Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15)(21)

“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 *.

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.