“I am. Which is why I need to get home. I got people waiting for me.”
“I can have Hank get your laptop for you.”
“Or you can take me to it.”
“I probably have better internet here than you do at your apartment.”
“Drake, I’ve already told you I’m not staying here. I want to go.”
Before he could say anything, Paul stepped through the back door. His eyes darted between Drake and I, watching our silent standoff as he stood at the back door.
Then he knocked off his boots and stepped his way into the kitchen.
“Got whatcha asked for,” Paul said.
“Thanks. It’ll make my run into town easier,” Drake said.
“Make sure you get exactly what’s on the list. Don’t go improvisin’ on me,” Paul said.
“When have I ever done that to you?” Drake asked.
“Every damn time you go into town,” Paul said.
I snickered at the comment as I continued to eat my breakfast. Drake shot me another heated look as I peeled my banana, shoving it into my face just to make a show of things. A grin slid across Paul’s cheeks as he turned his kind eyes my way, and immediately I felt a bit of relief. He tipped his hat to me, smiling broadly before he turned and left the house.
I finished my breakfast as Drake studied the paper in front of him. He was flipping things over, his eyes scanning whatever document Paul had just handed him. I stood and took my bowl to the sink as I caught Drake’s stare again.
“I’m ready to go home whenever you’re ready to take me,” I said.
“Well, I’m not ready to take you.”
“Then I’ll walk home.”
“No, you won’t. We still have a lot of talkin’ to do, about how we’re gonna go about doing all this together,” Drake said.
“I don’t have to stay here in order for us to talk. You can call. Or come over yourself.”
“Thought you didn’t want me there.”
“I don’t want you living there, no. But you can come visit.”
“Like you expect me to just come visit my child whenever it’s convenient for you?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’m this baby’s father and you aren’t going to push me away. Not now, not ever.”
“I’m not going to keep you from this child,” I said. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
“The type of person to not tell me you're having my child, maybe?”
His words were like a blow to my gut. He pressed by me, his body heat gracing me one last time as tears filled my eyes. Was that what this was all about? He thought if I left, I’d keep his fucking child from him? I whipped around on my feet, watching him as he pulled a shirt from the closet. He pulled it over his head, then grabbed a baseball cap and started for the front door.
“Don’t you leave, Delia. We still have a lot we gotta sort out. But first, I gotta go get feed and see about getting a new damn tractor,” Drake said.
He threw his front door open and slammed through the screen door, his legs boasting of a swagger that still didn’t mesh with his ranch life. I had no idea how he did it. How that cocky swagger of his got set aside, for the rough and tumble ranch life. None of it fit together. They were two separate worlds, yet somehow, he managed to make it work.
How he managed both lives was beyond me.