Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15) (11 page)

“You get points for everything.”

Suddenly, something breaks
in Wren’s room and I hear glass shatter.
“I had better go check on her.”

He nods, and then he bends and presses a kiss to my cheek. He lingers there a moment like he’s breathing me in. And I don’t want to let him go.

He leaves, and then I look toward my kitchen counter and see that he left his baseball cap. I smile and start plotting in my head what I can do with it next that might give me an
excuse to see him before my appointment on Saturday to work on the tattoo.

Ideas are running through my head when Wren’s door flies open and she steps into the living room. “Is he gone?” she asks.

“Yes. Why?”

She tosses a white cylinder on the counter. I look down and see a small plus sign in the window. “Oh,” I breathe. I look up and find her blinking back tears. “Wren,” I say softly, and
I approach her like she’s a wounded animal, because that’s essentially what she is right now. She’s scared. And she’s fighting it.

“He knocked me up,” she says over a sniffle. “I was going to tell him tonight, and I went to his apartment early, and I found him in bed with one of the girls he works with.”

“Oh, Wren,” I say, covering my mouth.

“He knocked me up. I
’
m pregnant.” She covers her
belly with her hand. “What the hell am I going to do?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her, although I have no idea what the hell we’ll do. “We’ll figure it out,” I say again, trying to convince myself as much as I’m trying to convince her. “I promise, we’ll figure it out.”

She falls into my arms and starts to sob.

My phone goes off in my pocket and she steps back from me, sniffling and wiping
her eyes. “You should answer that.”

I pull my phone out.

Ryan:
Everything okay?

Me:
Not really
.

Ryan:
Want me to come back over?

Me:
I want you to come back over more than anything, but it’s probably not the best time for Wren. I’ll tell you more tomorrow
.

Ryan:
Can I see you tomorrow?

Me (heart thudding with joy):
Maybe. You forgot your cap
.

Ryan:
I didn’t forget it
.

A grin steals across
my face.

Me:
Good. Check with me tomorrow and you can see what kind of sticky situations I get it into
.

Ryan:
Are you talking dirty to me?

Me (laughter bubbling):
Maybe

Ryan:
I am a happy man. Talk to you tomorrow
.

Me:
Good night
.

Wren blows a big, snotty tissue full of boogers and says, “Was that Ryan?”

I nod and shove my phone back in my pocket.

“Are you
glowing?
” she asks, her eyes
narrowing.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” I rush to say.

She puts her hands on her hips. “I got knocked up, cheated on, and you’re fucking glowing. You have to be kidding me.” But she’s grinning, so I know she doesn’t mean any harm. “Wait,” she suddenly says. “Where are your gloves?”

“I took them off,” I say quietly. Then tears start to sting my eyes and I blink them back as fast as I can.

“Oh, Lark,” she says, and she pulls me in to her. “I knew one day you would meet a man who made you feel safe enough to take them off. I just didn’t think it would a deaf tattoo artist who looks like he could shit nails and then eat them for breakfast. I expected you to fall for a guy in a sport coat and loafers, not a hoodie and flip flops.”

“I took the gloves off,” I whisper as if amazed, and
I bury my face in her shoulder.

“I am so proud of you,” she tells me softly. She sets me back and plucks a tissue from the box on the counter, and then presses it into my hand. “Look at us. We’re a mess. You’re upset because you’re starting something new. And I’m a mess because I’m ending something.”

I look toward her belly. “Or starting something.”

She shakes her head. “Or ending something.”

My gut clenches. “Oh.”

“I need to think about it.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll be there with you. I’ll hold your hand if you decide you’re not ready to be a mother. Or I’ll hold your hand in labor and delivery. Whatever you want, I’m with you one hundred percent.”

“I’m sorry I was mean to you the other day. My period was late and I was afraid, and my temper got the best of me.”

I go to the
freezer, take out a quart of ice cream, and get two spoons. I hold one out to her and we sit together silently and eat the whole thing.

“I really like Ryan,” I suddenly blurt out.

She smiles. “You took your gloves off for him. I’d say you more than like him.”

Yeah. I do. I more than like him.

And it scares the hell out of me.

Ryan

It has been days since the last time I saw Lark. She has an appointment today at two o’clock so I can finish her tattoo. We’ve texted all day every day, silently getting to know one another, and it has been great, but it’s not the same as actually getting to see her.

On Monday, she sent me a picture of her wearing my baseball cap in front of a doctor’s office.

Me:
You’re not sick, are
you?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
I’m entertaining your cap at the gynecologist’s office.

Me:
At the what?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Finny calls it the coochie doctor
.

Me (grinning like a fool):
You took my cap to the coochie doctor?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Why, yes, I did
.

Me:
Wait. Are you wearing a paper gown? Open at the front? With your feet in these horse things?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
I think they’re
called stirrups
.

Me:
Horse things. And answer the question
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Stirrups. And no, I am not wearing a paper gown
.

Me:
Then what are you wearing?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Your cap.

Me (gulp):
That’s all?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Quit being a perv. I’m wearing clothes.

Me:
Damn. There goes my fantasy. Why are you at the doctor?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
I’m here with Wren
.

Me:
Is she okay?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Not really, but I think she will be. I’ve got to go. They’re calling for her.

Me:
Can I see you later?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
I can’t. We’re laying down tracks tonight at the recording studio. Probably every night this week. Bye!

On Tuesday she sent me a picture of her wearing my cap at an ice cream shop. And she just happened to have her tongue stuck out so she could lick
a humongous cone.

Me:
This isn’t very fair
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
What’s not fair?

She sends another picture with her tongue actually touching the cone.

Me:
My cap gets to see you more than I do. Can I see you tonight?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Can’t. We’re recording
.

Me:
Soon?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Probably not until this weekend. We have an appointment to finish my tattoo.

Me:
I’m hurt. You just
want me for my ink skills
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Would I be texting you stupid pictures of myself if I just wanted you for your ink skills? No. I’m trying really hard to get (and keep) your attention.

Me:
Mission accomplished. Text me later, when you are wearing my cap in the shower, okay?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
LOL Nice try. TTYL

On Wednesday, I text her first.

Me:
I just did a tattoo for a man
who lost his whole family in a house fire. He was at work when it happened. He lost his wife and three children
.

There’s a huge pause when she doesn’t respond. But finally, she does.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
What kind of tattoo did he get?

Me:
Roses, which were in honor of their wedding, and one symbol for each of the kids.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
What were they?

Me:
A building block, a matchbox car,
and a set of jack rocks, all making up the shape of a baseball diamond. The block was first base. The car was second base, and the jacks were third. The roses were home plate. They met at a baseball game.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Will you come up with something like that for me for my other arm?

Oh, shit. I realize that I’m talking with a woman who lost her family in a fire about a tattoo I did for
someone in a similar tragedy. I’m an asshole.

Me:
I’m so sorry. I just realized the parallel. I never should have said anything
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
I’m glad you told me. It obviously affected you.

Me:
His grief was like a living, breathing thing there in the room with us
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
My mother liked to play Scrabble. My father preferred chess. And our favorite thing to do on the weekend
was go to the beach and fly kites.

Me:
I can work with that
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Thank you. And thank you for telling me about them. Grief can either make you or break you. I let it break me for a long time. Now I think I’m ready to let it make me. I hope he gets to that point too
.

Me:
You’re there
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Got to go. The girls are looking at me like I’m messing up their whole
day.

Me:
TTYL

On Thursday, I really want to see her. There’s a famous book about how to tell if a guy is into you. I’m definitely into her. I can’t stop thinking about her. I want to talk to her. I want to hear about her day. I want to know how she’s feeling. I particularly want to know how she’s feeling about me.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
What’s the dress code for your mom’s party?

Me:
Dress code?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
What will everyone be wearing?

Me:
If I tell you nothing, will you show up wearing nothing?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
I’ll show up and kick you in the balls. How’s that?

Me (instinctively putting out a hand to protect my nuts):
It’s casual. A cookout. So you can wear something cookout-ery.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Cookout-ery. Okay. Will your brother be there?

Me:
Why do you ask?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Because there’s safety in numbers. And I already met him.

Me:
No need to be afraid. They’re harmless
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Said the spider to the fly. I have to go. Studio time
.

Me:
TTYL

On Friday, I text her to find out what she’s doing.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Girls’ night. My sisters and the Reed wives
.

Me:
Where?

Lark McCapSnatcher:
I’m not allowed to say, or the Reed
boys will show up to claim their women like cavemen on steroids. They’re all together at Paul’s. You should go join them.

Me:
Who is watching the kids?

The Reeds have a million and one children now.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
The kids are with the men
.

Me:
Then hell no. I’ll pass
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
The kids are adorable
.

Me:
Maybe when there’s only one. But they have fifty or a thousand of them
.

Lark McCapSnatcher:
Do you want kids?

Me:
Never thought about it
.

Silence.

Me:
Until I met you
.