Chapter 20
Solo dropped two giant bags of food onto the engine block table and placed a tray of coffee beside it. “Bonnie’s set a tab up for us to pay monthly. Is that okay?”
Shay looked up when Gabe didn’t answer, and she realized Solo’s question was directed at her.
Gabe laughed and shoved her shoulder lightly. “You’re our math whizz. We’ve entrusted all the financials to your capable super-brain; you know that.”
“I guess I haven’t quite gotten used to you not giving all the orders and being our go-to yet.”
Gabe grinned and winked. “I’ll always be your go-to.”
“So is it okay or not?”
Shay looked back at Solo and arched her eyebrow. “Someone get out of the wrong side of bed this morning?”
Solo dropped heavily onto a couch. “I didn’t get out of bed; I rolled off the sofa.”
Shay glanced at Gabe, who frowned. So she was genuinely worried this was more than a little hiccup. “Didn’t you have therapy last night?”
Solo nodded. “It was our second session, and Rae gave us homework like we’re college kids.
Active listening.” She opened one of the bags and tore open the first wrapped package.
“What the fuck does that even mean? Either you’re listening or you’re not.
Putting another word in front of it doesn’t change anything, does it?
” She took a huge bite of the bagel, and cream cheese oozed out of the back to drop all over the front of her shirt.
“Fuck and damn it. Now I need a new shirt for the photo shoot.”
Under normal circumstances, one of them—usually RB—would’ve snatched Solo’s bagel from her hand, flipped it open, and smushed it in Solo’s face.
But even RB wasn’t that insensitive, so they all took their own lunch packets from the bags quietly and waited for one of them to spread wisdom on the situation.
“Isn’t it about focusing just on the person who’s talking and not having other distractions around?” Shay asked when no one else ventured an opinion. “Like your phone, or the TV, or in your case, your kids?”
Solo glared at her. “I can’t just ignore my babies to make Janie feel like I’m listening to her.”
“But isn’t Janie’s main problem that you’re giving all your attention to the triplets and none to her?” Gabe asked.
“That’s bullshit,” Solo said around a messy mouthful of food.
She wiped her mouth with the heel of her hand, and then wiped it on her cargo pants.
“If you and Lori ever have kids, you’ll understand that.
You can’t take your eyes off them for a second.
A second. That’s all it takes for them to run out in front of a bus and get squished like a pancake.
” She dropped the rest of her bagel back into the bag as if she’d just lost her appetite.
Shay looked at Gabe and raised her eyebrow.
They’d talked last night about how she and Lori were taking it slow.
But talk like this would likely wipe the thought of starting a family off the table totally.
It was certainly reinforcing Shay’s rules about keeping it simple, despite her long-buried soppy side trying to convince her otherwise.
“I felt like a fucking parrot, repeating everything Janie said as if I didn’t understand it when she said it the first time or like she didn’t remember what she’d just said. Bullshit. And I’m supposed to acknowledge her feelings even if I don’t agree with her. Isn’t that just lying?”
Shay shook her head. “No, it isn’t. That’s just about seeing her point of view and recognizing what she’s feeling. Everyone reacts to situations differently, and that comes from who we are as people. If you acknowledge her point of view, you’re trying to understand her better.”
Solo wrinkled her nose like she’d just sniffed gasoline. “Can’t tell you’re fucking a therapist, can you?”
Shay clenched her jaw, and Gabe touched her forearm lightly.
Solo had always been their problem child and dealing with something this volcanic would only exacerbate that.
She reminded herself that it’d only been a few weeks ago that she’d had to stop Gabe from going for Solo after she’d opened her mouth at Lori’s birthday dinner.
Gabe leaned forward and fixed her gaze on Solo. “Wanna rephrase that?”
Solo banged her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes briefly.
“I’m sorry, Shay. I’m all fucked up. I want to understand her better, I do.
But she needs to understand what it is to be a mom too, doesn’t she?
It can’t be all about us anymore, not when we’ve got three little humans to raise. ”
That was a point Shay wouldn’t argue with, though she also understood Janie’s fear of losing her sense of self within the family dynamic.
That had been Shay’s main driver when she’d joined the Army.
But this was a time for solidarity, not a “side with the enemy” moment, because Solo didn’t seem to be in a space where she might be able to grasp the flip side of the argument.
“That sounds like a good enough reason to stick with the therapy,” Woody said.
Solo bent over and put her head in her hands. “I’ve got a hundred and one reasons to stick with therapy, but my three main ones are my girls.” She swallowed hard, looking like she was on the edge of breaking down. “They need their mom.”
And there was something else Shay couldn’t disagree with, at least from her experience anyway.
If Rosie was sitting here with them, she’d have a different perspective.
Kids needed a parent, sure, but that person wasn’t necessarily the one who’d brought them into the world.
And if Janie was more concerned with herself than her kids, maybe she wasn’t cut out to be their mom.
“So how’d you end up on the sofa?” Woody asked.
Solo leaned back and dropped her hands into her lap. “I couldn’t face sleeping alone in our bed.”
Shay frowned, preparing for a response to the inevitable question that no one really wanted to ask. “Where was Janie sleeping?”
“In the guest room,” Solo said and grabbed her cup to take a big slurp. “Shit!” She jerked away as she crushed the cup in her grasp, and the coffee spilled all over her already-ruined shirt. She tugged it away from her skin and muttered more expletives.
RB handed her a bunch of napkins from one of the food bags, and Solo pressed them against her tee.
“She moved into the guest room the day after Lori’s dinner party.” Solo shook her head and sat back on the couch. “I haven’t slept next to my wife for nearly two weeks.”
The giant bell sounded, saving all of them from trying to find something comforting to say in response.
The last time Shay had gone without sex for more than a week was during the Iraq War.
But she recognized that, in a more permanent relationship, it was the intimacy of sharing a bed that was perhaps more important than actually having sex.
If she was ever going to have a real relationship, she’d want both, and she’d want them to have similarly equal importance.
She blinked, the weird thought surprising her.
She’d never considered entertaining anything permanent before; why would she now?
She admonished herself for even attempting to delude her own mind.
The reason was damn obvious, and she’d just arrived downstairs in killer heels and a pencil skirt.
Gabe clapped Shay on the shoulder and stood. “That’ll be your girl.”
“She’s not my girl.” Shay shoved her away. “We’re just casual.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Gabe said and walked away. “Solo, don’t forget to change your shirt,” she called after her.
Shay’s phone pinged as she and the rest of the gang made their way downstairs to let Rosie and her crew into the building.
I haven’t seen you at your brother’s house since the big party. When do we get to play in the kitchen together again? xx
Nia. She’d be an easy way to prove to Gabe that she didn’t think of Rosie as “her girl,” but she wasn’t going there, and why did she think she needed to prove anything to Gabe? Maybe it was more about proving something to herself.
She pocketed her phone and headed to the stairs at the sound of Rosie’s voice.
They hadn’t seen each other since they’d gotten back from Tijuana, both of them saying they were swamped with work.
In her case, it had been true, but she wondered if Rosie’s distance was genuine, or if she’d needed to take a breather from the intensity of their situation.
Their emotions had reached boiling point in the cauldron of grief they’d swum in together, and maybe now that they’d had some time apart, things could go back to a steady, simmering heat.
And that’s what they both wanted, right?
“I’m sorry the stylist tried to touch your hair. The director told me she’s new—not that that’s an excuse or makes it okay,” Rosie said. “He’s happy to fire her—”
“What? No, I don’t want that,” Shay said. It might’ve been different if the stylist hadn’t been ultra-apologetic, but she had. “Your director’s at fault too. He should make sure his staff are properly trained.”
Rosie nodded, looking as guilty as if she’d been the one to cross the line. “I’ll speak to Franklin on Monday, and I’ll get him to authorize a sensitivity trainer right away. I’m really sorry; I didn’t realize that wasn’t a standard element of their induction.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Your finger coils look amazing, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Shay smiled and instinctively touched her curls. “I had them done yesterday ’specially for the shoot.”
‘Well, they’re gorgeous and looked amazing on film. I was watching the monitor while they were shooting you.” Rosie bit her bottom lip and sighed. “You could definitely have been a model. Blake said they’re a little bit in love with you.”