16. Wren
16
WREN
“Do you really think you’re the dad?” I ask Stefan in the car on the way home. Traffic is a bitch this afternoon due to an accident on the freeway, and the silence in the car became deafening. Ever since Alicia dropped the baby bombshell, Stefan has been quiet. I’ve never seen him like this before, so I’m expecting shit to hit the fan in the next few days … or tonight.
“Why wouldn’t I be the dad?” he replies, his voice full of shock.
“Come on, Stefan, think about it,” I deadpan as traffic begins to flow again. “Out of nowhere a chick appears and claims you’re the dad.”
“Why would she lie?” Stefan growls again, “What does she have to gain?”
“Really?” I scoff, he takes his eyes from the road for a moment and looks incredulously at me and then focuses back on the road. “She has a shit ton to gain, Stefan.”
He flicks his gaze to me briefly again. “But what if I am the dad? I won’t be one of those deadbeats who turns their back on their kid just because I’m not with Alicia.”
“Really?” I’m shocked at his words.
“Family is everything to me,” he tells me. “When I lost my mom and brother, my nanna stepped up and raised me when my dad shut down. She showed me love and affection, and I will do the same for my kid too. My dad shutting me out hurt, and I always said that when I become a dad, I will be present. Sure, becoming a dad is not happening how I envisioned, but I will be there for my son.”
“That’s very admirable of you, Stefan.”
“I may be a douche, but I’m not a complete douche.”
Debatable , I think to myself but I don’t voice it because right now, I’m seeing Stefan in a completely different light.
Finally, we pull into the driveway and before we climb out, I reach over and put my hand on his arm. “Just, please be careful. Something is off with all of this.”
“Why can’t you trust me?” he growls. My words have pissed him off, and without another word, he climbs out of the car and heads straight to the kitchen and grabs a beer. He chugs it back and before he’s finished the first one, he’s grabbing for another just as there’s a knock at the door. Looking up, I see Fern standing there with a bottle of wine and an infectious smile.
Once a month Fern and I get together for wine, cheese, and a chat. This month it’s at my, well, Stefan’s place.
“Hi, Fern. We only just got home, I’ll be ready in a sec.”
“Traffic a bitch?” she asks, stepping inside and heading straight for the wine glasses.
“Hey, Fern,” Stefan says, saluting her with his beer. “I’ll leave you two to it.” And without another word, he heads upstairs to the rooftop deck. He seems to retreat up there when he needs to think.
“He okay?” Fern asks as she opens the drawer to grab the wine opener.
“Long day,” I offer and I start to work on the choo-choo platter. I know that’s not the right term but charcuterie is hard to pronounce, plus choo-choo is way more fun to say.
Fern pours the wine and slides one of the wine glasses over to me before she pulls out a stool and sits down. Lifting her glass, she tilts it to me in a salute and I do the same before I take a sip. The crisp flavors dance on my tongue and I smile.
“So, what’s on this week’s choo-choo?” she asks before taking another sip.
“This week we have salami, spicy chorizo, feta stuffed olives, a Dutch smoked cheddar, and I made a cheeseball?—”
“Please tell me it’s your mom’s recipe? That was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
The other week Mom and Dad visited for the weekend and it happened to be the weekend Fern and I get together. Mom joined us and she made her famous cheeseball, I’m pretty sure she discovered the recipe back in the Stone Age but whenever she found it, I’m glad she did. It’s become a staple in the Brookes household, and now in the Halstead, soon-to-be, Manning household too.
“It’s not as good as Mom’s ’cause no one makes them as good as my mom does, but it’s a close second.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
She grabs a cracker and cuts into the ball. Popping the tasty morsel into her mouth, she moans and groans and I grin. I did good. “Shall I leave you and the cheeseball alone?”
“Yes,” she replies before laughing. “Do you think Bradford and I can serve this at the wedding?”
“It’s your wedding, you can serve whatever the hell you want.”
“I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“I thought you only liked me for my cheeseball?” I tease.
“That’s just an added bonus.”
Sticking my tongue out at her, I grab the choo-choo board and we head out to the lower patio. From here, we can see out onto the beach and it just so happens the college boys are playing beach volleyball this afternoon—total coincidence. WINK WINK
Fern and I finish the platter and wine and are on to a second bottle when Stefan comes back downstairs. From my spot on the lower patio, I watch him for a moment. He seems to be lost and in his own head. This baby thing is affecting him more than he’s letting on. I know he’s saying he’s okay with it all, but this is Stefan D?uchmen we’re talking about. He never takes bad news lightly, and while this isn’t bad news, per se, it’s news that’ll change his life forever.
“What’s going on between you two?” Fern asks out of nowhere.
“Come again?”
“You and him.” She nods inside to where I was staring. “The relationship between you two has changed. Dare I say it, you even like him.”
“I do like him,” I confess.
“Like like? or just like?” Her questions stump me.
Previously it was just like, more like barely tolerate, but the more time I spend with him, the more I like him, but I cannot go there again. He’s my client and most of the time he’s a douche, but then there are times when he’s sweeter than pie. “He’s—” Before I can answer, Stefan shouts and throws his phone against the wall.
“Excuse me,” I offer and head inside. “You good?”
“Do I fucking look good?”
“Well, no, you don’t, but there’s no need to be a jackass.”
“Fuck off, Wren.” Before I can prod him for more details, he stomps upstairs, leaving me standing here confused as to what just happened. A few moments later, the door to his room slams shut. The force rattles the painting on the wall underneath his room.
“I’m gonna get out of your hair,” Fern says, joining me inside.
“You don’t have to go,” I tell her, but we both know that it’ll be for the best if she does.
“Call me if you need anything.” With that, she kisses me on the cheek and heads out, leaving me to deal with Stefan.
Returning to the patio, I bring in the empty platter and our glasses. I’ve just popped the bottle of wine back into the fridge when Stefan enters the kitchen. He’s shirtless and water cascades down his bare torso. My eyes watch as a droplet races down his skin into the towel wrapped around his hips. I bite my lip to swallow down the groan that wants to slip out.
Thankfully, he didn’t notice me checking him out.
He opens the fridge and grabs himself a beer and, being a gentleman, he grabs my bottle of wine and refills my glass.
Nodding my thanks, I take a sip. “You good?” I ask him.
“Yes. No, I don’t know,” he answers.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Yes. No, I don’t know,” he repeats, and I can’t help but laugh at his reply. My laugh causes his lip to lift slightly. “I saw that,” I tease.
“You saw nothing.”
“Mmmhmpf,” I reply with a nod.
“Wanna watch a movie, eat popcorn, and forget about the world for a few hours?”
“Depends on what movie?”
“You’re choice.”
“My choice?” he repeats and I nod. “I can pick anything I want?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, IT .”
“Nope, no fucking clowns.” He knows how I feel about clowns. He discovered my fear when we went to the local fair when we were at Tania’s ranch. A clown came up to us, and I screamed like I was being murdered. Now that he knows of my aversion to them, he likes to taunt me. One day I will find what he’s afraid of and it will be game on.
“You said anything,” he retorts.
“No. Fucking. Clowns,” I hiss between clenched teeth.
“I’m just messing with you. You know I hate scary movies too, but I couldn’t help messing with you again.”
“You’re a jackass.” I throw the tea towel in my hand at him.
“Ohhh no, not a tea towel.” Flipping him the bird, I emphasize it with a poke of my tongue too. “Ohhh no?—”
“Shut it or I’ll make you watch Inside/Out again.”
Stefan and I had a cartoonfest when we were in Colorado, both of us teared up in that movie when Bing Bong sacrificed himself. We both agreed it’s one of the saddest movie deaths, up there with Thomas J in My Girl and John Coffey in The Green Mile .
“That’s just mean. How about you get the popcorn started and I’ll go change. Then we can scroll until we find something to watch?” he suggests.
“Deal,” I agree.
Stefan turns and heads upstairs to get changed, and I get to making the popcorn. Before Stefan returns, I head upstairs and change into yoga pants and a Lockhart Falls Fire Department sweatshirt. I bump into him on my way out and together we head down to the living room.
The two of us get comfy on the sofa and we binge watch Grown Ups and Grown Ups 2 . We’ve just started Tag and my eyes become heavy. The next thing I know, it’s morning. My head is in Stefan’s lap, his hand is resting on my ass, and his morning wood is poking me in the cheek. Carefully I sit up, avoiding his dick, and I smile when I realize he pulled the blanket on the back of the sofa over me.
Sitting here, I watch him sleep and then I furrow my brow when I start to wonder what this pregnancy is going to do to him. He’s either going to embrace fatherhood or it’s going to implode like Hiroshima and there will be no saving him or his image.