One to Tell the Grandkids (23 page)

He took a few deep breaths before he spoke again. “I’m sorry about ruining the surprise. About the baby shower, I mean. Your friend—what’s her name? The mouthy one?”

“Mel?”

“Yeah. She said you wouldn’t let her throw a shower, but she was doing it anyway. She wanted Paul and me to come, but she said she’d slam the door right in my face if I couldn’t be nice.” He smirked. “She’s good people.”

“She is,” Taryn said. “I think spoiling her surprise might piss her off, though.”

“Yeah. Thing is, Paul’s not going to be able to make the shower. She thinks it would be awkward seeing as she’s divorcing me.”

Taryn started. “What?”

He finally turned around. “You’ve seen this coming for years.”

“I—” The lie died on her lips when he shot her a knowing look. “Right. Okay. Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it sucks less.”

Mike flopped down on her couch, and Taryn was torn. Her brother had crappy timing. Indignant sarcasm tugged at her tongue, and she wanted to tell him he had no right to expect her to be there for him. She was in the middle of her own crisis. Probably.

Then again, maybe this was a welcome distraction. After all, if neither Slate nor Caleb had called yet, what else was she going to do besides go out of her mind waiting?

“What happened?” Taryn asked.

“Ah.” Mike waved his hand. “You know we shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place. She thinks you’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“That I went to school, I took the job, and I married her all because I was trying to make up for our sister dying.” He looked to her. “She also said I was judging you and your life when I had no reason to. I did all the ‘right’ things, and my life is falling apart. I hate my job. I’m looking at a divorce. You? I guess you really have your life together.”

Taryn scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“Well, you seem to, anyway. Steady job. Good friends.”

“Knocked up on a one-night stand.”
And I might have accidentally fallen for my baby daddy’s best friend, but you know. Whatever.

“What can I say, really? We had Dillon because we thought that’s what married people did—had babies. Then we had Bailey trying to fix what was broken. I guess that’s not much better than an accident.”

“Her name is Aurora, you know. My accident.”

Mike screwed his face up. “Aurora?”

Taryn fixed him with a glare, and he held his hands up. “Sorry. It sounds like a fairy tale.”

“You can call her Rory. Slate is.”

“Yeah.” Mike smiled with genuine warmth. “I know I’ve been an ass.”

“You can say that again.”

“The day you came over, the first time when you told us you were pregnant, I was going to talk to Mom and Dad about the problems I was having with Paul. Then it was all about you.”

“Oh, man.” Taryn shook her head. Talk about bad timing. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I get it. That’s the story of your life, isn’t it? That it was always about someone else?”

He looked up at her and cocked an eyebrow, so Taryn continued. “I’ve thought about what it must have been like for you. Mom and Dad’s lives were all about Bailey. You were looking after me. Who was looking after you?”

“I was old enough to look after myself.”

“And I was old enough to know better than to do the things I did. You can’t tell me you were unaffected.”

He shrugged. “Anyway, I wanted you to know about Paul and me. And I wanted you to know, you and Rory, I’m on your side. If I’m the reason you’ve been staying away on Sunday—”

“You aren’t.”

“Mom and Dad miss you. I do, too. Dillon hasn’t seen you in so long, he’s not going to recognize you, what with all this.” He gestured at her midsection.

“I know. It’s not you. Well, it’s not only you. It’s just hard to juggle time. Slate and I have been trying to figure things out, and then there’s—” Taryn cut off. Her thoughts diverted to the looming question on her horizon. What now?

“He’s treating you right, isn’t he? He’s doing right by the baby?”

Taryn swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Almost over.
Caleb’s eyes blurred at the dotted sea of red taillights as the cars in front of him slowed to a stop once again. Traffic was part of life in Southern California, but he had to admit, of all the changes in his life, he was glad this weekly commute would be done soon.

What now, he wondered for the millionth time. It shouldn’t have been such a difficult question. He had a life to return to, after all. He had friends and the bar.

As he neared the exit that would take him to Taryn’s house, his fingers twitched. Lately, for the first time in years, Orange County had a sense of home, too. There was nothing in the world Caleb wanted more than to take the exit. He could have Taryn in his arms inside of ten minutes. Longing made the time since they’d last seen each other stretch on for an age instead of two days. But Taryn was off limits seeing as Slate was staying with her. They had a doctor appointment the next day.

They were going to have a baby, and Caleb was skulking around behind his best friend’s back. He grimaced and wished for the umpteenth time he could think straight. Taking care of things, of his mother and sister’s last bits of business, had a natural order. As long as he connected the dots, things got done.

Because he didn’t know how to let her go, Caleb kept them both himself and Taryn in a limbo that couldn’t last. She quieted the restlessness under his skin that had overtaken him since Annie died. Even though he’d known it was coming, the changes in his day-to-day life had him scattered. When he was with her, those pieces rearranged themselves into something whole. Not quite right but pleasant nonetheless. Yet there were moments that were stark fear or desperate uncertainty.

He knew it had to end sooner than later. He knew it every time she kissed him goodbye in the mornings. When she asked, “See you later?” she really wanted to know if they’d already had their last night.

When he pulled up to his house, Caleb knew in his gut he was out of time to sort out his thoughts. Slate was sitting on his stoop. He pulled in beside his friend’s car and took a few steadying breaths before he got out.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, careful to keep his tone unassuming.

“I was waiting for you.”

“Shouldn’t you be with Taryn?”

“Taryn’s who I came to talk to you about.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is awkward. Can we go inside?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Caleb’s heart was pounding a mile a minute. He had no idea why. Slate looked more anxious than angry, and even in the worst-case scenario, he wouldn’t believe his friend would resort to violence. “Why do you want to talk to me about Taryn?”

“Come on, man. Don’t play me like that. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“How did you find out?” It didn’t make sense that Taryn would offer that kind of information without prompting.

“She asked me about Trinity.”

At that, Caleb’s breath left him. “What the hell does she know about Trinity?”

“Nothing, and that’s kind of the point here, man. Why
doesn’t
Taryn know about Trinity?”

“Why would she know?”

“Don’t you think she deserves to know? I mean, I wasn’t there, obviously, but you have to see the similarities here.”

Caleb stomped a few steps away from his friend as though he could run away from what Slate was saying. Of course he’d been thinking about Trinity and her mother, Lisa. But Trinity and Lisa existed separately from Taryn. The last thing he wanted was for Taryn to
know.
“What business is it of yours?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not. It’s definitely not my business who Taryn sleeps with. She isn’t mine. She never was. Thing is, if you were anyone else, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because no one else owes me an explanation. But I know you. I know you’ve had your flings but not with your friends.”

“I had one night with Oni.”

“It’s been more than one night with Taryn.”

“Christ, how much did she tell you?”

“She didn’t, really. I didn’t know what to think so I ran out on her last night.”

“Last
night
? It’s two in the afternoon.”

Slate stared. “Hey, pardon the fuck out of me if I was thrown when I found out my best friend was banging my baby’s mother. Out of all the things I thought I had to deal with, this was not one of them.”

Caleb ground his teeth. The uncomfortable knot that had twisted in the pit of his stomach from the moment he saw Slate at his door had become a boulder. Thoughts zinged around his head like ricochets, each of them making him jumpy. “I’ll stay away from her.”

“What?”

“That’s what you’re after, isn’t it?”

Slate narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you really wanted with her? A little fun you can brush off so easily?”

Caleb clenched his fists at his sides. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“So you do want to start something with her?”

His heart beat faster. He wanted to say yes, but he thought about Lisa and how it felt exactly like dying when she left. All these years later, the very thought stole his breath and scattered his thoughts. He swallowed hard. “I don’t have any business getting between you two. You deserve to be together.”

“What? I told you before, Taryn and I as a couple isn’t going to happen.”

“Even so, you should be learning to work as a team. You don’t need me confusing everything.”

“Don’t make this about me.” When Caleb turned away, Slate grabbed his arm and turned him back. “This is not about me. Not when I’m sitting right here and telling you I’m cool with it.”

Caleb opened his mouth to unleash his next defense, but he snapped it shut again when Slate’s words got through to him. “Wait. What?”

“I don’t really know what’s going on with you and Taryn, but if you’re holding back because you think I’ll be pissed, I’m not. In fact, I think it would be great.”

Caleb froze. He couldn’t find the words he needed, and so Slate went on. “I’ve thought about it before. I thought about how someday Taryn would have a significant other, and that person gets to be part of my daughter’s life. I get no say in that. That’s a scary thought with all the assholes out there.

“But you. I know you. I trust you with my kid. Hell, I need you there for
me
so it works.” Slate touched his arm. “Except for my mom, you and Taryn are the most important people in the world to me. I think it’d be great.”

For a second, just a second, Caleb let himself hope. Myriad images flashed before his eyes. There was the litany of memories he already had, moments he could make a permanent part of his life. Taryn in his arms, in his bed. Her soft smiles in the morning, her quirks, her passions. Then there was the things that could have been. He remembered the stab of pure jealousy that had shot down his spine at Ann’s funeral when his father had been engulfed by the loving arms of his second family. Caleb knew he was a good man. He’d wondered then why he deserved to lose so much and not have the solace of another’s company.

Taryn had been there like the answer to the soul-deep ache in his heart. The idea he could have her . . .

But no. Slate was wrong. Slate was still very much a child and naive. It wasn’t his fault he still believed in fairy tales. He was on the happily-ever-after side of the equation. That wasn’t how the story would end for Caleb.

He’d traveled this road before. Once upon a time, he had loved a woman and loved her child as his own. There was not even the faintest voice in his head telling him he was strong enough to chance losing another daughter like that. He looked up at Slate and shook his head.

“I can’t.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

W
hen Caleb was young and got into mischief, his father had been a big fan of dragging him about by his ear. He was dragged by the ear to face responsibility for whatever he’d done—usually to apologize to Annie or his mother. John had never struck either of his children. His disappointment had been more effective than any smack to the bottom ever could have been, at least for Caleb.

One thing was certain, if there was ever any doubt Slate, easy going, always smiling Slate, could handle discipline, Caleb had none now. He sat in the passenger seat of his own car, struggling not to squirm like a child under the weight of Slate’s disapproval. He was thirty-three for Christ’s sake. He didn’t ask anyone to agree with his choices. He had the passing thought that he would have preferred Slate just punch him and get it over with.

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest and sat back. Again not unlike when he was a child, a number of not-quite-logical arguments threatened to make a fool out of him. There, at least, was one difference. As an adult, he could recognize when he was being irrational, and his anger at Slate was just that. One ridiculous argument after another struck him, all of which he managed to keep at bay by biting the inside of his cheek. Part of him, like a recalcitrant teenager, wanted to argue that of the two of them, Caleb had more right to be angry than Slate. It was wrong, wasn’t it, that Slate should want Caleb and Taryn to be together?