One to Tell the Grandkids (25 page)

Taryn tilted her head, considering. “I wonder if that’s one of the reasons I’ve been putting off settling things with Slate.” She sighed. “He was so sweet to me after Caleb left. Why couldn’t it have been him I felt this way for? I wasn’t looking to fall in love, but if it had to happen, why not my baby’s father? He’s sweet and smart. He loves Rory. He’s been good to me.”

“There are a lot of guys who are sweet and smart,” Mel said. “Love isn’t supposed to make sense.”

“That’s kind of one of the things,” Rob said. “If it makes too much sense, that’s your first indication something is wrong.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just play the game.”

Taryn crossed her arms and leaned into his embrace. “I didn’t want to play the game. I didn’t even want to be in the stadium. Hell, I didn’t want to be stuck in the traffic around the stadium.”

“Whoa. It’s a good thing we already cut you off. Too much wine has you making bad sports references.” Rob kissed her forehead. “You’re going to be fine. Mel and I told you from the beginning, we’re here for you. That much you can count on.”

In a moment of weakness the week before escrow closed on his house, Caleb returned one of his father’s many phone calls. He tried to convince himself of his own benevolence, that he was calling for John’s sake, but in truth, he was lonely. It was the kind of loneliness that ached like a broken bone. It was a marrow-deep hurt that hobbled him.

A phone call led to dinner, where Caleb told his father he planned to hire movers.

“The hell you will,” John said. “That’s not necessary when you have family.”

“What are you talking about? You have a bad back. You can’t help lift anything.”

“No. That’s the whole point of having younger siblings.”

It took Caleb a few heartbeats to figure out whom John was talking about. “I hardly know your stepkids.”

“Maybe it’s about time you changed that. They’re good people. They’ve wanted to get to know you better for a long time. I think they’d love you, and you’d love them if you gave them a chance.” He leaned forward with his arms on the table. “Can I say something honest? An observation made without judgment?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow and waited in wary expectation.

“You like playing the martyr. Not that you enjoy it, but you seem to think it’s the only way you can get a point across. It’s not a sacrifice of your principles to stop denying yourself what you need.”

“You think I need you?”

“Hell yes I think you need me. You need your family. Don’t say it.” He held his hands up.

“Say what?”

“You were going to say your sister needed me, and you’re right. I wasn’t a good father to your sister in the end. I wasn’t what she needed me to be. It’s not something I’m proud of.” John looked at him. “But I’ve done my best to do right by you. I’m not trying to give you excuses, but one of the things I struggled with was how little I could do for Ann.”

He gave Caleb a small, if sardonic, smile. “You are a whole different kind of frustration. You’re right here in front of me, and you won’t let me help. You don’t have to be alone. You have a family. Me, Mary, the kids. We’re all here for you.”

“All right. Fine. You’re here for me,” Caleb said dismissively. He looked down at his menu, but his father wasn’t done.

“You know, I’m pretty far from perfect, but I’m not a horrible person, and I’m the only father you’re going to get. Anyway, whatever you think of me, Mary and the kids are great. Mary is on your side, even. You have no idea how many arguments we had over your sister.”

That cut through Caleb’s defenses. “Really?”

“I realize in this case vindication doesn’t carry any satisfaction, but it’s nice to have someone agree with you, anyway. Right?”

Caleb rubbed his temples. There was a lot he could have said. John was attempting to inject a bit of humor into a situation that wasn’t at all funny. But Caleb was tired. He was tired of the same argument. There was a loud voice in his head reminding him of all the days he spent with Ann, telling himself when his sister was finally at rest, he would walk away from his father and never look back. Sitting in front of him, Caleb could acknowledge he didn’t want to walk away. He was still angry. No amount of apologies from his father could sate that anger, could make that right, but neither would putting him in his place.

When Caleb didn’t speak, John went on. “Let us help you move, son.”

Caleb’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a small chuckle. “You’re begging me to let you help me move. You know how wrong that is?”

John grinned. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth no matter how pissed you are at him.”

“How can I argue with that?”

Two weeks after their pseudo-breakup, Caleb was having a terrible time getting over Taryn. He’d been looking forward to moving day for one reason only: it would be a respite from the constant self-recrimination. His heart hurt, and he had no one to blame for it but himself. He knew that. So he was looking forward to the white noise of heavy lifting.

It was the first time Caleb had interacted with his stepfamily without already being irritated. His appreciation allowed him to see them in a new light. John was right; Caleb’s stepsiblings were engaging and nice. They didn’t seem to mind being asked to help. His stepmother, Mary, was great. She did, however, have the knack all mothers seemed to have perfected to hone in on exactly the thing Caleb didn’t want to talk about.

“So how’s that girlfriend of yours doing? She must be huge by now.”

Mary’s casual words had all the effect of a stone slab being piled on his chest. Caleb swallowed down the lump that rose to his throat. “She’s not my girlfriend, but yes, she’s getting pretty big.”

“The last trimester is the worst, poor thing.” Mary settled a box on the growing pile in the living room and headed back out to the truck with him. “She’s really not your girlfriend?”

Another slab. “No.”

“Ever thought about it?”

Only constantly for a while now.
“She’s pregnant with my best friend’s baby.”

Mary hummed. “And yet that isn’t a no.”

Caleb opened his mouth, but the lie wouldn’t come. He sighed and shut it again, moving to pick up the next box.

“It’s just that you made such a good team that day. The fun stuff is the easy part. Partnership is harder.” She huffed as she put her box down. “She’s nothing like that other woman was.”

At that Caleb had to laugh. It was a wry, tired sound. He wiped at his brow and looked down at the ground. “No, Taryn isn’t anything like Lisa. Then again, Lisa wasn’t anything like the woman you remember, not when I met her. I knew a different side of her. There were good things about her, too.”

“There are good things about everyone.”

“Yes. She was different when I first met her, or maybe I was just delusional. Needy.” Again he laughed and rubbed at his eyes. “This is not something you’re supposed to do twice in one lifetime. I met Lisa not long after my sister was diagnosed, and I got with Taryn when she died.”

“So there
is
something going on with you two.”

Caleb winced. He was half out of his head now that Mary had started him thinking about Taryn. Thinking about Taryn meant thinking about Lisa and history repeating itself and how could one man make the same stupid mistake twice? “There
was
,” he answered Mary.

He waited, but Mary didn’t speak right away. Instead, she headed back out to the truck for the last of the boxes. They worked in silence for a few minutes, but when the boxes were settled, Mary turned to him. “I know I’m not your mother, but I still want you to be happy. If you need to talk, I’m here.”

The gesture twisted Caleb’s heart in a much different way, a squeeze of affection rather than a wrench. He pulled the slight woman toward him and hugged her tightly. She gasped, but she soon relaxed into his embrace. Seeming to understand he needed the affection, she hugged him back with just as much fervor.

Caleb had been so long without a mother, he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he wondered what his mother would have said. A child expected to bury his parents but not so soon. Not before he had a chance to experience adulthood with the safety of a mother’s arms to return to when the road got rough.

He tried to remember the sound of her voice and imagined what she might have said about Lisa or Taryn only to realize she wouldn’t have had anything to say. He never would have been with Lisa if his mother hadn’t died and his family hadn’t fallen apart.

But then, he wouldn’t have Slate, his bar, or his life here in LA. And if he didn’t have them, he wouldn’t have met Taryn. Even from where he stood, aching at the loss, he wouldn’t have traded it. It was a curious sensation to want to hold on to something that hurt so badly and made so many aspects of his life much more tangled up than they needed to be.

Mary looked around, her hands on her hips. “Well, you have other, more pressing problems now. You officially have more stuff than you can fit in one small house.”

Caleb’s smile was more genuine then. “First world problems.”

“Yes.” She peered out the window. “Oh, good. The rest of the team is back with lunch and supplies.”

Caleb let himself be distracted. For the rest of the day, he let himself enjoy belonging to a family again.

Chapter Twenty-Five

A
nother Sunday afternoon, and despite Pauline and baby Bailey’s notable absences, the Sato’s house was full. Taryn had brought everyone: Slate, Rob, and Mel. With Mike and Dillon there, almost everyone who was most important to Taryn was gathered in the same place. It made her miss Caleb all the more, but it was easier to push thoughts of him away for minutes at a time when there were so many people.

Her mom sat beside Taryn on the couch and patted her knee. Faye looked past Taryn to Slate. “I’m glad you’re getting to know us.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking to see where Mike was before she leaned in, speaking in a low voice. “I was afraid my son scared you away. He means well, but he can be overbearing.”

“Oh, hey. No problem.” Slate shrugged, his expression easy. “I don’t have any siblings, but I think if I did, I’d be protective, too. But just so you know, I wasn’t trying to stay away. We thought we should get to know each other better first.” He ducked his head. “I guess that sounds really bad.”

“You shouldn’t worry about that.” Mel came up behind Taryn and rubbed her shoulders. “Taryn is bad at juggling. She forgot about all of us for a while there while she was playing with Slate and—”

Taryn sucked in a breath and looked down at her lap. Not for the first time, she wondered if the intensity of her emotions was tied more to her first broken heart or the fact all her moods came in extremes these days.

Mel squeezed Taryn’s shoulders in apology and cleared her throat. “Anyway. I think she’s coming back to us now.”

Taryn turned instinctually toward Slate, who looked back at her with an abashed expression. They looked away just as quickly, and Taryn hoped no one had caught the motion. She managed a wan smile. “I wasn’t trying to forget anyone.”

“It always happens like that when you have kids,” her mother said. “I think life only goes by fast and faster. There’s never enough time. Speaking of which.” She patted Taryn’s tummy. “You don’t have much childless time left.”

“Eight weeks sounds like forever and nothing at the same time.”

“How are you feeling?” her mother asked.

“Hungry.”

“We just ate.”

Slate got to his feet. “Baby ate. Now it’s Taryn’s turn. I’ll get you a plate.”

While Taryn waited for the food, her mother barraged her with the usual ten thousand health-related questions she asked whenever they talked. Taryn bore it in good humor. It used to annoy her that her mother seemed to know every conceivable way a young person could die, but she understood in a way she couldn’t before. Even though she hadn’t laid eyes on her daughter yet, Rory was so real to her. She caught herself worrying about the most ridiculous things, tiny eventualities that didn’t really merit a thought. Assuaging her mother’s fears was the least she could do.

Luckily, Slate came back before her mother started asking the more embarrassingly personal questions. Taryn made grabby hands for the food, but Slate danced out of reach. He waggled his eyebrows as he carefully balanced the paper plate laden with a hot dog and potato salad on top of Taryn’s belly. When he was sure it wouldn’t fall, he looked up at her with a triumphant grin. “Just as I thought. Built in TV tray. Now that’s ingenuity.”

Taryn snorted. “You’re very impressed with yourself.”

“I have mad skills. These are things you’ll want to make note of.” He patted her tummy. “You may have inherited any one of my stunning talents, baby.”

As if in response, the plate rocked with Rory’s strong kick. “Whoa,” Taryn said. She grabbed the plate before it toppled. “I think she’s vetoing invention in the name of soccer.” She winced. “Or boxing.”