Chapter 35
Three weeks later
“She’s not coming.” Sawyer’s voice echoes from behind me.
I heave a sigh, leaning into the brick wall on the side of the building. I had a feeling Daisy wouldn’t be back yet. But I held onto the smallest inkling of hope that she’d make an appearance for Margot’s baby shower.
It’s a small party for our little group in the café. The get-together has been great, but I think everyone feels the Daisy-sized hole in everything we do while she’s not here.
“I’m sorry,” Sawyer adds, bumping his shoulder into mine when he joins me.
“For what?” I huff. “You didn’t blow up my future. I did.”
“You’re right. But you’re wrong too.”
I cock my head in his direction. “Wanna elaborate on that?”
“I promised Gran this wouldn’t end with broken noses.”
“Shitty thing to do, y’know. Make a promise you can’t keep.”
Sawyer snorts when he hears the humor in my voice, and for the first time in a long fucking while, I feel like I have my best friend on my side again.
“What the fuck’s been going on with us?” he asks after we collect ourselves.
“You’re excused, having a fiancée and two kids on the way and all that. I’ve just been an asshole like usual.”
“You have a kid on the way now, too. Remember? And she might not be your fiancée, but you have Daisy.”
“Do I?” I laugh. “Doesn’t feel like I’ve ever had her.”
“I think you have the whole time. You both just pretend otherwise.”
I don’t respond, mostly because I’m not sure what to say.
The fact of the matter is, I’ve realized I was pretending for just about the entire time I’ve known Daisy Stiles. And when it finally came time to take off the mask, I botched it. I don’t really think I deserve more than what I have right now. I’m working on it though.
I have a bed with the left side still made, one of my old T-shirts sitting on top of the comforter waiting for Daisy to throw it on to sleep in.
The passenger side of the bench in my truck remains unoccupied, hoping for my girl to prop her socked feet up and sing along to the radio.
And there’s the ultrasound, the only proof I have of the one good thing I had a hand in creating.
I took some time off riverside work for the first time since I started to get things around the house in order.
Beth helped me build a tentative bridge with Daisy’s grandmother for the boys, both of us making sure we weren’t crossing any lines Daisy wouldn’t have been comfortable with.
Basically, we explained to Marjorie that things at home have been rocky for the twins, and they’re taking an unconventional break from their parents.
With the way she reacted, I have a hard time believing she didn’t have an inkling as to what might have been happening behind closed doors. I’m trying to not hold a grudge against the woman for turning a blind eye. She’s a great lady. I just find myself protective over Daisy, Hunter, and Chase.
After nailing down a routine and schedule that worked for all parties involved, I realized our living situation was also going to need some work.
With my house only being a two-bedroom, my party of one growing to five in the blink of an eye forced me to get creative.
I looked to my unfinished basement and committed to the project of giving Hunter and Chase a place to call their own.
I built out the framework and set up the drywall in record time, and both of the boys helped me paint after school and on the weekends.
Not to toot my own horn or anything, but it’s basically a teenage boy’s dream down there now, with the LED lights and gaming systems set up. I found a small couch and coffee table to set up too, along with two full-sized beds.
The spare room is now free to become…Well, it’s becoming a nursery. Even if I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it.
I might be making moves here in town based on the off chance Daisy decides she wants to make a home here with me. But I’m not in the business of getting my hopes up yet. I’m focusing on what I can control, right here and right now.
At least, that’s the mantra my new therapist Sue ends each of our sessions with.
Because yeah, I’m seeing a therapist.
And maybe she’s even helping me.
Okay, she’s definitely helping me.
“I’m sorry for being a dick. I could have been there for you more, and I wasn’t.”
I hang my head. “Sawyer, I mean it. You really don’t need to apologize. You were a grumpy sonofabitch before Margot. I’m used to it, in case you forgot.”
“So, we’re cool?” If you didn’t know Sawyer Hale the way I do, you wouldn’t pick up on the nerves quietly laced in his words. But the guy’s not like a brother to me, he is my brother.
“Always, brother. Always.” I pull him in for a hug. Sawyer pounds my back with a fist, and I do the same to him.
“How are things with the boys?” Sawyer asks once we’re done with our moment.
“We’re doing good. They miss Daze, obviously. But that’s what the phones are for. They keep in touch, and she lets them know she’ll be back soon. Well, Hunter does the talking. We haven’t told her about Chase yet.”
“She talking to you at all?”
I shake my head. “Nah. I haven’t put her in that position. She needs space. I’m happy to give it to her while handling this. As long as she talks to them, her grandmother, and Beth, I’m good with it.”
“And how are you doing with the uh, you know…” Sawyer trails off.
“My impending fatherhood?” I suggest with a laugh.
“Yeah,” he exhales. “Sorry, is it still a touchy subject?”
“No. I mean, am I still scared shitless? Yep. And I still don’t really know a lot. But, and please don’t shut me down right now, I kind of have a thing going, I feel like I can do this.”
“You can,” Sawyer assures me without further thought. “That was never a question, Gus. You’re the figure-it-out guy. You’re the fixer. Sometimes you just need a kick in the ass.”
“Felt that—hard. But hey. My gift is for both of you, obviously. But I kind of wanted you to see it first. Walk around back with me?”
Sawyer follows me down the alley to the back of the buildings on Main Street where my truck is parked. Sawyer’s childhood rocking chair I refinished is sitting in the bed with two pink bows tied on top.
“Gus,” Sawyer exhales. “Holy shit.”
I hoist the chair out of the truck, placing it on the ground in between us.
“There wasn’t too much damage when I found it, but I still took it apart and reinforced everything. So, it’s nice and sturdy for the late nights. I guess I could have asked you or Margot about a color preference, but all of the pictures I looked at online had this kind of stain and—”
“Gus Burton, you motherfucker,” Sawyer says, shaking his head.
“You hate it,” I guess. Shit.
“You’re dumb as rocks sometimes, you know that, right? Because this—” Sawyer grabs the backrest of the chair. “This is priceless, Gus. You gave me back a piece of my parents. Thank you.” Sawyer pulls me back in for a hug without warning.
A wave of relief washes over me. Maybe it’s embarrassing how much it means to me to have Sawyer’s approval, but I don’t care.
He’s the first person in this world who picked me as his family, unconditionally.
He’s always wanted better for me with nothing in return.
Pushing that kind of bond away isn’t an option.
“Yeah, yeah,” I choke out, patting him on the back. “You think Margot’s gonna like it?”
“This might be your ticket to early forgiveness.” He laughs, picking the chair up and tucking it under one arm.
We both re-enter the café through the back door, and when Margot spots what Sawyer’s holding, her hands fly to cover her mouth and the room collectively gasps. Sawyer places the rocking chair down in front of us.
“Oh.” A strangled sob leaves Beth’s mouth, and Melanie reaches out to grab her hand.
I clear my throat. “Happy baby shower? Is that something you’re supposed to say?”
No one answers me, so I keep going.
“Anyway, I guess I’m doing a speech. Cool.
That’s cool.” I put my hand on the backrest for something to lean on.
“Umm, well, I found this old rocking chair in the attic of my house when I first moved in. Didn’t think much of it at the time, but it felt like something worth holding onto and saving.
Kind of like another thing—or person—in my life.
But you know what? This isn’t about me. When Sawyer and Margot told us they were having twins, this chair was the first thing that popped into my head. I knew it had to mean something.”
I look around the room to see everyone is focused on me with rapt attention, like I’m a storyteller or some shit. It’s fucking terrifying, but I started this. I gotta see it through.
“And sure enough, when I pulled it down from the attic a couple days after the blueberry festival, I found an engraving on the back.” I turn the chair around to face the crowd.
I point to the hand carved words etched into the wood.
Sawyer Fern 08.08
“Obviously we don’t know when the two newest little girlies will be joining us, but I thought it’d be nice to add their names and birthday whenever they’re born.
So it’s a two-part gift, and the second half is coming.
As soon as you get to birthing, Margot.” I finish the most long-winded speech known to fucking man (at least to me) with a chuckle and hope to all that’s holy or whatever that Margot doesn’t punch me in the face like I’ve been scared of for weeks.
“Hand! Someone give me a hand!” Margot yells while flailing her arms trying to extract herself from the big chair they propped her up in. Sawyer and Red race towards her at the same time and both offer her a hand so she can stand.
Her run is more of a fast-paced waddle across the café, and I clear the remaining feet with a few steps to meet her in the middle. I bend over, enveloping Margot’s tiny body with my own as she struggles to wrap her arms around me with her pregnant bump getting in the way.
“Well, I sure as shit can’t be mad at you after that,” Margot sobs into my shirt.
“That was kind of the whole plan,” I admit.
Margot sniffles and pulls back to look up at me. “I’m not apologizing for protecting Daisy. She’s family just as much as you are—”
“I know.”
“But I am sorry you’ve been hurting,” Margot finishes. “I never want that. But things are gonna get better, yeah?”
I practically jump back when I feel something poke into me near my belly button.
“Oh!” Margot grabs hold of my wrist, pressing my palm into her stomach. “They’re saying hi,” she says in a soft voice.
I’m pretty sure my eyes bulge out of my head when the movement happens again.
“That’s Drea,” Margot tells me. “She’s the feisty one.”
Oh my God. The babies are moving in there.
“How can you tell?” I ask.
Margot shifts my hand higher, and I feel what I can only assume is another…kick? “That’s Nora. She sits higher, and she’s generally a lot more chill than her sister.”
There are real life human beings growing in Margot’s stomach right now, and I can feel them. They have personalities. And like, fingernails.
Daisy has a real life human being growing in her stomach right now. Our human being.
I’ve said it no less than five hundred times, and I’ll probably say it another five hundred more. I miss Daisy more than anything on this planet, and at this moment right now, I’d do anything to be with her.
“Gus?” Margot whispers. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here with my hand on my best friend’s fiancée’s belly in a room full of people. But it’s probably been long enough where this is considered out of the norm.
“Mhm?” I don’t look up.
“I think it’s time to bring Daisy home.”