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In the Crease

Page 88

   


Wren looked up suddenly and her brows touched. “What?”
Holding up her hands, Elaine reached over, taking Wren’s hand in hers. “Do you truly feel that way? That we ignore you?”
Blinking, unsure of herself, she shrugged. “I mean, yeah, sometimes. It’s real Wells-heavy around here. Sprinkle in some Jensen and Vaughn, and yeah, no room for me.”
Elaine looked stricken. “I don’t mean for it to be. He’s just so needy. I always knew he was gay. I also knew that your father wouldn’t take it well, so I think I baby him because of it.” She held her hands up. “Which isn’t right at all, I know this, but you’ve always been so independent. Always reading, always watching those murder shows and crazy-people movies. You always kept to yourself.”
Swallowing hard past the lump in her throat, Wren held her mother’s gaze. “Because no one had time for me.”
“Wren, no. That’s not true. We just thought you didn’t need us.”
“A girl always needs her mom and dad. But I guess Wells needed you two more. Oh, and then there was Jensen.”
Tears flooded Elaine’s eyes as she squeezed Wren’s hand. “I never meant for you to feel that way. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because there was no point, and if I tried, you guys said I was being dramatic and ignored me.”
Letting Wren’s hand go, Elaine shook her head as her tears fell. “Because it was so out of left field. You’d just start screaming and yelling for no damn reason, or so I thought.”
“I just wanted to be heard,” Wren whispered, her own eyes clouding with tears. Watching her mother wipe her eyes, Wren ached as her tears started to fall while the silence stretched between them. “I’m not mad at you, or even Daddy. I just hate being here because of it. Because I’m so pathetic that I want to be noticed, that I want you guys to care about me. I feel like you both just brush me to the side because, yes, I am independent and, yes, I can take care of myself. But sometimes, it’s nice just to know that you guys want to be there for me. That you worry for me. Because I don’t know that. I mean, Mom, I am seven months pregnant, and you never had a clue.”
“Because you hid it! You never said anything.”
“You should have been able to tell something was up.”
“I did, and I asked. You ignored me!”
“You didn’t try hard enough. Listen, I know you both love me, I do, I know that. But you have to because I’m your kid.”
“No, Wren, we love you because of the person you are. Because you are independent and strong and beautiful. Lord, you’re so damn smart, my love. I never meant for you to feel like that. I don’t call to check up because you wouldn’t tell me if I asked anyway. You’re very private, and I respect that. Maybe, as your mother, I should push, but I’m always worried you’ll shut me out.”
“I’d try. Ask Jensen, I’m really good at it. It’s a character flaw I’m working on. But, Mom, when you call me, it’s usually about Wells or even what needs to be done for Wells. You don’t call to see how I’m doing unless you get a call from Jensen saying he’s gonna marry me.”
Elaine laughed, her eyes full of remorse and tears. “That was one hell of a call.” Shaking her head, she wiped her tears, her makeup smearing as she let out a long breath. “I hate that this has happened. That a wedge has been put between us. Your father is stricken and wants to fix it, but you know how he is. He just grumbles and bitches about money. He doesn’t do feelings well.”
Wren smiled. “I probably get it from him, then.”
She laughed. “Oh, my love, you are your daddy made over—with my beauty, of course,” she teased since Wren looked nothing like her mother and everything like her father. “But still, honey, I’m extremely sorry. Truly. I am.”
Meeting her mother’s gaze, Wren wiped her own tears away. “I know, Mom. You don’t do it to hurt me. I just don’t think you notice.”
“I didn’t. And that’s my fault. But I know now, okay?”
“Okay,” Wren said slowly, hoping like hell that her mother meant her words.
“I love you. A lot.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
“Good,” she said, kissing Wren’s palm before reaching for a sheet of paper. “Now, names. Because my grandson will have a damn good one if I have anything to do with it.”
Popping an apple slice in her mouth, Wren smiled as she chewed, and her mother spat off names left and right, marking them off and then bolding others. Wren knew darn well things with her parents weren’t fixed completely, but they were heading that way, and at least that had her smiling. She loved her parents, she loved her brother, she did. But most of all, she loved Jensen.
A lot. And he deserved to know that since he went above and beyond to tell her how he felt.
Problem was, she wasn’t sure how to say those three words that taunted her.
She also had the issue of Bradley.
Yeah, life wasn’t easy, and that was probably her fault.
Which wasn’t anything new.
Wren: You didn’t tell me my mom was home.
Jensen: I didn’t know she was staying until I was walking out the door. At that point, I figured, surprise!
Wren: Well, actually, it has been.
Jensen: Yeah?
Wren: Yes, while I’m sure you’re having TONS of fun, Mom and I talked, and now we’re picking out baby names.
Jensen’s face broke into a grin as he stared down at his phone. The party for the Cup was going great. Like Jensen had done, Vaughn was doing a town tournament. But since the town was so much bigger than Jensen’s back home, they actually had teams of five instead of just throwing all the kids out there. Way bigger and loads of fun. The Vaughn Johansson Rink was done up with so much purple and black, there was no denying Vaughn was an Assassin. The Cup sat in a glass box in the middle of the score box, while little kids pressed their faces against the glass to get a look. People were everywhere, trying to see their children and then catch a glimpse of Jensen and Vaughn. It was one hell of a shindig.
He stood against the boards with Vaughn and Wells, and they watched as the final two battled it out for a chance at a picture with the Cup and also to hold it.
Jensen: Picking out names without me, rude.