So I told her the truth. It was alright. I didn't care if she had a kid. I'd be over at her place as soon as I could. She told me she loved me. At that moment I wouldn't have cared if she had a dozen kids. Her place was small and on the top floor of a brownstone walkup. I was a little out of breath by the time I made it inside and my stomach did a little spasm. Audry was a whirlwind of emotion and frantic action.
“I'll be back as soon as I know she's okay.” She showed me the living room and pointed out her bedroom. “He's in there taking a nap. He is a doll, really.” I asked her how old he was. “He'll be a year old next month.” She looked into my eyes, “You okay? I'm sorry I didn't tell you but…” She let it hang in the air between us.
“It's okay. I love you. Go see your mom, I'll watch little…what's his name?” I realized I never asked.
“Tommy. He'll wake up in an hour or two, just went down. Bottles are in the fridge.” She gave me a hug and a rushed kiss as she made her way out the door. “I forgot to go shopping but help yourself to whatever you want.” She locked the door behind her. As soon as the lock clicked I started tearing through the cabinets. That quiver in my stomach had grown to a full quake. Gurgles of stomach acid started to creep up my throat. I opened a box of elbow noodles and swallowed mouthfuls whole.
