Secrets That We Keep Page 12

  Felicity shrugged as she answered, “I called, but she wanted to eat supper with Beau and Braiden first, so I guess she’ll be here soon.”

  When Bentley finally did arrive, however, she slipped in when I didn’t catch her, right after Teagan and Caroline showed up. And those two brought along Teagan’s baby girl, Harper, who stole everyone’s attention for a minute.

  So I was surprised when I glanced around, and boom, there was Bentley, hanging back, not talking, just watching everyone else gossip and blather on.

  Very un-Bentley-like.

  When I wasn’t answering someone’s question or playing hostess, I watched her.

  The woman was beautiful. She had her mother’s coloring with deep red hair and bright blue eyes and not many of her father’s features. Fox was the one who’d taken after their dad.

  Knox Parker was an ex-ring fighter, ex-con, ex-security guard, but still currently one big and scary-looking dude. Dark hair and eyes, he’d passed on his coloring and only a portion of his bulk to his only son. And I had to say, I did not mind that in the least. Felicity and Knox had made a devastatingly handsome man together. Sometimes, Fox could look at me with those intense brown eyes of his, and I’d get overwhelmed with sensation.

  No one had ever looked at me the way he did.

  But he wasn’t my focus tonight.

  His sister was definitely acting differently. Too different. I was about to sneak over and simply hug her, except Mom passed the baby to me, knowing I wanted a turn, and I got distracted all over again with oohing and awing over little Harper, and playing with the huge pink bow headband she wore, until Aunt Julianna snagged her from me, claiming she needed extra time since she’d never be a grandma, unless her son, Cress, adopted.

  I would’ve moved toward Bentley then, but Teagan propped an elbow on my shoulder and leaned heavily on me before loudly calling across the room, “So, Luce! I gotta know more about your little bambino.”

  “M-mine?” Lucy Olivia’s eyes widened in trepidation as she eased closer to her mother, Aspen, and protectively set her hand over her stomach. “But there’s nothing to know yet. So far, I couldn’t even tell you if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  Aspen wrapped a supportive arm around Lucy’s waist. “Everything seems normal and healthy, though,” she announced. “We had our first ultrasound just the other day, and it measured seven weeks and two days along.”

  I glanced across the room toward Bentley, who went pale and sank closer to the wall as she hugged her own waist. Not even Felicity seemed to notice the move, nor did her mother-in-law.

  Oblivious, Aspen was still protectively hovering near Lucy Olivia as she caught a piece of her daughter’s hair and tucked it out of sight. “Lucy’s doing great, though. No morning sickness yet at all.”

  Maybe that was why Bentley wasn’t talking. She didn’t want to take attention away from one grandchild, while the other maybe wasn’t even here any longer.

  “So why won’t you tell us who this baby’s daddy is?” Caroline asked, tipping her head curiously to the side.

  “What are you talking about?” Lucy Olivia paled even as she claimed, “I did tell you.”

  “All you said was that the guy was dead,” Skylar piped up from across the room.

  “Yeah,” sixteen-year-old Ayden chorused. “And you didn’t even give us a name. Makes it sounds like the whole he-died thing is kind of made up.”

  “Ayd.” Her older sister, Rory, nudged her in the arm in reprimand for that comment, but her other sister, Riley, agreed, “Well, she didn’t give a lot of details about him. If I’d had sex with someone, and he up and died—what was it—seven weeks later, I’d probably—”

  “Oh my God!” Lucy Olivia exploded, gripping her head. “I’m not lying about this. The man is dead. Do you want me to show you his obituary?”

  “Yes!” a room full of women—young and old—immediately chorused.

  “Oh Jesus,” Lucy mumbled on an eye-roll. “Fine. Hold on.” Shaking her head and muttering to herself, she yanked her phone from her pocket and started to search. “You are all pains in the ass, I swear.”

  “But you love us, anyway,” Chloe returned on a grin, batting her lashes and nudging her way closer in order to see the phone’s screen over Lucy’s shoulder.

  Lucy Olivia elbowed her back, even as she giggled and warned, “Woman, stop breathing down my neck.”

  “Love, love, love us,” Chloe chortled, kissing the side of Lucy’s cheek, which made Lucy Olivia laugh even more and tuck her face against her shoulder until she found what she was searching for. “Ha!” She held up the phone triumphantly, displaying it for us all to see. “Here it is. So suck on that, bitches.”

  I snagged the phone before anyone else could get their hands on it. “Greggory Duke Merrill,” I read his name aloud, before sending her an arched-eyebrow glance. “Greggory, hmm?”

  She flushed and rolled her eyes. “He went by Duke,” she mumbled before dropping her gaze sadly. “I worked with him.”

  I nodded and went back to reading. “Age twenty-two. Geez!” My eyes flared wide. Dead at twenty-two. That seemed so young.

  “You caught a younger man, Luce?” Skylar cheered, however. “Wow, way to go! My hero.”

  Lucy Olivia cringed. “I wasn’t that much older than him,” she argued. “Just by a few years.”

  “…Lost his fight with cancer,” I went on reading aloud, making all the smiles and laughs drop as they realized this man we were discussing was no longer alive, and this was still his obituary we were going through. “…In Ingall Memorial Hospital. He went to Roosevelt grade school, North Central High, and took a job with Beriss International last spring. Preceding him in death were his parents, Jim and Melissa Merrill. And he is survived by his brother, Vaughn Merrill.”

  Hmm, not a big family. I winced some more, as I read off the funeral arrangements, which let us know the guy had died barely four weeks ago, which had been a mere week before Lucy realized she was even pregnant.

  “So you didn’t even know you were carrying his kid when he died,” I surmised.

  Lucy Olivia shook her head sadly. “Nope. I went to his funeral and everything. Had no idea the entire time.”

  “God, Lucy.” Aunt Sarah rolled her chair closer to take her niece’s hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Me too, sweetie.” Aunt Eva patted her back. “How’ve you been holding up?”

  Lucy cringed. “I’m not—I mean, it wasn’t…” She held up her hands. “Okay, fine. If you all really must know the whole story, this is how it went down. God.” She pressed a hand to her face and mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m going to admit this out loud.”

  “Just tell us, baby girl,” Mom encouraged. “We’re here for you.”

  “Okay, alright.” Lucy Olivia blew out a breath and dropped her hands. “We all knew Duke had leukemia when he started working with us last spring. He was always taking off for doctor’s appointments and chemo and such. When he went on hospice and decided to quit, we threw him a goodbye party, right. It was the least we could do.” She shrugged.

  “The guy was a total womanizing flirt, though. He was sweet enough and harmless, but not at all my type. Except I think he was determined to sleep with the entire female population before he left this world.”

  She paused to roll her eyes in irritation. “And yes,” she mumbled on a groan. “He finally got to me at the going-away party. He just laid it on so thick, playing the cancer card and catching all my sympathies just right. Then he almost started crying on me, telling me that was probably the last time he’d ever get to have sex with anyone, and probably also the last time I’d ever even see him alive. Which it was. He insisted I give him a proper send-off and grant him one last wish because he’d never get to be with a woman again.”

  She threw her hands in the air and muttered, “Well, how the hell was I supposed to say no to that?”

  “Whoa,” I breathed in shock. “So you got knocked up from giving a dyi
ng man sympathy sex?”

  She shot me a dirty look. “It wasn’t my finest hour, okay? I was so worried about somehow hurting him, I didn’t even think about protection.”

  “Holy shit, Lucy,” Aunt Caroline breathed. Then she shook her head. “That’s quite a story. Was he any good?”

  “Mother!” Teagan cried in horror, then she elbowed her mom and grinned. “I was totally going to ask that.”

  When half the room gave them funny looks, Teagan said, “What? The guy was a month away from death. I’m impressed he was still able to get it up at all.”

  “Well, I’d say he was in fine working order,” Aunt Eva announced, rubbing a hand over Lucy’s stomach. “Since he got a bun in our girl’s oven, over here.”

  Lucy Olivia snorted acerbically. “Knowing Duke, he probably died with a hard-on. Except....” She hugged herself and winced. “What if being with me is what, you know, killed him?”

  “No,” Sarah reassured her. “Not possible. If someone was honestly that sick, they weren’t going to survive long anyway.”

  “She’s right.” Aunt Zoey patted Lucy’s arm sympathetically. “You were going to lose him, anyway, I’m afraid.”

  “But...” Lucy shook her head, unable to accept their explanations. “That’s the problem. I’m not upset about losing him. And that makes me feel like a terrible person because I’m not mourning him, and he’s probably dead because of me.”

  The entire room started to protest. “He isn’t dead because of—”

  But Lucy had more to say. “He wasn’t the love of my life and we weren’t even that close of friends. I probably would’ve ended up hating him if he’d been healthy, and lived, and we’d had this kid together. He was so irresponsible and careless, he would’ve made a horrible, always-absent father. But I feel like I should’ve been closer to him, anyway. I mean, I’m the one who’s supposed to carry on a portion of his legacy. And I’m not—I don’t know. It’s just so weird that he’s gone. Just like that. And it was even weirder doing it with a guy I knew was dying. That was…” She cringed and shook her head. “He was going downhill by that point. I had to do most of the work.”

  “Oh my God, so it was bad?” Teagan cried.

  Looking completely guilty, Lucy covered her face with both hands and admitted, “So bad. And I feel absolutely heartless for even admitting that and for not being torn up about his death, even though I probably helped speed it along.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” Haven pulled her into a big hug. “But you didn’t kill him. We swear.”

  Lucy started crying then. “And what am I supposed to tell this kid whenever it asks about its dad someday? All I know was that he never turned work assignments in on time, he thought fart jokes were hilarious, he always threw the bottom bun away whenever he ate a hamburger, and he liked to chase women, like indiscriminately sleep with anyone willing to have him. And that’s it. But who could tell a child that?”

  “My turn,” Aunt Remy said, taking Lucy away from Haven so she could pull her into a hug next. “Sweetie, you just tell this kid that Daddy died before you got to know him because that’s the truth.”

  While all the others set about the task of making Lucy feel better, I backed up to stand next to Bentley, who would’ve usually been right up there in the thick of things, trying to soothe her sister-in-law as much as everyone else was.

  Don’t make it obvious I’m fishing, I silently ordered myself, right before I murmured, “Bent?” And then blurted the whisper, “Did you have a miscarriage?”

  Her eyes went wide. She gaped at me in open-mouthed shock for a good five seconds before she snagged my arm in a death grip and hauled me down the hall to my bedroom.

  “How did you know that?” she hissed as soon as she shut the door and turned back to face me, her face pale and cheeks a bit sunken.

  “Oh, darling,” I cooed in sympathy, reaching out to smooth some of her hair out of her face. “It’s written all over you. You’re hanging back, not talking to anyone, going white as a sheet whenever the mere word baby is mentioned, and you look like you’re going to pass out any second. Here. Sit.”

  I led her to the bed, where she sat and immediately frowned at something in the tangle of sheets beside her.

  “Hey.” She picked up a jersey and turned toward me. “This is Fox’s.”

  I swallowed, momentarily freezing, before shaking my head. “Uh, no. I think that’s Gracen’s old shirt.”

  “Gray has a shirt like Fox’s? Huh. That’s weird.”

  “Boys,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes and a nervous flutter of my hand. “That’s probably why Gray got his.”

  Lord, I couldn’t believe I was lying to her so hard right now.

  Trying to move us past that topic so I didn’t have to come up with another untruth, I took the shirt from her hand and chucked it toward my bathroom before she went and sniffed it or something and smelled her brother instead of mine on the fabric. Then I took her hands and squeezed sympathetically. “Seriously, how are you doing?”

  “I’m—oh, you know.” She lifted a hand and tried to laugh but her eyes welled. “I’m just…” Her shoulders trembled, and she sniffed back more tears. “I’m—”

  “Miserable?” I finally supplied for her.

  She slumped and leaned heavily against me. “Yeah.”

  “I would be too.” Beginning to sway back and forth with her, I added, “But it’s okay to not be okay for a while. How are you, like, medically, though?”

  “My body is physically healing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “It was.”

  She nodded. “It happened last week, so I’ve had a bit of time to recover.”

  “How far along were you?”

  “Not much further than Lucy. A little over eight weeks.”

  Resting my cheek on her shoulder, I started to rub her arm. “Is that why you haven’t told anyone yet? Because of Lucy Olivia?”

  Bentley let out a long sigh before answering, “Yeah. I found out I was pregnant just a few days after she announced she was. But we knew right from the beginning that it was a tubal pregnancy, so…” She shrugged. “Beau’s parents were all about his sister and her baby, and they should be; she’s going to need help raising a kid alone. We just—Beau and I—decided not to—”

  “I get it,” I murmured sadly. “But still…” Sending her an arch glance, I had to add, “I wish I could’ve been there for you when it happened. You shouldn’t have had to go through it alone.”

  “I wasn’t alone.” She smiled softly. “Beau was with me.”

  When I sent her an incredulous glance, she laughed. “What? He was really awesome and supportive.”

  I lifted my brows and shook my head. “If you say so. I just remember when we were thirteen, and he showed his undying love for you by putting gum in your hair and bugs in your chair. And let’s not forget how he recruited your own brother to help ruin your dates with other boys when you were—”

  Cutting me off with another chuckle, Bentley merely shook her head. “Trust me, he’s improved in revealing his true emotions significantly since then.”

  “God, I would hope so,” I mumbled, still shaking my head.

  Bumping her shoulder against mine, Bentley kept laughing before she let out a long, satisfied sigh. “Thank you,” she finally said, sobering again. “I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to laugh again.”

  “Well, I’m always good for reminding you what kind of buffoon you married, if that’s all it takes.”

  She grinned only to sniff and wipe at her eyes. “It just hurts in my soul. You know? So much. Every time I look at Braiden, I can’t help but wonder what this one would’ve been like.”

  I’d never had a miscarriage; I wasn’t certain what she was going through. But I had had a few moments of looking at other people’s children and experiencing a sad, wistful what if.

  My baby-making time wasn’t over yet, but I had to be a good portion of the way through it. Sometimes I
felt a spot of anxiety as I wondered if I was ever going to get to have my own kid. Or if I was ever going to get married. Because I don’t think I’d mind having both. What if I never got over my hang-ups, though? I wouldn’t get to experience those things I’m pretty sure I wanted to experience.

  A person could get lost in the rabbit hole of what if.

  “It was a girl,” I announced, decisively. “And you guys would’ve named her…Briar.”

  Bentley made a face. “Briar?”

  I nodded. “Yep.” Because it went well with Fox. “And she’d have your red hair, of course, because your hair is kickass, but maybe her uncle Fox’s deep brown eyes.”

  Lifting her eyebrows with interest, Bentley made a sound in her throat. “Oh, so you like my brother’s deep brown eyes, do you?”

  You have no idea how much, I wanted to tell her.

  But I waved a dismissive hand, hoping to move us past that topic. “It’s just to toss some variety in there since you, and Beau, and Braiden all three have blue eyes.”

  I could totally picture her brother’s soulful eyes on some chubby-faced baby as it peered up at me and lifted its arms to be held, babbling mama the whole time.

  And great, now I was delving back into my own what-if hole again.

  “Okay,” Bentley agreed. “I’m beginning to see her. She’s pretty cute.”

  “She’s gorgeous,” I agreed. “A little wild. Super curious with more energy than any kid should have, but she’s so full of vivacity and she says the most entertaining things, she’s usually the life of the party.”

  “She’s perfect,” Bentley decided, squeezing my hand.

  “Yeah. She certainly is,” I murmured.

  “I’m going to miss her.” Bentley pressed her cheek to my shoulder, and I hugged her tight as we held hands and cried together.

  “I am too.”

  Bentley and I stayed in my room, talking and sobbing together for about twenty minutes, adding more details to her lost baby until we were satisfied with the vision we’d created.