Push

47. He Got the Suitcase

TOBY

Footsteps scurried behind me.

I paused, lifting my head out of the pile of boxes I was rummaging around in on the garage floor. I whipped a glance over my shoulder. Shadows loomed up the walls, darkening every corner. The dull orange of the bulb glowing overhead barely chased away the ghosts.

I rose slowly. "Gwen?" Was she back from her Friday night out with Marnie already? I took a cautious step, peering around the garage.

Nothing. No one. Just the same old ghosts.

I was losing my marbles. Hearing noises. Footsteps. Whispers. I'd end up six feet under if my brain kept inventing imaginary friends for me. I rubbed my palm over my chest. I rated myself as decent on the bravery scale. I'd even gone skydiving in Indonesia once. That took serious balls, right? But even with both of my feet firmly on the ground and nothing but shelves packed with Gwen's laundry detergent for company, the adrenaline was still pumping.

Am I too young for a heart attack?

Dad had been wiped out at only fifty-six. He was fit. Healthy. The life of every party—no one seemed to care he was a dirtbag. Some heart issues were genetic, and you never knew when your number was up. Had I forgotten to renew my life insurance? Tension tugged tight between my shoulders when I leaned forward to peer through the garage window. Maybe I'd forgotten...to lock the car...? Or...? My pulse spiked. A chill shuddered through me.

Nah, screw this shit.

Paranoia chasing my heels, I hightailed it out of the garage. I slammed the door shut, hurried through the house, and bounded up the stairs. I didn't trust the baby monitor clipped to my back pocket. Sticking my head through the nursery door, I checked on Noah. That dropped the blood pressure a bit. The little chonker was safe and sound, sleeping spread eagle on his back, his tiny fists stretched out above his head.

Exhausted, I flopped into the rocking chair beside the crib, my head lolling to the side.

Maybe I'd pushed myself too hard. Tried to do too much. Do Everything Friday had seemed like a great plan when I'd hopped out of bed this morning. Before I started my new job, there was a lot to organize—the house, the yard...myself. I wanted Gwen and I to start on solid footing this time. Everything fifty-fifty. Probably not realistic—life threw us a lot of curve balls—but it was worth aiming for.

I had a long to-do list. I hadn't ticked off as many things as I'd wanted, but I'd made a start. That lawn after it was mowed... Mwah! Chef's kiss. And when I'd dropped by the study with a fancy cafe coffee, Gwen had rewarded me with an almost-second-base make-out session in the doorway. Almost.

My heart started hammering again. Now, that type of adrenaline, I didn't mind. Smiling, I rested my head against the rocking chair, closed my eyes, and let the memory tingle down to my toes. Gwen had always made me tingly. Happy. She was one in a million. Smarter than smart. A force to be reckoned with. Hot. She worried way too much about the extra curve that had settled on her hips, but I wanted to get my greedy hands on every inch...

My eyes snapped open, and I darted a guilty look at the crib. Probably not the place to be indulging in X-rated thoughts. I dug my phone out of my pocket and took another glance at my to-do list. Endless. And that was just this week. How would we keep on top of all this crap with both of us working again?

I tapped into the Stroller Squad group chat.

Stupid question, I typed, but how do you guys get everything done when you're juggling a chubba bubba and you're both working?