Chapter Eighteen
I t was Sunday, and since the tattoo shop was closed, Sam liked to help at the Winters’ Family Christmas Tree Farm, especially the first week after Thanksgiving when it was the busiest. Sam lifted a big Douglas fir into the back of the Andersons’ truck and tied it down with straps. They passed him a ten as a thank-you, and he told them to have a nice day before he headed back toward the tent. He noticed several trucks pull up, and he watched in horror as Wren and all her family got out of several vehicles, identical glowers on their faces except for the small child, who was grinning from ear to ear. Wren’s big dog sat by her side, watching her. The kid took hold of Wren’s hand and dragged her toward the tent.
Sam ducked into a row of trees, and Wren didn’t notice him, but her dad did. Sam gave the older man a small wave, and he responded with a slight incline of his head. They hadn’t spoken much since Sam had returned to town, and without Wren as a note of contention between them, Robert’s hostility had dissolved to mild tolerance.
Sam went back into the tent where Clark and some of the other guys were flocking trees. Clark looked up as Sam approached, watching him steadily. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?”
“No one,” Sam said.
“You look upset,” Nick Winters said, sliding a flocked tree through the net.
Sam didn’t like that his emotions seemed to be written all over his face lately. “Not really. I’m just tired. Had a late one at the Den with Ricki last night.”
“Oh yeah? Are you guys back together?” Clark asked.
“We were never together. We’ve been friends with a few perks.”
Clark nodded. “It’s good to have friends.”
Sam noticed Wren and her family walk by the front of the tent and head farther down the row of trees. Although he didn’t want to have a big group talk with her family, Sam wanted to at least let her know he was here for whatever she needed.
Sam patted Clark’s shoulder. “Good talk.”
He headed out of the tent, making a right in the direction the Littles had gone. Sam walked down several of the rows, pretending to be inspecting the trees, when he spotted them again. Wren had lost her little companion and was walking in silence with her dad and her dog. As they slowed to a stop in front of a cluster of trees, something changed, and suddenly, it wasn’t so silent. There were rumblings between them that started in low and then started to grow.
Sam snorted. He needed to stop watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas with Jace.
“You have absolutely no say in how I live my life now. I’m a grown woman.”
“It’s not control. It’s called parenting.”
“You tried ‘parenting’ me nineteen years ago, and that didn’t work out so well, did it?”
Sam heard the pain in Wren’s voice, and he clenched his fists, flashing back to that last day he’d shown up at her house and her father answered the door. The shorter man had stepped into Sam, making him stumble back off the porch.
I’m going to tell you this once. If you can’t stay away from my daughter, you should leave town before I call the Mistletoe PD.
You’re going to call the cops on me? Sam had asked, completely thrown. Wren’s dad had never been warm and fuzzy, but this aggressive hostility was new .
If you don’t leave her alone? You bet your ass.
Sam closed his eyes, pushing the past back where it belonged. Robert Little’s voice deepened to a guttural growl. “Only because you didn’t learn anything.”
“What was I supposed to learn, Dad? Not to fall in love? Well, congratulations, that’s exactly what I learned, and that is why I never want to get married. I saw what falling in love did to you after Mom left, and I don’t want to go through that.”
Sam took a step back, guilt needling him as he listened to Wren pour out her heart to her dad. This conversation wasn’t meant for him, but it was as if his feet were rooted to the ground.
“I didn’t tell you not to fall in love. I just didn’t want you to throw your life away on a boy with a motorcycle who wasn’t gonna go anywhere.”
While his pride stung, Sam figured he deserved it. If he was going to listen in on the private conversations of others, he should expect to hear unpleasant opinions on his character.
“But he did end up going somewhere,” Wren said softly.
Her father scoffed. “What, back to Mistletoe to work in a tattoo shop?”
“First, he went to Oregon, and he spent years honing his craft. Sam’s been saving for years to buy his own shop, and now he’s really close to doing that. Just because his goals don’t align with yours—”
“Why are you defending him to me now?” her father asked. “Is there something going on between you?”
“No, but your railing against Sam is just part of my issue! I am talking about your opinion on my choices and how they are not the be-all and end-all.” Wren took a deep shuddering breath, a sound of frustration and concession. “I left and went to college. I finished my degree. I am doing exactly what you wanted, which is putting myself first. I am thirty-five years old, and I want to be a mom.”
“You have children with a life partner,” Robert argued gruffly. “You don’t just have children because you want to. There is a time and a place—”
“I hate to break it to you, Dad, but people have children every day who don’t have life partners. Who don’t have their crap together, or it’s not the perfect time for them. Just because you don’t agree with my choices doesn’t mean they aren’t valid.”
Sam wanted to cheer her on for standing up for herself.
“How are you going to do this? You’re really going to get pregnant by a Popsicle? You wouldn’t even know if the guy had weird quirks that could show up later in the kid.”
Sam froze, the reality of what they were discussing sinking in. Wren wanted to have kids by insemination?
“Those won’t affect me. Anything medical, they test for.”
Robert sighed. “Do what you want. You always have, and there’s nothing I can do about it. However, you’d be better off picking a man you at least know than going off and having a stranger’s child.”
Her dad stormed right for Sam, and when they spotted each other, Sam stepped out from behind the tree, trying not to look suspicious. “I was just picking out a tree for one of our elderly customers.”
Her dad pointed at Sam. “This guy would be better than anything you got cooked up right now. At least we know who his family is.”
Sam took another step into the aisle until he could see Wren. She shuffled her feet from side to side, giving him an embarrassed look. “I guess I don’t have a partner to find a tree with, huh?”
“I can help you find a tree,” Sam said, guilt eating him up inside. Not only had he eavesdropped, but then he’d allowed himself to be ammunition in her dad’s argument.
“Thanks,” she said, holding the tree saw in her hand, “but you don’t have to. I’m sure it’s really busy up there.”
“I don’t mind if you want the company.”
“What about the other customers?” she asked.
“Other... Oh—” Sam grinned sheepishly. “They can wait.”
“Then why not?” she said, sounding tired and defeated.
They walked along the rows of trees in silence for several minutes, neither of them willing to break the ice. Finally, Sam couldn’t stand the tension anymore and said, “So, I know I’m supposed to pretend like I didn’t hear anything—”
“But you did,” she finished for him.
“Sorry about that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I was going to try to catch you alone to talk to you about what happened yesterday, but then I heard you arguing with your dad, and I didn’t want to get in the middle of it. Only I couldn’t get out of there without somebody noticing me, and I decided it was better if I didn’t move.”
“It’s fine, Sam. If anyone was going to overhear us airing our dirty laundry, I’m glad it was you. At least you can relate to some of it.”
“Yeah, it took me back for a minute. Your dad can sure be...”
“Overbearing? Unreasonable? Obnoxious?”
“There are probably a few more adjectives I could come up with, but I’ll keep them to myself.” Sam went back and forth in his head on whether to broach the topic and ended up diving in with, “Not that it was any of my business, but did I hear that you want to have a baby?”
“Yes, I do,” she said defensively. “I don’t feel like I need to be married or in a relationship to do that, but apparently the rest of my family doesn’t agree.”
“Why do you care what they think?” he asked, shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket. “It’s what’s best for you.”
“Yes, but I also believe that a child needs a village, which is something you lose if your family doesn’t support you. I just wish they could understand this hole inside of me. It’s like a driving force of need.”
“Sometimes you can build a new family if your real family isn’t being there for you the way that you need them to be.” Sam thought about the Winters and all the friends he’d met since moving back. “If that is the case, you find people who will step up and have your back no matter what.”
“I guess before I completely cut my family off, I should first figure out how I’m going to do this. I don’t want to have a one-night stand with someone I don’t know and end up with an STD reminding me of my mistake the rest of my life.” She sighed, tugging on a strand of her hair nervously. “I posted an ad on a dating site, but so far the few potential responses I’ve gotten haven’t panned out.”
Sam blinked at her in surprise. “Your profile picture wouldn’t be you in a black nightie with your back turned?”
Wren’s face flushed. “You found that.”
“I did.” Another thought occurred to him, but he was afraid to ask. “When we had sex, you said that I didn’t have to wear a condom. I realize that I should have asked, but are you on the pill?”
Wren’s gaze dropped to the toe of her boot. “No.”
“So, when we had unprotected sex, was that you trying to use me to have a kid?”
“No!” She audibly swallowed, her voice low and shaky. “When you were asking me, your hands were doing spectacular things, and I got carried away. I wanted to feel you and figured one time wouldn’t hurt.”
“Then the next night you came back for seconds?” he asked, sifting through his thoughts to figure out how this development made him feel. If any other woman had omitted important information like whether they were on the pill, he’d be losing his shit right now, but with Wren? Getting her accidentally pregnant didn’t send him into a blind panic, and that made him wonder if he’d officially entered a mid-life crisis where his biological clock was ticking, or if he just wanted to make Wren happy because he had such strong feelings for her.
“I love being with you, Sam,” she said, reaching for him. “That was something I hadn’t banked on when I came back. Wanting you.”
Her honesty hit him right in the stomach, sending a painful burst of butterflies beating their wings inside his rib cage. As much as he loved hearing that she wanted him, Sam didn’t see being her fuck buddy as a sustainable position.
“And the traditional route of meeting someone, falling in love, getting married, and then having kids is out of the question?” She shot him a dark look, and he held his hands up. “I’m just asking.”
Wren sighed heavily, stopping next to a bushy tree with her shoulders slumped forward. “I watched my parents argue over every decision for six years. Every birthday or sport or school activity could put them at each other’s throats. They were miserable together, so I understand my mom leaving. What has torn me up is my mother couldn’t be bothered to take any of her kids with her. She left all of us and never bothered to make a phone call or send a birthday card. When I went to see her after I graduated, I thought there would be a moment where we fell into each other’s arms and cried. Instead, she had told me what a relief it had been to not have to be a wife and mother anymore.” Sam watched her eyes shimmer as she stared into the branches, lost in the painful memory. “As I sat across from her on those cream couches, with the art on the walls and the perfectly posed pictures of her with her boyfriend on the mantel above the fireplace, something broke inside of me. I realized that her relationship with my dad poisoned her relationship with us.” Wren met his gaze through the green branches, her jaw locked with tension. “I don’t ever want to resent my child because her father and I couldn’t work it out.”
“You’re not your mother, Birdy,” Sam said, taking a step closer to wipe a tear from her cheek. “You already know what she did was wrong. That your parents both made mistakes. While I think your dad is wrong in so many instances, he is the one who stuck around. Not being wanted by your mother has nothing to do with you or your dad; it has everything to do with her.”
“How can you say that? People don’t just have four kids and wake up one day done with their lives. They don’t suddenly decide to stop being a parent.” Her voice softened as his arms gingerly went around her, bringing her against him. Her dog let out a low growl, and Sam hesitated.
She didn’t fight or try to push away. Instead, she softly said, “Down,” and rested her cheek against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist, mumbling against his shirtfront, “It has to be something more than that.”
“I can’t answer that. I’m going to go out on a limb, though, and tell you that her decision is why you’re so strong. So sure of yourself and what you think is best for you. All qualities that are incredibly admirable.”
Wren looked up at him with her chin on his chest, smile trembling. “You think so, huh?”
“Obviously. Women who speak their minds and are independent are superhot.” Sam was keeping it light and flirty, when what he wanted to say was that she was incredible. That she was special.
“See, now I feel like you’re buttering me up for something.”
“No, I respect the fact that you don’t want anything more between us, and I’m being a supportive friend.” Sam pulled back, meeting her eye. “I’m willing to stay within your boundaries if I still get to spend time with you. Whatever you need.”
“So, you are willing to just be in a situationship with me and not ask for anything more if that’s what I want?”
“That’s what I’m saying, yeah.”
Wren smiled brilliantly, backing out of his embrace. “I’ll keep that in mind. Come, Duke. We still need to find a tree.”
Sam stood back, watching her and the big dog walk away.
“You do that,” he said, grinning as he trailed behind the pair. It wasn’t much, but it was something.