the London deal coming?”

“It’s done,” I reply curtly. “I’m moving on to the Finland one.”

“What’s in Finland?”

“Green energy and reforestation.”

“You should come and talk to my class about it,” Sunny suggests as she does every year.

“I’d rather be burned alive on top of a dozen solar panels,” I grumble.

“That’s our Mack.” Mom grins. “Ever the social butterfly. Always wanting to go out and meet new people, give lectures in front of dozens of students.” She reaches over and tweaks my cheek like I’m ten.

I sigh. Maybe this is why Sunny never looks at me like a man. She sees my own mother treat me like a boy. Or maybe it’s because I don’t speak at her class and she wants someone who is more outgoing. Is that it? Do I not fit her ideal man persona? Worry opens my mouth, and before I can stop myself, I say, “I’ll come next Monday.”

“You will?” Sunny’s jaw draws.

“You?”

“Our Mack?”

They all look at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“Yeah. Me. I’ll do it.” I’ve dug my own grave here. Guess I’ll go lie in it.

Tags: Ella Goode Romance
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