“Do not be ashamed of your love. Never.”
She blinked, tears breaking free and racing down her cheeks.
“I believe things happen for a reason. Even moments of careless passion. But I don’t think you’re crazy for feeling embarrassed or unprepared. I think feeling thrown by all these changes is very normal. I promise you, Bea, the moment you and Tag hold your baby”—my own voice quaked—“all the adjusting will fade into a distant memory. Children are a blessing.”
She nodded. “In my head, I know that.”
“And this baby just proves to the world you had anamazinghoneymoon.”
A smile broke through her tears as she softly laughed. “We really did.” Light flickered in her eyes, a flame of hope in her discouragement as her hand came to rest on her belly. Her eyes flicked over the distant landscape as if she was looking for Tag. “I love him so much.”
“I know you do.”
“We didn’t even do anything, really. We walked around the Alamo, asked a few random strangers to take a picture of us by the river, and Door Dashed hamburgers to our three star hotel room.” She laughed again. “It was a lame honeymoon if you think about it.”
“You don’t need fancy if you’re with someone you love.”
She flashed me a grin. “Says the woman who went toJamaicafor her honeymoon.”
I pretended to love the memory even though it sent bile up my throat. My laugh sounded hollow. “Well, Jamaica wasn’t my choice.”
“So he surprised you? I don’t think I knew that. He sounds very romantic, Holls.”
“Yep. Very.” It was all the fake I could muster while I racked my brain for a way to change the conversation’s trajectory.
I had zero doubts that my days in the Jamaican sun couldn’t hold a candle to Tag and Bea’s slow strolls through the boring old Alamo. Worried I might have doubts, Garrett silenced my complaints with limitless under-aged cocktails on the white sand, couples massages in a wind-whipped cabana, formal island dining, and two endless weeks worth of four-times-a-day sex. How could someone havedoubtsin Jamaica? How could someone be anything but happy and sweet on a vacation that cost thirteen grand?
Before I could respond, my phone rang in my back pocket. Inwardly, I cringed, knowing the girls would ask who it was. At home, I kept the ringer on silent so they didn’t experience miniature heartbreaks all the time. But here, I took Meadowbrook’s forwarded hospitality calls so I had to keep the sound on. As expected, Nora and Izzy flew down the porch toward my spot on the swing, knocking into us so that the swing jolted backward. “Is it Daddy? Is it Daddy?”
I glanced at the number. Florida. “I don’t think so girls.”
“Make sure! Answer!” They demanded so fiercely, I couldn’t refuse them without causing meltdowns.
I didn’t want to disappoint my poor love sick daughters right here in front of Bea.
Quelling the panic and rage rising in my chest, I lifted the phone to my ear only to hear a recording—some sort of scam call. Plastering on a smile, I said, “Nope. Wasn’t him.”
The reactions from the girls were as different as night and day.
Izzy crossed her arms across her chest, a deep frown pulling into her brow. Nora, on the the other hand, flopped across my lap and wailed, “Henevercalls.”
At some point, I had to tell Bea about Garrett and I, but the topic felt like a huge brick wall. How would I even begin to climb it? I hoped this moment with my girls wouldn’t force me to talk about him before I was ready.
I rubbed my hand across Nora’s curls, gently shushing her. “I’m sure we’ll talk to him soon.”
Izzy, face reddened with emotions, said, “You’ve been saying that since Nora’s birthday.”
And there it was. Nora turned five inApril.
Afraid to look at Bea, I glued my gaze to my daughters.
“Can we call him?” Nora whined.
“Maybe later, okay?”
“Now! Right now!”
I swallowed. “Honey, Daddy is working right now.”
