Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
BLUE
You can’t always protect the people you love.
I learned that the hard way.
When I left the Children of the Storm, I knew I’d probably never see my friends or family again.
I wouldn’t even be aware of the troubles they were facing, let alone be able to step in to lend a hand.
Relationships with people outside the community are strictly forbidden, even for sisters and brothers, husbands and wives.
I received the notice that my marriage had been annulled in the dorm mailroom a few months after the start of classes at the University of Nebraska.
I cried. Quietly. In the empty package room.
I don’t know if Lisbeth cried. I don’t know if anything I could have said to her would have given her comfort, if she did. I wasn’t given the chance to try.
And now…
Well, there’s nothing I can say to fix the pain that has Beatrice staring out the window as I drive, her eyes glazed with regret.
I’ve already held her, told her that I love her, and promised I’ll help sort things out however she thinks is best. But Nix is her brother, and the choice to keep the father of her child a secret from him was hers. This is her battle to fight.
But fuck, it hurts to see her hurting.
To see her beating herself up and not at least try to ease her pain.
“You had a hell of a lot of your plate, Bea,” I say as we slow at a red light.
“Just dealing with the fallout after Kai would have broken a lot of people. Let alone the stress of moving to a new city, writing and recording your first solo album, and accidentally getting pregnant by a guy so busy pushing you away he didn’t realize he was in love with you until you were halfway around the world. ”
She glances my way, her lips twitching the tiniest bit before settling back into their downward swoop. “Thanks, but you don’t have to make excuses for me.”
“I’m not,” I insist. “I’m reminding you that you’re human. And even the strongest humans don’t have an unlimited capacity for dealing with stressful shit.”
“I know I’m strong. The parts of me I’m aware of most of the time, anyway, but…
” She pulls in a breath, holding it for a beat before adding in a softer voice, “But what about all the other parts? The parts Kai twisted before I was old enough to know better? The parts that never had a chance to grow up right because I hooked up with a sociopath before my prefrontal cortex was done…prefrontal cortexing or whatever.”
She laughs, but I can hear how close the tears are to the surface.
“What if this isn’t just a conflict avoidance thing I need to work on?
What if there’s something seriously fucked up in here?
” Her voice gets smaller, wobblier. “Something that will hurt her, no matter how hard I try not to? Even though that’s the last thing I ever want to do. ”
I take the next right, grateful when I turn onto a relatively quiet street lined with shuttered bodegas and a tire store promising to recycle your old tires for no extra charge. I pull over and shift into park, leaving the engine running because her hair is still wet and the air is cool tonight.
“Hey, look at me,” I whisper, taking her hands in mine as she turns my way.
I curl my fingers around hers, willing away the chill clinging to her skin.
“You have blind spots. Of course, you do. We all do. Anyone who tells you they don’t is done growing, and I don’t trust people who are done growing.
I don’t ever want to stop, and I know you don’t, either. ”
“I know, but what if I’m not growing fast enough?
” Her eyes fill again as she says in a rush, “Or what if I’m not even aware of where I need to grow?
What if I’m completely blind to my shitty spots?
And I stay that way long enough for Bean to decide I’m a clueless, lazy old grown-up who doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a kid?
What if she feels all alone and miserable, the way I did when I was a teenager?
My parents loved me, Archer. It wasn’t a matter of them not loving me.
It was just that they didn’t get me. They hadn’t done the work that I needed them to do to understand where I was coming from. They still haven’t.”
I run my thumb over her knuckles, tracing the delicate ridge, offering what physical comfort I can when we’re trapped on opposite sides of the console.
“Then you’ll see it coming, and you’ll adjust before it’s too late.
I will, too. There’s no doubt in my mind about that, Bea.
People who gloss over the growing they need to do, don’t work themselves into tears worrying about being what their daughter needs at fifteen while she’s still in the womb.
You’re going to be fine. Better than fine.
You’ll be the kind of mother all Bean’s friends will wish they had.
One who’s there on the battlefield beside her, learning and fighting no matter how hard things get. ”
Beatrice’s bottom lip trembles as she searches my face. “Really?”
“Really,” I promise.
She blinks faster. “Thank you. For believing in me.”
“Ditto,” I whisper.
“But we have to stop calling her Bean,” she adds after a beat. “Grammercy introduced me to his mom the other day after the game. Guess what her name is?”
“Beanie,” I say with a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve met her. She’s great.”
“Super great,” Beatrice agrees. “But two Beans would be confusing, not to mention our Bean would probably appreciate a more thoughtful name. I was thinking a mix of beautiful and bold, so she has options to choose from once she decides how she wants to show up in the world. Maybe something to honor the people who matter most? Like…Charlotte Baylor Blue Nix, maybe?”
“That sounds perfect.” I tighten my grip on her now-warm fingers. “So does calling her ours.”
Bea’s lips curve. “Well, she is ours. Even if we break up and decide we hate each other, she’ll always be ours.”
“I don’t want to break up and hate each other,” I say, holding her gaze. “I want to stay right here and love you. Always.”
Her eyes start to shine again, but she smiles as she nods. “I mean, duh. Should we just get married, do you think? Or kick it down the road until we decide it’s time to give Bean a brother or sister and worry about it then?”
My throat locks.
Before I realize what’s happening, I’m choked up, too.
Really choked up. So messed up by the beauty of everything she just said that Bea ends up unbuckling her seat belt, climbing up to sit on the console, and wrapping her arms around me while I cry.
I cling to her waist like a kid, face pressed to the top of her belly, where Bean is shifting ever so slightly, also seeming to assure me that it’s okay.
It’s okay to drop my guard and trust.
We’re really going to do this. Be a family. For keeps.
A few minutes later, I reach the end of the rush of feeling and tell Beatrice, “I don’t care if we ever get married. As long as I get to spend the rest of my life being yours.”
She nods, happy tears on her cheeks. “And I’ll be yours. And we’ll be a team, and we’ll get through the hard times. No matter what.”
“Damned straight, we will.”
She sighs. Nods. Then sighs again as she slides back into the passenger’s seat. “Okay, let’s go see Baylor and get this sorted before you have to run into him at practice tomorrow.”
“I doubt he’ll cause a scene if you want to wait a day or two,” I say. “But I don’t think you do.”
“I don’t,” she assures me, buckling her belt. “Let’s do this. I’m ready.”
Turns out, Charlotte’s ready, too.
She opens the door before we reach the front porch steps, looking relieved. “I thought you might swing by,” she whispers, nodding over her shoulder. “Come on in. He’s in the kitchen.”
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice says as we step into the foyer. “Really, Charlotte. I’m so sorry.”
Charlotte waves a hand. “It’s fine, honey.
You know I love you, but in the scheme of things, we’ve only been friends a very short time.
You don’t owe me anything here, not even an explanation.
” She shoots a pointed glance down the hall before adding, “It’s Baylor who needs more. He’s just…really hurt and confused.”
“Right.” Bea nods, pulling in a breath as she stands up straighter. “Right, then I’ll… I’ll do my best to fix that.”
Charlotte rests a hand on her shoulder. “That’s all you can do.”
As Beatrice starts into the kitchen, Char shifts her gaze my way with an empathetic wince.
“Thanks,” I tell her as we follow Bea at a distance.
“No need to thank me,” she whispers. “Don’t let it go to your head, but if I had to pick a baby daddy from all the men in New Orleans, you’d be it.”
I smile, so flattered I’m not sure how to respond.
Charlotte grins. “It went to your head, didn’t it?”
I nod. “A little.”
Before I can say more, we reach the edge of the kitchen, where Beatrice faces Nix across the island just a few feet away. He sits on the far side, a half-finished beer and an untouched sandwich in front of him, a man who came home and tried to get back to normal, but failed.
“I’m sorry I fucked this up, Bay,” Bea says, proving she knows her brother.
Nix would always rather cut through the bullshit and get real, especially when he’s hurting.
And he’s hurting now, it’s clear in every tense muscle in his jaw, in the skin around his eyes that draws tighter as he says, “I just want to know why you hide things from me, Bea. It drives me crazy. I mean, things like my best friend being the father of your baby… Yeah, that fucks with my head, and I don’t like it.
Not even a little bit. But it’s not dangerous.
” He doesn’t so much as glance my way, leaving little doubt that I’m on his shit list, too.
Which is fine. I should be.
But we’ll work through our drama later, after he and Beatrice get things right between them.