Chapter 23
23
Harrison
How is she so calm when I’m freaking the fuck out inside?
And I’m the one who had the whiskey. She’s thriving off water alone.
Tatum’s lying in a lukewarm bath covered in suds, and I’m researching getting pregnant while taking birth control pills. Sure, I always knew it wasn’t 100%, but what the fuck? I still trusted it.
As tempting as it is to pour myself a drink, I need to get her fed properly. Natalie sent the entire pot of soup back with us, and it’s just hot enough to serve. I find the bowls and ladle the soup inside. I can’t find a tray to carry it on, so I load up my hands and tuck the crackers under my arm. When I turn around, she’s standing there. Her straight hair hangs over her robe-clad shoulders. A makeup-free face brings attention to her bright eyes that are filled with amusement. She giggles. “Need a hand?”
I must look like an idiot trying to juggle everything. “Maybe more.” I set everything down on the island when she comes into the kitchen.
“You did all of this for me?”
“I can’t take credit for the soup. I’m just the reheater.”
Running her finger along the island, she stops it beside me, and then she slips her arms around me. “But you reheated it for me. I don’t even know where you got the crackers.”
“Whoever does your shopping thought it was a necessary staple. Who does your shopping for you?”
“A company we found through STJ. Two sons wanted to take the burden of grocery shopping off their mom for a year when she was going through chemo. They didn’t live in New York, so they contacted us for help. We found a great startup for just that thing. It was nice to do something that can make a real impact on someone’s life. We didn’t charge them because it allowed us to open a division that focuses fully on helping those in need.”
I’ve not been privy to this side of the business or of Tatum. There’s an excitement in her eyes as she speaks, yet until now, I knew nothing about it. “I haven’t heard about this, not from Nick or Natalie.”
A self-deprecating expression fills in the features of her pretty face. “Feels like we’re bragging so it’s not something we really advertise. It’s through word of mouth. We’re not looking for pats on the back.”
“How does it work?”
“Through the submission process. We have someone in the office who narrows it down to five and then presents them to the company, and everyone has a vote that counts. Sometimes it’s one, sometimes two a month.” She pulls her hair over her shoulder, the silky strands instantly returning to where they came from. “Anyway, I work with that company who grocery shops for people who don’t have time, mobility, or interest.” Raising her hand, she adds, “I fall into the last category. No shocker. They stock the staples, and then you give them your likes, etcetera.”
There are a million businesses who can shop for you, but that this one has the charitable angle definitely makes it more interesting. I’ll have to watch for investment opportunities. That aside, she has me wondering if New Yorkers even have grocery stores like the ones back home. “Have you ever grocery shopped?”
She’s quick to answer. “I’m sure I have. There’s a fruit stand down the street, and the shops for the other things are just past that.”
“I’m talking about a large grocery store where everything’s all in one place?”
“I’m not sure I have.” She shrugs indifferently, taking a cracker from the wrapper. “Does it matter?”
“No. Not in the scheme of things, but what about the baby?”
She starts choking with cracker crumbs stuck to her lips as she grabs for the water. Chugging some down, she clears her throat and then shoots me a dirty look. “What about the baby?”
Wow, that’s a trigger. I need to avoid those landmines in the future, if possible. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She clears her throat once more and takes another drink. “What did you mean what about the baby?”
It was a dig. I know it, and she knows it. Now the baby knows I’m an asshole. I can’t help wondering how Tatum’s going to manage this. “I know you can take care of yourself, but this is bigger than you or me.”
Offense widens her eyes and has her jerking away from me. “Excuse me? I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”
Insinuating . . . What the fuck am I doing? “Fuck. I didn’t mean you’re irresponsible or anything.”
Moving to the other side of the island, she says, “That’s not sorry.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t have an ego that keeps me from apologizing when I’m in the wrong, and on night one, I’m in the fucking wrong. Lesson learned.
She crosses her arms over her chest, looking at me like she doesn’t know me at all. “What’s wrong with you?”
I’m coming to realize that I can’t stay silent on this topic. “I need to talk about this. I thought we’d come home to do that.”
“Home. This is my home, not yours. Yours is in Los Angeles. I don’t know if you live in an apartment or a house, near the beach, or above Sunset. I don’t know any of that.”
“But you could. I want to take you there. I want to introduce you to my family.”
“The family that shuffled you off on a bunch of nannies?”
The low blow hits its intended destination—below the belt. I’m not saying it’s not owed, but I’m starting to see some of the old Tatum returning. And that won’t bode well for me.
I stare at her, cautious like I’m trapped in a cage with a pacing tiger. Is it going to eat me alive or let me live? One thing I won’t accept is a dig toward my family, at least not from anyone else. “I joke about the nannies. The stories are true, but I find them funny. If you want to know the real reason I had so many, it’s because my mom was working at the time. Four kids is a lot to handle with a full-time job. My dad wasn’t the kid-rearing type. Still isn’t.” The happiness in her eyes escaped as soon as I screwed up and opened my mouth. But the fire that now resides inside means this isn’t going to be resolved with an apology.
There are lines we don’t cross, and my family is mine. “The sacrifices fell on my mom’s plate. Instead of putting us in a daycare, she hired nannies to keep us home. They would take us to our sports and make our meals instead of having to eat from a drive-thru. So if you want to punch me with what a handful I was, go right ahead, but be careful when you get too close to dragging my mom into this.”
Tatum doesn’t seem to understand that when I speak of my family, she’s now a part of it, a member I’m willing to do anything to protect.
The breath she sucks in is harsh and not taken easily. Her hands release the edge of the island, and she takes a step back. “I’m not sure what just happened, but I don’t want this.”
“This or us, Tate?”
“Are they one and the same?” There’s no spite in her tone, and the fire is starting to simmer. The question still stings, though, and I have a feeling I’m witnessing her pattern. Push me away to save herself the pain from another day. At least I know what she thinks of me.
“I know my answer, but what is yours?” I ask.
“This isn’t a tit for tat, Harrison. I’m not mad. I’m learning. Natalie once told me that she and Nick had to learn how to fight. They had to understand where the other came from instinctually. I’m trying to fight my own habits and give you the benefit of the doubt.” She exhales in a huff and then sighs, coming back around the island.
Holding the hem of my shirt, she adds, “I’m trying for you.”
I see it in her eyes, the sincerity shaping her expression, and the way she holds my shirt like she’s trying to hold on to me.
“It’s going to take more than an argument about nannies and grocery stores to scare me away.”
A soft smile hangs on her face. “I had teachers during the day when I was little and a nanny who was also the housekeeper. She still works for my parents, maintaining the Manhattan property. So I get it. We come from similar backgrounds even though things were different.”
“I don’t want the same thing I had. I don’t want nannies raising our kids. During the day, fine because we have to work, but at night, I want to be there for them.”
“Our.” Not a question, but just something to chew on. Taking a step back again, she turns away and then walks to the windows. “I guess this is all leading to the conversation I didn’t want to have.” Shadowed in the darkest part of the room, she looks back. I can still see the look of uncertainty in her eyes. “I was waiting to have everything confirmed at the doctor’s office, and you’re already making plans for more.”
“False positives are rare.”
“They happen, though, just like someone getting pregnant while on the pill. We’re the exception. It makes me nervous about finding out if we are when it comes to this as well.” Her hand sits on her middle like she might feel something.
“You should eat,” I say, the heaviness releasing from my chest.
Returning to the kitchen, she takes the spoon and sips the soup to challenge me. Setting the spoon down again, she says, “We should talk about what happens next.” I don’t know what to say. I want her to lead. I need her to. Not because I can’t, but I don’t want to plant hope where none is allowed to grow.
She reaches over and takes my hand in hers, studying it. Running the tip of her finger over the veins on top of my hand, and then with her gaze cast down, she says, “I can tell you’re nervous.” When those browns meet my blues, they’re filled with warmth, and comfort is found inside. “Maybe even scared. Is that what you’re feeling, Harrison?”
I can only bring myself to give the minutest of nods, but it’s enough to encourage her to wrap her arms around me, and confess, “I’m scared, too.”
Something real we share has me engulfing her in my arms and kissing the top of her head. “I don’t want to fight with you. I just . . .” I know better than to say the words sitting on the tip of my tongue. Words that would put a stake in the game, and if she chose otherwise, would leave me devastated. It might already be too late for that anyway. We’ve only dated for a few weeks, but it took years to get to this stage, and I don’t want to lose her before we have a chance for more.
She tilts her head up. “You just what?”
I swallow those words down, choosing different ones based on what’s best for her. “No matter what happens, I’m not leaving you.”
Her gulp is loud enough to hear, and tears sparkle in her eyes. “Will you go with me to the doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”
This is big. Huge. Her trust in me was revealed in the form of an invitation. Any other time, she would have asked Natalie.
This time, she asked me.