Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Violet
Alder helped the delivery guy haul my new bed in. I’d bought a full-size one on sale that was half the size of the one I’d shared with Willis. But if it was just me, I didn’t need a big bed.
I rubbed the center of my chest. Was my morning sickness acting up? Moving was stressful.
My phone buzzed with a message.
Poppy: Give me the address immediately. I’m putting in leave to come visit.
Another followed immediately after. Poppy had made a group text.
Clover: Let’s get the sister band back together.
Poppy: I’m going to rub that baby belly all over.
No one wanted to hear us sing, but I’d take sister visits any day. I didn’t have to clear it with anyone. Here’s the address. I have weekends and holidays off.
Another buzz. My other brother this time.
Jasper: Ouch. Thanks for the invite.
The corner of my mouth kicked up. You’re always welcome when you can pry yourself away from your new cowboy life.
He’d taken over managing Eliot’s family ranch in eastern Montana.
Jasper: I’m not rubbing any of your bellies. Maybe Alder’s.
Smiling, I tucked my phone away.
In only a week, I’d secured an open rental. The house was by the elementary school. My drive to work would take twenty minutes on a busy day. I didn’t have much for furniture. I’d left California with the items I had purchased and only what had fit into my car. Basically, my clothing, a few end tables, and some kitchen items.
Everything was on track. My job. My living arrangement. Yet my optimism dimmed while I stood in the middle of the kitchen of my new home.
The musty smell wasn’t as strong as when I first entered. I’d peeked into the basement once, and that was the end of that. If I had furnace or water heater problems, I might just move versus going down into that dank darkness.
Alder wandered in. “Delivery guy’s gone.” He glanced around the kitchen. “It’s not bad,” he said lightly, his expression carefully neutral.
“It’s not good.” I took in the thin cabinet doors. Old contact paper lined the insides, but spots were worn through to the wood. I wouldn’t put any dishes inside until I scrubbed them well. Two doors hung crooked, and the one closest to the sink didn’t close all the way.
The table Alder and I found at the secondhand store was as old as that house, but it was small enough to fit into what the landlord described as a dining room. My parents’ breakfast nook was larger.
The place had been built in the sixties, but some of the decor had been updated twenty years ago. The kitchen didn’t boast many of the updates.
Still, the carpet had been replaced after the last renter. I could handle old and worn-down woodwork. It might not be the cute little farmhouse I’d never get to own, but I could make it a home for the baby.
An old, weathered home with light fixtures and wallpaper older than me.
People raised kids in worse. This place wasn’t what I envisioned, but neither was being a single mom.
Alder scratched the back of his head as he took in the kitchen. He was dressed down in khaki shorts and a polo. His casual style used to be jeans and a T-shirt, but for the last decade, he’d adopted the wardrobe of a golf-playing CEO. Maybe it was a dress for the job you want sort of thing. I hadn’t asked about his wardrobe change, and if I had, he would’ve pretended not to understand what I meant. Just like he’d played obtuse when we’d asked about his divorce and he’d answered with we grew apart .
“You sure there’s nothing better out there?” He opened the cabinet closest to the sink. The hinges squeaked.
“It was either dump money into a motel room or move in somewhere. I’d rather have a house than an apartment.”
“I get that, but…” He turned on the sink. Water sputtered out, and the pipes thumped. He quickly shut the knob off.
“I’m sure it hasn’t been used in a while. ”
He gave me a dubious look. “Did you test the shower and toilet? Is the rest of the plumbing shady?”
“It’s not shady.” My response lacked conviction.
He walked into the living area and flipped the switch for the small round light fixture in the middle of the ceiling. Nothing happened. He looked over his shoulder. The light above me hadn’t turned on either. He flipped it again, and we both looked around.
“What’s this for?” He circled the rest of the living room. Any switch he came to, he flipped. The hallway light turned on with the switch farthest away from it. Otherwise, nothing happened. “The electricity is shady.”
“I can get a lamp.” My stomach was slowly sinking. “Believe it or not, there was a worse house I looked at yesterday.” It was why I had taken this one, knowing that it was move-in ready because there wasn’t a line waiting to get in.
“Let me find something to check all the outlets.” He grabbed a lamp and went through all the rooms, testing the switches. “I don’t like this, Violet,” he called from my bedroom.
“Doesn’t matter, Alder. I’m living here until I can afford to buy a place.”
He appeared in the hallway. “Mom and Dad will help you get into something new sooner.”
Starting a new job after an almost four-month lapse wasn’t the best time to get a loan. I’d only get more pregnant or have a baby when I closed and moved—if I could get that far.
I let my shoulders hang. “I’m not going to be in my midthirties and still need their help.”
“Don’t be too proud. That’s how you ended up with that douche for so long. ”
“He really was a douche.”
“ Is a douche. He’ll never change.” He spun in a circle. I had a blue Rubbermaid tote and a coffee table in the living room with my crocheting, and that was it. Everything else he’d hauled from Billings for me was in the bedroom. I had little other furniture. “I’m going to buy you a chair.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I’m not leaving my pregnant sister in a house with no chair.”
I waved my hand at the small table he’d hauled from the thrift store. “I have two whole kitchen chairs.” They were also older than me and made of metal. Someone had repaired the plastic seats at one point with brown, chevron-patterned vinyl. They were cute but dated.
“Load up,” he said and went out the front door.
I could ignore him, but my butt liked the thought of the metal chairs less than he did. My tight sweats neared unpresentable, but it wasn’t like I was trying to pick up a man. I followed him and locked up. The dead bolt took a few turns, and I had to push the door with my shoulder while turning the key before it thunked into place.
Alder waited at his black pickup, his flat expression saying a lot.
“It has character,” I said as I crawled in.
He stayed true to his word, driving straight to Coal Haven’s lone furniture store. He bought the clearance couch and recliner I picked out.
He was inspecting a dresser to buy me that I insisted I didn’t need—I could really use it though—and I wandered to a nursery set. The heathered-gray wood finish on the crib and the changing table reminded me of Evander’s house. This would’ve gone perfectly in the guest room; the space would’ve fit the three-drawer-wide dresser too. An extra plush glider rocker finished off the set.
Unexpected tears pricked the backs of my eyes. I spun on a heel to return to Alder’s side.
“Can I add the dresser to the shipment too?” Alder asked the older woman who owned the shop.
Hattie grinned from behind the counter. “Add anything you like, and I’ll make it happen. When would you like it? I’ve got a crew working Wednesday evenings and Saturdays if weekdays don’t work for you.”
I arranged the delivery time for Wednesday. Four days in a metal chair. I’d survive.
Okay. I was set. Alder wandered through a display of welded items, and I followed.
There was a firepit with an intricate grill that was nicer than it should be for something that would see nothing but flames, two horseshoe crosses, and a set of bar stools. But it was the cutest little end table that caught my eye. The lacquered wooden top was nice enough, but the supports underneath it called to my chemist’s heart. Two metal connections hooked the tabletop on one end and connected to two half-circle points on the bottom. Three metal rungs stretched between the half circles.
Hattie appeared at my elbow. “A local artist makes those. I’ve sold his work for years.”
“I wonder if he knows he made an acetylene structure with his weld.”
Alder and Hattie both tilted their heads to inspect the end table.
I pointed to the three rungs. “Three bonds between the two carbons. The half circles.” I indicated the metal bar attaching the half circles to the wooden top. “The hydrogen bonds. I mean, technically, there’s only one wooden slab and not two things to mimic hydrogen, but…it’s ironic, right? Acetylene structure. Welding.” I waited for the scoffing. Irony had no place in science according to the stiffs I used to hang out with.
“Huh. That is cool,” Hattie said. “I’ll have to ask him. He’ll be delighted at the coincidence if it isn’t intentional.”
“Oh. Cool.” Pleased, I played with the collar of my shirt. “Tell him it’s an amazing table.”
“Are you interested in it?”
Yes. Absolutely.
I also didn’t want this gorgeous piece of art in a house I could barely lock. “I was just admiring it. Thank you, though.”
“Do you want it?” Alder asked.
The price glared at me in bold red numbers. Yes, I did want it, but the table cost more than the couch Alder had bought me. He could afford it and probably everything in this place, but my pride would not let him spend more money. He was already giving me his time, and that was more than I’d had with my oldest brother for years.
I smiled, hiding the yearning. The dark finish of the wood on the table would make all the wood in my house weep. “The less I move into that house, the less I have to move out. Should we go eat?”
“All right.”
I waved goodbye to Hattie.
“I’m taking you out,” I announced when we were in the pickup. “And I’m craving steak Alfredo.” Mostly the pasta. And the escape from the house.
“Twist my arm. Let’s try that new place. ”
“If you mean Rattler’s, I think it’s been open for years.”
He smirked. “If it wasn’t here when we lived here, then it’s new.”
We approached the restaurant. The outside looked like most newer bar and grills. Lots of wood architecture, a peaked gable over the entrance, and wide picture windows with decorative sections. Alder parked on the less crowded side of the parking lot. More cars pulled in behind us. When we got to the door, he opened it for me. I stepped in and was greeted by a broad back I knew all too well.
Evander was at the hostess station, and a paper bag with Rattler’s logo of a rattlesnake around a mug of beer on the side was on the stand next to him. He was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.
I stopped, and Alder bumped into me. “Dang, Violet. You’re blocking the way.”
At my name, Evander whipped his head around.
It’d been two weeks since I’d seen him, but the time had stretched longer than the three months between our first and second meeting.
“Thank you,” the young hostess said, her voice chipper. “Enjoy your food.”
Evander grabbed the handles of the bag without looking, shock rippling through his gaze. “Violet?”
“Evander.” Someday, I’d be able to say his name without sounding breathless.
Alder tensed next to me. “You’re kidding.”
“Small town,” I muttered.
Evander’s steely gaze landed on Alder. His hand squeezed tighter on his purchase until recognition flared in his eyes.
Did he think—of course he did. The last I’d told him I was going to find a man to marry. He didn’t know I had no intention to. Thankfully, Alder and I looked like siblings. We both had dark hair, only Alder no longer kept his long enough to feature his natural curls. His eyes were a darker blue than mine, and he was nine inches taller than me, but the resemblance had been commented on all our lives.
People pushed through the door behind us. I stepped to the side. Did I give Evander a nod or breeze past him? The last time I saw him, he had my nipple in his mouth shortly before we fought.
I was not used to navigating waters like these.
Evander’s gaze dropped to my stomach. I had on loose basketball shorts that fell to the tops of my knees and an old UCSD T-shirt I had never worn because it was too big. I had to shop for maternity clothes soon, but these had been fine for moving.
Had I known I’d run into the man who’d kicked my heart out the door and slammed the locks shut behind it, I might’ve chosen differently.
“Did you get the results?” I kept my tone light, but I really wanted to demand why he hadn’t reached out. Of course he’d gotten the results. Someone could’ve walked from the testing lab to Coal Haven and hand-delivered them by now.
His nod was curt. “You know what they are.”
“Without a doubt,” I responded, and he winced.
I got a little satisfaction from his reaction. So why hadn’t he messaged to tell me I was right and he wanted to move forward? It’d been a month since he learned I was expecting.
I hardly knew this man, yet I felt like I was begging for scraps of his attention. “Okay. Well. See you around.” I nudged my brother to keep going. He didn’t move. Neither did Evander.
“Did you get that job?” Evander asked. “At the refinery?”
“Yep.” I shoved Alder’s shoulder. He was slightly more movable than a mountain, but he didn’t budge.
More people flowed around us. All the tables would be full before this showdown was over.
“Where are you living?” Evander asked.
“In town” was all I gave him.
His eyes darkened. “We should talk.”
My patience snapped. I’d been low-key spoiled by my parents since I told them I was pregnant. My siblings had all called to talk about the baby and my job, and Alder had taken the whole weekend to help me move. I’d gotten attention and affection from my loved ones. They reaffirmed why I left California. And why I’d left Evander’s house. “You have my number. You’ve had my number for the last two weeks.”
His cheek twitched. “Violet?—”
“Enjoy your food.” I hooked Alder’s elbow and towed him around a stunned Evander.
“There are two of us,” I said to the young hostess.
And when Alder was gone, there would only be me.
Evande r
I sat on the top step of my porch. The more I sat out here, the more the kittens wanted to play and cuddle. The more I remembered the tinkle of Violet’s laughter when she’d do the same with them.
A week had passed since I’d run into Violet at the restaurant. My blood still boiled at the initial thought that she’d been on a date. I hadn’t recognized Alder at first, but I’d seen his stubborn expression, the set of his mouth, the slope of his nose before. His sister had the same features.
Only her eyes picked up the violet hue. They flashed with more indignation. A sign with no words that said I’m sick of your shit .
Yeah. I might be sick of my shit too.
My ego pointed out that women usually put a lot more time in before they wrote me off, making Violet the smartest person I’d ever dated.
You didn’t date, jackass. You fucked her and then treated her like shit.
My phone was on the railing above me. The damn thing had been quiet. I had no soldiers who needed to call me anymore. Mom had taken to just driving out when she wanted to visit. We’d had lunch once, and she’d brought a rhubarb pie as dessert.
There was no one else to call me.
You have my number. You’ve had my number for the last two weeks. So much of what Violet had said haunted me.
We really did have to talk. I didn’t want to be an absentee dad, but I was also still wrapping my head around the idea of being a dad in the first place.
As if she wasn’t doing the same being a mom. Fuck, I was a dick. I had to talk to her .
Before I could question myself, I grabbed my phone and tapped out a message. Where are you living?
There. I texted her.
Several minutes went by. I continued to stare at my screen.
Goddammit. I put the thing down and scratched around Flo’s ears.
Was Violet going to ignore me? It was her right.
Should I drive around town looking for her car? Too stalkerish?
My phone buzzed. I snatched it up so fast I scared Flo off my lap. I’m fine, thank you. How are you?
My lips twitched. I started typing out How are you feel— I deleted it. She saw through my shit. Puke on anyone’s lawn lately?
All my food has stayed down. Especially all the pasta I’ve been eating.
Was that a pregnancy thing? Was she getting enough to eat? Did she make it herself, or was she worn out after work? Steak tortellini?
Steak Alfredo .
I waited for more. Nothing. Damn. Mind telling me where you live in case anything comes up?
The blue house adjacent to the elementary school.
Good. She finally answered.
Yeah, when you don’t act like a caveman . Can we talk about how this is going to work?
We can draft a custody agreement for after the birth.
No, goddammit. I just wanted to talk to her. I wanted to see her .
The desire went one way. Fine, but can we talk in person about it first? Casually? No fucking lawyers.
Too many minutes went by before she answered. I’ll be home by six the rest of the week.
I’ll be there tomorrow.
Was I rushing? Maybe. But I’d dragged my feet for weeks, so it was time to move forward and figure out where the fuck I was going.