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While We Waited

Page 17

   


“I’m just glad no one got a picture of Josh standing at the altar,” Lark says.
“He doesn’t want anyone to know?” I ask.
They all shake their heads. “That was all for Star. Kind of a private thing,” Wren explains.
“Will she be angry about this?”
“Probably not,” Lark replies. “I know I’m not going to tell her.”
“Why not?” I ask.
The girls all look at one another and grin.
“Because they’re busy knocking boots,” Finny blurts out. “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.”
Heat creeps up my face. “Oh.”
Suddenly, Benji cries from the other room. “Can I get him?” Wren asks.
I look down into my half-full cup of coffee. “I can do it.” I heave a sigh and start to get up. But Wren is already going toward my room. She goes inside and I hear her cooing at Benji. It makes me smile.
But he’s not going to be happy until his tummy is full. I am completely sure of that. I get a bottle from the fridge and stick it in the microwave. I’m still shaking it when Wren comes back into the kitchen carrying him. She takes the bottle from me and goes to sit on the couch, with my son in her arms. He lets her feed him, and looks up at her, his eyes big and wide.
“That’s a nice look on you,” Finny calls to her.
Wren flips Finny off from over her shoulder.
I laugh.
“Just because you don’t like kids doesn’t mean they’re all bad,” Wren says. “This one is kind of cute.” She grins down into my son’s face.
“It looks better from over here,” she sings out.
“He’s not an it,” I say.
She snorts. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
“I hope he didn’t keep you up last night,” I tell her. He only cried for a minute or two each time, but it was still noise when they were trying to sleep.
I came home last night with Lark, and Fin was still dancing with some guy at the party when we left. It shouldn’t bother me, and I can’t figure out why it does. She’s not mine. She never was.
She looks at me and her brow furrows. She doesn’t say anything.
The doorbell rings and Lark rolls her eyes. “Ten bucks says that’s I-want-to-get-in-her-pants-again flowers.”
“Huh?” I get up and go to the door. Fin goes to her room, closing her bedroom door.
I open the front door, and find a man standing there holding flowers. He looks around the edge of the bouquet and frowns at me.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I was looking for Finch…” He waits, letting his voice hang there in the air.
“Why do you want her?”
“I brought flowers.”
I glower at him and he shrinks back a little. “Why?”
“She’s not here right now,” Lark calls from behind me.
“Can I leave the flowers?” the man asks.
“Sure,” Lark replies. She comes and takes them from him. Then she slams the door in his face.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Fin opens her bedroom door and pops her head out. “Is he gone?”
“Yep. You can come out.”
“We seriously need to talk to the doorman. They let just about anyone in the building.” She glares at me.
They didn’t actually let me in that first night. I snuck past them.
She comes back into the kitchen and pours herself another cup of coffee. Then she plucks the card from the clip on the flowers, reads it, rolls her eyes, and tosses it into the trash. “I’ll drop them off at the assisted living center. They’ll like them.” She shrugs and goes to her room. She closes the door.
“She gets lots of flowers,” Wren explains. “That particular guy has been bringing flowers every two weeks for the past four months. She takes them to the assisted living center and gives them to the residents who don’t have visitors.”
So she didn’t sleep with this guy recently? The clutch that’s squeezing my heart eases a little.
“That’s nice, that she takes flowers to the assisted living facility.”
Wren snorts. “No one makes the mistake of calling Finny nice to her face.”
Lark makes an exaggerated gang sign and says, “She’s got a rep to protect.”
I laugh. Fin’s tiny. Like a little Latina fireball. But I don’t see her as particularly fearsome.
“You laugh, but she’s tough.”
The doorbell rings again and I look around. “Should I get it?”
They all roll their eyes but I go to the door anyway. I open it to find a flower deliveryman standing there with a huge vase of roses. There are at least three dozen. How many men did she bring home with her in the past two months?
I take the flowers and put them beside the others.
Fin comes out of her room. She’s wearing jeans and a hoodie, and she has her hair pulled back into a haphazard bun.
“Well, shit,” she says when she sees the second vase of flowers. “I can’t carry that many flowers by myself.”
Wren stands up. “Tag can go with you to help.” She looks down at my son. “He’s asleep.”
“Never mind,” Fin says. “I’ll just make two trips.”
“I don’t mind,” I say quickly.
She looks up at me, her brow quirked. “You sure?”
I want to talk to her anyway. “Yes, I’m sure. Let me get my shoes.” I go to my room and slide my feet into my sneakers. Then I dash into the bathroom to brush my teeth. “Are you sure you don’t mind watching him?” I ask Wren as I come back out. She barely knows me, after all.