The Bromance Book Club Page 7

  “I want to ride with Mommy,” Ava said, gripping her hand.

  Gavin flinched as her words hit their mark, but he managed to smile. “Amelia can ride with me, and Ava with you.”

  They were parked on opposite ends of the lot, so they parted ways on the sidewalk. Amelia held his hand tightly and started to swing her arm back and forth. “Ava th-leeps with Mommy every night,” she said, hopping off the curb.

  His chest shifted at her lisp. Thea had reassured him several times that it was no reason to worry, but he did. Having a stutter was no reason to be ashamed, of course, but it took Gavin a long time to be at peace with his. He’d endured way too much bullying as a kid and a teenager to not be worried about the idea that his own daughters could face the same thing.

  “Every night, huh?” he said, finally catching up to what Amelia had told him.

  “She wakes up and gets in with Mommy, but not me. I sleep in my own bed all night. She calls me a baby because I don’t like thunder, but she’s a baby because she’s afraid of the dark.”

  Gavin paused along a row of parked cars and crouched down to be eye level with her. “It’s not very nice to call each other babies, honey. It’s normal to be afraid of things.” The words of fatherly wisdom rolled off his tongue, but his brain was distracted. Since when was Ava afraid of the dark? “Even grown-ups are afraid of things. It doesn’t make us babies, does it?”

  Amelia shook her head. Gavin smiled and stood. They started walking again, but they hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Amelia asked. “What are you afraid of, Daddy?”

  Losing you and your mom, he thought, his throat thickening. It seemed his daughters were determined to destroy him emotionally today. He swallowed against the lump. “Clowns,” he said, exaggerating a shudder. “Big red shoes and squeaky noses.”

  Then he grabbed her under the arms, hoisted her onto his shoulders, and reveled in her squeal of joy.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “There they are.”

  Thea pointed as Gavin’s SUV turned into Stella’s parking lot. She and Ava had been waiting on a bench outside the restaurant for about five minutes. Gavin must have gotten caught in the post-play parking jam. Which was fine, because Thea needed a minute— or five—to calm down. And not because Gavin told her to, but because he had. When had a woman ever calmed down because a man told her to do so?

  The only thing that was going to make her calm down was for this night to be over. She could’ve killed him for suggesting Stella’s in front of the girls. He should have known they would cling to the idea and beg to do it.

  Thea stood as Gavin and Amelia crossed the parking lot. She turned away from his smile, but somehow his hand once again found a place on the small of her back. She stiffened, and he let it fall away.

  “Well, look who’s here,” said Ashley, a waitress who had worked at Stella’s as long as they’d been eating there, when they walked in. “Haven’t seen you guys since the summer.” She gasped dramatically at the girls’ faces. “Oh my gosh, I don’t think we serve deer here.”

  “We’re fawns,” Amelia corrected happily. “We had a school musical today!”

  “A school musical? You aren’t old enough for that. I refuse to believe it.” Ashley winked at Thea and nodded for them to follow her. “Your favorite booth is open.”

  This is what Thea loved about living in a small town. They were regulars here with their own booth. Was there anything more comforting than a place where everyone knew your names and the menu never changed? It was the kind of simple tradition Thea and Liv had never known as kids. Would it seem less special for the girls once they stopped coming as a quartet and moved on as a trio?

  The girls followed Ashley through the maze of tables decorated with red-checkered tablecloths and vases of fresh flowers that were refilled every morning. Each window was bracketed by white farmhouse shutters on which Stella had draped twine for hanging snapshots of customers and their families. Including theirs. That was going to be awkward in a few months.

  The girls slid in on opposite sides of the table, and Thea let out the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t want to sit next to Gavin, which was childish, but still.

  “Y’all want your usual to drink?” Ashley asked as they all settled in. “Two waters and two chocolate milks?”

  “Sounds great,” Gavin answered. “Thanks.”

  “I want the grilled cheese,” Amelia said, scampering onto her knees and leaning her elbows on the table. “And applesauce.”

  “What do you want, honey?” Thea asked Ava. “You want the grilled cheese too?”

  Ava shrugged. Thea held in a sigh. She couldn’t let this sullen behavior go on much longer, because Ava was venturing into outright disrespect, but Thea wasn’t going to say anything now. Tonight was tense enough already. Besides, she wasn’t going to punish her daughter for the crime of being a child and expressing her confusion the only way a child knew how. Adults expected too much of children sometimes.

  Once, in the weeks after her father filed for divorce, Thea’s mother locked herself in her room for days. When Thea knocked one day to complain she was hungry, her mother screamed at her to grow up and to stop being so selfish.

  Thea had been ten. She and Liv learned to cook for themselves after that.

  Thea planned to make sure the girls received age-appropriate counseling after the divorce—something else she and Liv probably would have benefited from. Hopefully, that would help Ava adjust to the new reality of her world.

  The waitress wandered over with their drinks and took their order before leaving them again in strained silence.

  “Daisies,” Gavin suddenly said, staring at the jar in the center of the table. He smiled at Amelia. “Mommy had a daisy in her hair the first time I saw her.”

  Amelia giggled. “She did?”

  “I did?”

  Gavin looked at her. “It was woven into your braid.”

  “Why did you have a daisy in your braid, Mommy?” Amelia asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember that.”

  “That’s too bad,” Gavin said quietly. “Because I’ve never forgotten it.”

  “Mommy likes dandelions,” Ava grumped.

  Thea blinked several times and tore her gaze away from Gavin, who was studying her again like he did during the theater. Like he did on Saturday. As if seeing her for the first time. Maybe he was. It had been years since she felt like he saw her at all.

  Thea smoothed Ava’s hair. “Dandelions from you will always be my favorite.”

  Awkwardness hung in the air like a thick layer of humidity. Thea pulled out the crayons and coloring books she always carried in her purse to keep the girls occupied when they were out. This time, though, Thea was using them to occupy herself. She helped Ava color a picture for several minutes until Gavin cleared his throat.

  “So,” Gavin started, toying with his glass of water. “Wh-when are you going back to school?”

  Thea kept her eyes locked on the coloring book. “If I’m accepted, I’ll start classes this summer.”

  “So it’s just for one semester?”

  She snorted. “I wish. Maybe if I went full time, but that’s not really possible with the girls. I hope to be done in eighteen months.”

  “Eighteen months,” he repeated. “That, uh, that seems doable.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  “And then what? I mean, after you have your degree?”

  “I’ll pursue an art career. Just like I always planned.”

  He hesitated a long moment before responding to that one. “That’s, uh, that’s great,” he said. “I’m glad to see you return to your art.”

  “So am I.”

  Their food arrived, and the busy task of helping the girls eat while trying to also get some food into themselves stifled any other conversation, thankfully. Midw
ay through dessert—a brownie skillet that they always shared as a family—Stella herself emerged from the back and wandered over to their table to chat.

  “I was just thinking about y’all,” she said. “Been ages since you’ve been in.”

  “We’ve been busy,” Thea said automatically, the lie so natural that she almost believed it herself. “The girls are in preschool now and taking dance classes, so it’s hard to get out.”

  “Y’all have any plans for the holidays?”

  “Nothing concrete,” Thea said.

  Amelia looked up with a chocolate ring around her mouth. “We’re going to see Grammy and Papa in Ohio for ’Sanksgiving.”

  Ah, shit. Thea hadn’t yet told the girls that their plan to visit Gavin’s parents was cancelled. She’d hoped they’d forgotten about it since it had been more than two months since she and Gavin had even talked about it. But little girls rarely forgot about trips to see grandparents who spoiled them.

  “Well, that was our plan, but, um—” Thea searched the air for an excuse but came up empty. Her ability to lie on command was quickly losing power. “But it turns out we’re just going to be sticking around here.”

  “But I want to go see Grammy!” Amelia whined.

  “Me too,” Ava said, her voice an octave higher than Amelia’s.

  Thea rested a hand on Ava’s leg. “Sweetie, we’ll talk about it later.”

  “But why can’t we go?” Amelia asked.

  “Amelia,” Gavin said quietly but firmly. “Mommy said w-we’ll talk about it at home later.”

  “But you don’t come home anymore!”

  The record-screeching silence that followed was so cartoonishly comical, Thea half expected to hear the chirp of crickets next. “Well,” Stella said, her cheeks pinking as she failed at pretending she had no idea that Amelia had just announced to the entire restaurant that Thea and Gavin were separated. “It was awfully nice to see y’all again. I’ll leave you to your dessert.”

  She walked away, and then the real chaos started.

  “Can we please go to Grammy’s?” Amelia asked.

  “Not this year, honey,” Gavin said.

  “But why not?”

  “I’m too busy with baseball stuff, sweetie.”

  Ava slumped in her seat, her lips pouty.

  “Can Daddy read to us tonight?” Amelia said.

  Thea dug her fingertips into her temple. “Honey, Daddy can’t do that tonight, OK?”

  “Why not?” Amelia asked, her lip beginning to quiver.

  “Hey,” Gavin said, tugging Amelia against his side. “I will read to you guys soon, OK?”

  “But I want tonight!” The dam burst. Tears fell down Amelia’s face.

  Which made Ava start crying, because that’s what twins did.

  And when Ava started crying, she got really loud. And suddenly she blurted, “I don’t want Daddy to play baseball!”

  There was another stunned silence, and then Ava began to sob louder. And then Amelia yelled, “I don’t want Daddy to play baseball either!”

  And by now the entire restaurant was staring. Gavin let out a quiet dammit under his breath and dragged his hands down his face.

  Thea’s entire body trembled as she wrapped her arm around Ava’s shoulders. “Honey, why don’t you want Daddy to play baseball?”

  Ava wiped a hand across her face, smearing the white dots from her fawn makeup into long streaks down her cheek. “Because it makes him go away, and you guys say mad words at each other.”

  Thea’s eyes shot up and collided with Gavin’s. She read her own thoughts in his eyes. “When did we say mad words at each other?” Gavin asked.

  “When Daddy hit the big home run.” Ava hiccupped. “You made fighting noises and then said mad words.”

  Heat rushed up Thea’s neck and face, followed immediately by gut-clenching comprehension. Ava had apparently woken up that night, and not only had she heard them having sex—that’s the only thing fighting noises could mean—she then heard their fight afterward.

  Thea’s head moved as if encased in a Jell-O mold as she once again lifted her gaze to Gavin. They locked eyes—his pained, hers cloudy.

  The girls were crying. People were staring. Something cold washed over her skin. Before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth and said, “You know what? How about if Daddy does come home and reads to you tonight? Would that make you feel better?”

  * * *

  • • •

  Gavin paid the bill as Thea ushered the girls out to her car. He followed them home in the dark, his hands clenching the wheel and gut churning. How long would it take for him to stop replaying Ava’s words? It makes him go away and you say mad words at each other. What the hell had he done to his children? To his family?

  He pulled into the driveway behind Thea. She refused to meet his eyes as he helped to unbuckle the girls from the back seat. Butter greeted them at the door.

  “Baths first and then Daddy can read to you?” Thea asked as she hung up the girls’ coats. Her voice had a brittle quality to it, as if she were one tense exchange away from either shattering or going full wrecking ball on the wall again.

  “I’ll let Butter out,” Gavin offered.

  Thea responded with a stiff thank-you, and he’d never felt so much like a visitor in his own house. As Thea walked upstairs with the girls, he led Butter to the back door. The smell of dust and drywall clashed with the familiar scents of home—Thea’s lotion, the lavender candles she was always burning, the undercurrent of dog, and the ever-present tang of markers and paint from the girls’ arts and crafts. By the time Butter was done circling the yard for the perfect spot to piss, Gavin could hear the tub running upstairs. He jogged upstairs and knocked on the closed bathroom door.

  “Do you want help?” he asked.

  Thea answered no.

  The sense of being a stranger returned as he hovered outside the door. He looked to his right to the master bedroom. Their bedroom. He walked toward it and stood in the open doorway. Thea hadn’t made the bed that morning, and the sight of the rumpled sheets brought a slam of regret to his stomach as powerful as a sucker punch. The last time he’d been in their bed had been that night. One of the most amazing moments of his life, followed almost immediately by the worst.

  “What are you doing?” Thea said behind him. He turned around. He hadn’t heard the bathroom door open, but his daughters now stood in the hallway with matching towels wrapped around them.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just—I’ll help get them into their pajamas.”

  Silence reigned as he and Thea worked together to dry the girls off and thread their arms and legs into matching unicorn pajamas. Thea stood then, collected the wet towels, and told them to pick out a book while she changed her clothes.

  The girls settled on a story about a raccoon who gets lost on his way to his grandma’s house for Christmas. They had just settled on Amelia’s bed when Thea walked back in. She had changed into a pair of sweatpants and his old Huntsville Rockets minor league sweatshirt, the one she’d claimed shortly after they started dating. He’d lost all coherent thought the first time he saw her in it. Something regressively possessive stole over him, as if he’d claimed her. Officially. With a sweatshirt.

  Still today, there was something about the sight of his petite wife swimming in his massive clothes that always turned him on. She probably only chose it tonight because it was easy, clean, and familiar. But for him, it held meaning and memory. She’d been wearing that very sweatshirt when she told him she was pregnant. He hadn’t been able to reach her for three days. She ignored all his calls and texts, and her coworkers at the coffee shop said she’d been calling in sick. When he finally went to her apartment and convinced her to at least open the door, he was prepared for anything. Or so he thought.

  “What are you doing here
?” she asked, hugging herself, hands hidden by the cuffs of his sweatshirt.

  Gavin braced his hands on either side of the doorframe, his practiced speech replaced by panicked bumbling the instant he saw her face. “Just talk to me. OK? W-wh-whatever it is, just say it.”

  She stared with empty eyes for a moment and then turned without a word. He watched from the doorway as she disappeared into her bathroom. Moments later, she returned, a white stick in her hands.

  Every nerve in Gavin’s body erupted as if he’d been struck by lightning. “Wh-what is that?”

  She stopped halfway across the small living room. Gavin walked in, shut the door, and crossed to where she stood. She held out the stick. He glanced down and saw a single blue plus sign.

  “You’re pregnant?” he breathed, dots of light dancing before his eyes.

  She snatched the stick back and resumed her cross-armed pose. “I’m pregnant,” she said, her voice firm, challenging, determined.

  She’d barely finished the sentence before he kissed her.

  “Are you ready to read?” Thea asked, interrupting the memory.

  “Make room for Mommy,” Gavin said. Amelia scooted closer to his side, and Thea squeezed into a tiny bit of space between the girls and the wall. There was more than enough room next to him, but pointing that out probably wouldn’t go over well.

  Gavin read as the girls snuggled against him, and every few lines he glanced at Thea. She obstinately refused to meet his gaze. When he finally finished a few minutes later, Thea sat up so fast that the bed shook. She told the girls to give her a kiss and that Daddy would tuck them in.

  Ava was the hardest to get to sleep. She only wanted Thea and needed several stuffed animals piled around her to settle down. Amelia was easier. When he tucked her in and told her everything was going to be OK, she believed him. She looked at him with trusting, hopeful eyes, curled her tiny hand into his, and whispered, “I love you, Daddy,” before falling asleep. He could barely pry himself up to leave the room.