13. Comfort

13

Comfort

T oo many hours working at Ayana’s during the week apart turned me into a grumpy girl. Apparently, Rudy agreed because when I approached him about taking Sundays off as well as my usual Mondays, he practically threw a party.

Sunday morning was decadent. I woke up late, soaked in the tub with a smutty book that made me impatient for the next step with Gabe, threw in a load of laundry, hopped into my car, and headed to Sage Ridge to have brunch with my girls.

And while I wasn’t quite ready to meet Dylan, Gabe promised he’d try to get away to take me out for a bit.

Between my heart and mind lay a great divide.

The curiosity was killing me. Did she have his mannerisms? His eyes?

Was she quiet? Bouncy?

Sweet?

Would she be a welcome weight in my empty arms?

Or would it hurt to hold what I missed?

I was still wondering about it when I walked into Susie Q’s to find Noelle, Harley, Wren, and Bridge already waiting.

“I’m just saying,” Noelle explained giving me a small wave, “I’ve already had a baby shower. I don’t need another one.”

My heart sank as I slid onto the bench seat beside Bridge.

“And I’m just saying,” Harley interjected, “I don’t need one.”

Wren cast her eyes to the ceiling as if praying for divine intervention.

I felt the same way for an entirely different reason.

“Welcome to the Hormone Games,” Bridge murmured, “where no one gets out alive.”

I forced out a weak chuckle. “What’s going on?”

Both Harley and Noelle turned at once their mouths open and ready to defend their positions.

But it was Wren who explained. “I’d like to throw a baby shower for Nadine. I thought it would be fun to include Harley and Noelle as well. Noelle said she doesn’t need a second one, and Harley doesn’t want one at all.” She looked at me earnestly. “Don’t you think every child should be welcomed with a party?”

I swallowed the bitterness of not having had these problems.

Wren had her own traumas, properly welcoming a baby into the fold was of paramount importance to her. But a compromise was in order.

“It’s not that hard. We’ll have one for Nadine on her own. It’s her first baby. An unexpected baby,” I stressed. “We need to take care with the guest list.”

I then nodded toward Harley. “We can do something fun with Harley, again with an abbreviated guest list.”

Harley opened her mouth to protest but I cut her off. “Your mom is going to want to throw you a shower. Either we manage it, or she does.”

Harley’s mouth snapped shut.

I continued with a wave toward Noelle. “As for Noelle, she already has most everything she needs.”

Bridge laughed. “What’s got you so fired up?”

I blinked then stared at her wide-eyed. “What?”

She waved a hand in my direction. “You’re not usually so impatient.”

I drew back, my gaze skittering around the others who sat looking equally bemused. “Sorry!” I blurted. I’d been down this road before. I knew well what happened when you didn’t celebrate your friends’ good news. “I thought I was helping.”

Noelle picked up her cranberry juice with a smirk. “You helped me.”

Harley wagged her head back and forth. “I have no complaints.”

Wren cocked her head to the side. “So, just Nadine on her own? You don’t think that would be too much attention on her?”

I sat back in my seat, unwilling to subject myself to further scrutiny.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Harley agreed. “She’ll know we’re there just for her. We’ll protect her like a pack of feral hyenas. She’ll be fine. And you guys can do something small for me if you want, if only to keep my mom in line. Left to her own devices, she’ll have the entirety of Sage Ridge there.”

“Feral hyenas?” Noelle murmured.

“Maybe mama bears,” Wren suggested.

Bridge’s intent gaze warmed the side of my face, but I studiously avoided looking at her as the conversation swirled on around us.

After a moment, she slid her hand into my lap and covered my tightly clenched fists.

I forced my hands to relax.

Without a word, she weaved her fingers through mine and rejoined the discussion around venue.

My lungs burned with the effort not to cry.

And the ache where I would have carried my babies echoed in the hollow.

The last thing I wanted to do was help throw a baby shower, never mind attend.

I looked across the table at Wren. If this hit close to home for me, it did the same for her.

And her soon-to-be daughter-in-law had a long road ahead of her.

Wren had no support when she got pregnant with Aaron.

I had no support when I failed to carry my babies.

Perhaps this could be healing for both of us.

I squeezed Bridge’s hand then released it. Leaning forward, I put my elbows on the table and offered, “Would you like to have it in Ayana’s private back room? It holds 25-30 people max which will force us to keep the numbers down.”

By the time I left half an hour later, I was shaking.

Bridge caught up with me. “Shae!”

I spun around and slapped my smile back on my face.

She slowed as she got to me, then positioned herself between me and the window to block anyone’s view.

“I just wanted to let you know I think I understand. And if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

I nodded as I forced down the lump in my throat. “Thank you. That means a lot. More than you know.”

She reached out a hand, but I stepped back.

She nodded in understanding and lifted her hand in a wave instead as she backed up to go back into Susie Q’s. “We’ll get together next week. Just the two of us. If you want to. Anytime you want.”

My head bobbed up and down like a dashboard noddy doll. I choked out my thanks, spun on my heel, and headed toward my car wanting nothing more than to retreat to Nan’s house.

I was almost there when my cell rang.

Gabe had dropped Dylan off at his parents’ place and was waiting for me at his. The promise in his voice quickened my steps. Maybe sex shouldn’t be for comfort, but I’d take comfort in it just the same.

I parked on the street and walked up the path to Gabe’s driveway where he stood waiting for me, his hands shoved deep into his front pockets.

I stopped short and spun around slowly with my mouth hanging open.

His house looked like a dollhouse with its dusky blue siding, bright yellow door, and overflowing window box. The driveway sloped upward and ran along the side of the house to an unattached single car garage at the back of the property.

The front of the property boasted a rock retaining wall that leveled the front lawn and sported a white picket fence.

“Gabe,” I breathed with delight. “It’s a dollhouse.”

He stiffened beside me. “It’s a lot bigger than it looks.”

I glanced up at him in surprise. “Oh no, Gabe,” I shook my head, “this is a big compliment. Huge. I could not possibly love it more.”

His mouth began to curve into a smile. “Really?”

I raised my eyebrows and dipped my chin, unable to contain my delight. “Truly.”

He swallowed and bobbed his head. “Thank you.”

The way he saw himself broke my heart. It always had.

I linked my fingers through his and asked gently, “Want to give me the grand tour?”

With a gentle tug, he led me up to a small, covered porch that housed a two-seater swing. “I have plans to extend the porch to wrap around the side of the house. There’s not much room here for more than one person.”

“That swing looks perfect for both of us,” I countered.

The front door opened into a small foyer which emptied into the living area. The living room spread out to the left while the dining room and kitchen lay straight ahead.

Inside boasted light wood floors, high ceilings, and wide windows spilling light into every corner, including the framed photographs on the mantel of the trim, white, fireplace.

They called to me.

And I answered.

There were pictures of Dylan alone and with her grandparents, as well as one of Gabe’s parents on their own. But one stood out from the rest. A woman with long dark hair and light brown eyes smiled at the camera, a jolly toddler cradled in her arms.

Wrapping my arms around my torso, I fought the shudder that ran through my body. Turning to face Gabe, I raised a nonchalant eyebrow.

He nodded, his gaze wary. “That’s Aunt Zoe. Dylan’s mom.”

“She’s pretty,” I commented.

He nodded slowly. “She is, she was also never more than a friend. Dylan was not planned, and we were never a couple.”

I swallowed and nodded tightly.

Was I jealous that he’d slept with her or jealous she’d given him a child? Maybe I was jealous she was able to have a child, a child she didn’t even want to raise, while I gave my life savings only to fail?

The answers to those questions would serve no one. I gave my head a mental shake and moved on to take in the rest.

There was only one with Gabe. I picked it up and stared at it, mesmerized. It trembled in my hand.

“Oh,” I breathed. His face soft, Gabe stared down in wonder at the red, wrinkled face of the crying newborn nestled in his muscled, tattooed arms.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I pressed my lips together tightly and turned away from him, feigning interest in the other pictures even as I clung to the one in my hand while I tried to pull myself together.

Reaching over my shoulder, he plucked the picture of him holding newborn Dylan out of my hand and turned me in his arms.

“Oh no,” I choked.

“Oh yes,” he countered, pulling me tight to his wide chest.

For a second I held myself rigid.

Then I broke.