Barefoot: A Novel

“That’s too bad.”

“Truly,” he said. “My father’s an air traffic control er. He sort of got me in there.”

“Oh,” Melanie said.

“I’m going to quit anyway,” Josh said. “Life’s too short.”

“I agree. That is, basical y, my mantra. But wil your father be mad?”

“He’l be mad,” Josh said. “But he can’t stop me.”

“Al right, then,” Melanie said. The road stretched out before them; to the left, across the moors, was a lighthouse, and beyond that, the ocean. “It’s beautiful here.”

Josh didn’t answer, and Melanie chastised herself for saying something so obvious. He probably heard it from tourists al the time: how lovely, how quaint, how pristine, how beautiful. She tried to think of something witty to say, something bright, something that would make him think she was

. . . cool. She had never been cool in her entire life, and she certainly wasn’t cool tonight. But she wanted Josh to believe she was worthy of the ride.

“I just found out I’m pregnant,” she said.

He looked at her quizzical y. “Real y?”

“Yeah.” She stared at her knees. She would never make it in the CIA. She had just shared the strictest secret with someone she barely knew. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tel anybody.”

He seemed puzzled by this, and Melanie would have laughed if she didn’t feel like such a horse’s ass. Who would he possibly tel ?

Stil , he humored her. “My lips are sealed, I promise,” he said. “You know yesterday, when you fel ? I thought your friend sounded pretty concerned. Overly concerned—about you, not her baby.”

“She worries about me,” Melanie said.

“Right,” he said. “But I wondered if there was something else going on. Something no one else knew about.”

“Oh,” Melanie said. “Wel . . . yes.” She looked at him. “You have a good memory.”

“The three of you were hard to forget,” he said.

When the Jeep pul ed up in front of the cottage on Shel Street, Melanie’s spirits flagged. She didn’t want the ride to end; she didn’t want to have to face Vicki and Brenda like a child who had run away from home. Josh yanked the brake and hopped out of the Jeep to retrieve Melanie’s luggage.

“Thanks for the ride,” Melanie said.

“My pleasure.”

Melanie reached for the suitcase, and their hands touched on the handle. We’re touching, she thought. One second, two, three. Did he notice?

He didn’t move his hand. Slowly, Melanie raised her eyes and thought, If he’s staring at me, I won’t be able to bear it.

He was looking at the cottage. Melanie let her breath go. She felt like a thirteen-year-old.

“Wel ,” she said. “Thanks again.”

“Right,” Josh said. “So, I’l see you, I guess. Good luck with everything.” He smiled at her.

“Thanks,” she said. “You, too.” She smiled back. She smiled until he climbed into his Jeep and drove off. Then she took a deep breath. The air smel ed like steak on a charcoal gril , and miraculously, she felt hungry.

As she rol ed her suitcase down the flagstone walk, she met Blaine. His hair had been wetted and combed and he wore a fresh blue polo shirt.

“Where were you?” he demanded. The inquisition starts, Melanie thought. But then Blaine’s face broke open into genuine curiosity and, if Melanie wasn’t mistaken, a little bit of conspiracy. “Were you lost?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said. “I was lost.”

That night, after dinner (cheeseburgers, Ore-Ida onion rings, iceberg salad), Josh drove to Didi’s apartment. She had cal ed during dinner and asked him to come over. He said no. When he sat back down to his father’s silence, Josh felt he had to explain. “That was Didi. She wants me to come over. I said no.”

Tom Flynn cleared his throat. “Dennis told me he saw you giving a girl a ride home tonight.”

“Huh?” Josh said, then he remembered Melanie. “Oh, right.” How to explain the “girl” Dennis was referring to was an airline passenger who was much older than Josh, and pregnant to boot? How to explain that he had driven her home in an attempt to catch another glimpse of Scowling Sister, who was another woman out of his league in every respect? “That was nothing.”

Tom Flynn cut his iceberg salad, took a bite, wiped ranch dressing from his chin. Drank his beer. The phone rang again. Again, Josh rose to answer it. Melanie had told him she was pregnant, but she hadn’t seemed happy about it. In fact, she had seemed gloomy. But she was too old to have gotten knocked up. Josh hadn’t thought to check if she was wearing a wedding ring. He wasn’t doing a very good job observing or absorbing.

“Hel o?”

“Josh?”

“What?” Josh said in an aggravated whisper.

“I real y want you to come over. Real y. It’s important.”