Formal Arrangement

by Gilmore, Kylie

  Charlotte’s brown eyes were wide. “What did you say?”

  “I said no.” Lauren took a deep quavering breath. “He doesn’t love me.”

  “Moron,” Mad muttered. Then at Lauren’s surprised look, added, “Not you. Him. You want me to knock some sense into him?”

  “No!” Lauren exclaimed. Several heads turned in their direction. “I’m telling you this in confidence. Please don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “I can tell Park, though, right?” Mad asked. “That’s the significant-other rule. You can tell them stuff and it doesn’t count as secret spilling.”

  “No!” Lauren snapped.

  Charlotte looked away.

  Lauren sighed. They’d both probably spill to their guys, which was bad, bad, bad. Obviously it would get back to Alex. “This group is too connected.”

  “Sorry,” Mad said. “It’s not my fault you all keep falling for my brothers. No one said they were good at relationships or romance or whatever.” Mad turned to Charlotte. “Why’d you fall for Ty anyway? You used to hate him.”

  Charlotte rubbed a hand over her tiny baby bump. “I never hated him. He just pissed me off once. But now he’s sweet and tender. How could I not fall for him?”

  At that moment, Ty boomed, “Next time, young pup!” before putting his palm on Logan’s face and giving him a shove.

  Logan slapped his hand away.

  Ty grinned and wiggled his fingers, egging him on. “You wanna go a round with me?”

  Logan stalked off to talk to Josh.

  “Are you going to keep working for Alex?” Mad asked Lauren. “I can imagine things got awkward after you turned down his proposal.”

  “Yes, of course. I said I would.” No matter how difficult it was on a personal level, she knew he needed her. And she loved spending the day with Viv. She almost hadn’t come today, figuring a long weekend away from Alex would help, but she couldn’t turn down Joe’s warm invitation. They’d become friends.

  “You’re too damn accommodating,” Mad said. “Make it hard on him. Make him work for it.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Not at the expense of a child. Lauren’s doing the right thing.” She put an arm around Lauren’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re a sweetheart.”

  “That’s me,” Lauren said with a sigh.

  “So let me get this straight,” Mad said. “You’ve been working for him for what, three, four weeks—”

  “Three and a half,” Lauren said.

  Mad gave her a strange look. “Three and a half, okay. And then, out of the blue, he proposes marriage.”

  Charlotte lowered her voice. “Duh, Mad.”

  “What?” Mad asked.

  Charlotte gestured to Lauren. “Obviously she’s sleeping with him. Men don’t propose for no reason.”

  Mad stared at her expectantly. Lauren blushed furiously.

  “Huh.” Mad cocked her head, studying Lauren. “Interesting.”

  Charlotte elbowed Mad. “Stop embarrassing her.”

  Lauren’s gaze drifted back to Alex and Viv. She longed to join them, to be part of their little family, but finally had to acknowledge that in refusing Alex, she’d closed that door. Her eyes stung and she quickly tuned back in to her friends.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alex didn’t take his dad up on his offer to babysit over the long Fourth of July weekend. Instead he spent the next three days with Viv and his nights alone. Not exactly alone—with Tammy. He knew he had to stop looking at her art every day. He needed to let her go. And the only way he could think of was to give her to Viv. Tammy gave him Viv. He would give Viv Tammy. He’d create his gift now and give it to Viv when she was old enough to understand.

  The first night, after Viv fell asleep, he gathered all the pictures he had stored on his computer of Tammy from the beginning of their relationship to nine months pregnant. Thirteen months of memories. He supposed in the long view it wasn’t much, but his life had changed so profoundly because of her it felt like more. He uploaded them to a photo website, where he ordered a hardcover photo book for Viv, the images printed in high resolution on the pages. Tammy looked so young. She’d only been twenty-five when she died. He’d been twenty-eight.

  With that accomplished, he copied the original pictures to a flash drive, set it on the desk, and then clicked over to delete the pictures from his computer. His adrenaline kicked in, full-out sweat and shaking fingers. No. Not yet. He left the pictures on his computer and went to bed.

  The next night he did some deep breathing and gave himself a pep talk. He wasn’t erasing Tammy, he was merely creating something new. Something tangible that Viv could hang onto forever. He opened the art folder he looked at daily, though it never made him feel better. Just the opposite. He uploaded all of her artwork to the photo website and considered what to make from them. There was too much here for another photo book. He quickly decided to only focus on the art she’d created once they knew she was pregnant. Twenty-six pieces in all, not a lot because she’d been tired from the pregnancy and not able to stay up late often to create. He rubbed his aching chest—another thing taken from Tammy. He told himself it was normal for her to be fatigued from pregnancy and not his fault, but it was hard to push away the old guilt.

  He found himself going through the nine months of art again and again. He arranged them all in order on the large computer screen and stared, trying to understand one last time. His gaze shifted as it always did to the last piece she’d created—the black rose. The pressure on his chest returned, heavy like a hand pressing down. He couldn’t get a full breath. This piece haunted him. If he could just figure out why she’d created it, what it really meant, he could let it go.

  He Googled “black rose,” as he’d done before. It meant death and mourning, which he knew. Since he’d promised himself he would stop looking at it every day, he kept going, clicking through every search result, desperate for a different meaning. Several minutes later, he found something. Some people said the black rose was the symbol of antiauthoritarianism, others said it represented a journey into unexplored territory. Both of those fit Tammy. She was antiauthority, defiant to the bone. She was also about to explore new territory as a mom. Could that be it?

  He suddenly felt immensely tired. He’d never know the answers to his questions, so how could he let it go? He stood and dragged himself to bed.

  The third night was Sunday night, so no more fucking around, he had to get back to his own work and stop torturing himself with Tammy’s stuff. He decided to make a photo book of her pregnancy photos with the art she’d created during each month. He hoped it would be something Viv would treasure, seeing herself grow along with her mother’s work. Some part of him hoped it would bring clarity. He was a visual person and needed to fit the pieces together. He worked slowly deep into the night, arranging the art on the page in a way that made it flow one piece to the next, one stage to the next. He finally finished and stared at the last two-page spread: Tammy nine months pregnant on one side, the black rose on the other. The contrast was so striking—life and death. He left the black rose on a page by itself and shifted the nine months pregnant picture for last. He stared at her huge belly and the picture got blurry, his eyes watering, knowing it was Viv in there. Tammy looked radiant, full-on smiling at the camera. At him. It was St. Patrick’s Day and he’d just given her a plate of four cupcakes with green sugar clovers on vanilla icing from her favorite bakery. She had a bit of Irish in her and had bemoaned the fact she couldn’t do her usual bar crawl. He’d tried to make it fun for her with the cupcakes.

  He wiped his eyes and quickly typed “St. Patrick’s Day” and “black rose” into the Google search box. He sucked in a breath and clicked on an article from Rolling Stone about how Thin Lizzy’s “Black Rose” was the perfect St. Patrick’s Day song.

  He dropped his head in his hands and broke down in tears. Jesus. All this time he’d thought terrible things—she expected death, she was saying goodbye, she hated the baby. It was j
ust a song. A fucking song. She’d probably been listening to it while she created this last piece. She hadn’t been looking toward death. It had caught her by surprise just as it had caught him.

  A long while later he wiped his tears and sat there, spent. She hadn’t hated the baby and, by extension, him. She’d gone through a lot to have Viv. Morning sickness, swollen fingers and ankles, heartburn, sleepless nights, aching back, he heard it all. And then the labor. She’d wanted a natural birth, as she’d said in her snarky way, “So I’ll remember not to do it again.” But maybe she wanted to truly experience all of it because she was embracing the journey.

  For the first time, he felt some peace. The article had a link to the song. He hit play—ripping guitars morphed to Celtic melodies and soft keyboard and back to rock. The lyrics and tune both hard and, at times, tender. This was Tammy—hard shell covering the tender underbelly. He finally got her. He didn’t need to keep looking at her art every day for answers. He knew deep down everything he needed to know. Tammy loved him. Tammy loved Viv.

  Tammy’s journey ended, but it lived on in a way through Viv. He added a title to the photo book: Viv and Mom’s Journey.

  More tears leaked out and then it seemed he was done. His eyes were gritty, his limbs loose, the pressure on his chest gone. He ordered the photo book, transferred all of her art to the flash drive, checked that everything was on there—pictures of her, all of her art—and finally deleted all the Tammy stuff from his computer. He let out a long breath, stood, gripped the flash drive in his hand, and sent a silent prayer of thanks to Tammy for Viv, added a quick sorry that she hadn’t lived to see her, and finally finished with goodbye.

  “Goodbye,” he said again, out loud this time because he hadn’t at the funeral. He’d been in shock.

  He turned and crossed to his room, where he stashed the flash drive in the fireproof box on the top shelf of his closet along with Viv’s birth certificate and other important papers.

  It was nearly dawn. No use trying to sleep. Viv would be up soon. He went to her room and sat on the side of her bed, gazing down at her. She slept on her back, arms flung wide. He gazed at the bow in her top lip, at the cleft in her chin, which he knew were from Tammy, then to her light brown hair and her ears, which he knew were from him. His eyes welled again, but this time they were happy tears because his little girl was the most precious gift he’d ever been given.

  The sun rose while he sat there, the new day bringing new hope. He heard his name a short while later.

  “Daddy?”

  He brushed her hair back. His little sunshine. “Right here.”

  She sat up and hugged him. He lifted her and kissed her chubby cheek. “Love you, Viv.”

  “Love you, Daddy.”

  He stood with Viv in his arms. “Let’s get ready for our day.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Lauren showed up for work at Alex’s house on Monday morning not at all sure the reception she was going to get. He hadn’t gotten in touch over the long holiday weekend, not even a text, and had been distant when she’d said goodbye at his family’s Fourth of July barbeque. She rang the bell, and the moment the door opened, her heart squeezed. He looked rumpled like he’d been up all night, his jaw had at least a few days’ growth, his eyes were bleary and a little puffy. Had he been crying? Or did he have another rough night with Viv?

  “Alex, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Tired, but okay.”

  She hugged him. “Is Viv okay?”

  His arms wrapped tight around her. “She’s good.”

  “Thuper! Watch me!”

  Alex pulled away and turned. They both watched Viv on the floor with Dolly on her back, attempting to do push-ups like her dad. She couldn’t quite manage one without Dolly sliding off her back. Then she’d grab her doll, put her back in place, and try again.

  “Look at you, superstrong girl,” Alex said. He crossed to her and held Dolly on her back for her. “I got Dolly. Let’s hear you count off.”

  Viv did her toddler form of a push-up, her butt going high in the air. “One, two, three!” she counted for the first one. “Five, seven, eight!” She counted for the second. “Nine, ten!” She did a third one and collapsed to the floor.

  “Wow!” Lauren exclaimed. “You’re going to be fit just like your daddy.”

  Viv stood and beamed.

  “Let’s see some sit-ups,” Alex said, getting out the mat for her.

  “Princess Kei-Kei!” Viv hollered.

  Alex smiled and started the music. Soon Viv was busy doing the whole routine with Dolly that Alex usually did with her.

  He took Lauren’s hand and guided her farther away where they could still see Viv, but the music wasn’t as loud.

  “You look exhausted,” Lauren said. “You want to nap while I watch her?”

  “I will but not yet. I was up all night. I made a photo book of Tammy’s artwork with pictures of her for Viv.”

  “That’s really nice. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that when she gets older.” She squeezed his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. “That must’ve been difficult for you.”

  He nodded. “It was. But good too. I found some peace with it.”

  “I’m glad.”

  They were both quiet for a moment, watching Viv lift Dolly over her head like a barbell. She glanced at Alex to find him smiling. “Guess she was paying attention,” he said.

  “Sure, she experienced it.”

  He turned to her. “I used to look at Tammy’s art every day on my computer. Every damn day searching for answers. Last night I deleted all of it. I said goodbye.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “You deleted it? That seems—”

  “No, it’s okay. I made it into a photo book and saved it in a different place. I’m just trying to say I’m moving on. And I hope that means I can move forward with you.” He gazed into her eyes. His dark eyes were so tired, so bleary, but also at peace. In fact, his whole demeanor had changed from on edge to completely relaxed.

  She swallowed over the lump in her throat and hugged him again. Not because she felt sympathy for him. Because she needed to feel his strong arms around her. She’d missed him since their fallout last week. “I’d like that too,” she whispered.

  His hand cupped the back of her head and she felt him let out a long breath. “Good.”

  She knocked into him as Viv joined their hug, launching herself at Lauren’s legs. “Group hug,” she said with a laugh.

  “What happened to dance party?” Alex asked, looking down at Viv.

  “Hug, hug!” Viv hollered.

  Lauren bent down and scooped her up, handing her to Alex. Viv turned and wrapped an arm around Lauren’s neck too. She smiled, kissed Viv on the cheek and turned to Alex, who was smiling through tears. And then tears were leaking out of her eyes too because she knew he was all there—body, heart, and soul.

  The happy elves song blared on, Viv wiggled to get down, and they let her go back to her dance party.

  And then they were kissing and crying happy tears and nothing had ever felt so right.

  Chapter Nineteen

  And so began what Lauren liked to think of as Alex’s formal courtship. Every afternoon when she returned to his house after her outing with Viv, Alex gave her a single red rose. She put it in a large glass and left it by his kitchen window so she could admire it. She spent most of her time at his house anyway. By Friday afternoon, she had four roses in full bloom, opening their petals to the sun.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?” Alex asked.

  She smiled to herself and turned from the roses to gaze into his eyes, feeling his sincerity down to her toes. She soaked in the moment. They’d been out together before and even went to Hailey’s surprise birthday party together last night, but this felt different, like their first real date since Alex opened his heart again. “Yes,” she said and beamed at him.

  He smiled back, the joy lighting up his handsome face.

>   “Yes!” Viv mimicked, grabbing Alex’s leg.

  Alex looked down at Viv, cupping her head with one hand. “You’re going to visit Grandpop tomorrow and have pizza. Me and Lauren are going to a restaurant that’s just for grown-ups.”

  Viv accepted this in typical style, jumping up and down and hollering, “Pizza!”

  The next night Alex showed up at her doorstep with another rose.

  She pulled him inside her apartment with her, the rose still clutched in her hand. “Alex?”

  “Yeah?”

  She smiled and said in a teasing voice, “I’m starting to feel like you made a reward chart for me, but instead of a gold star, I get a rose each day I’m with you.”

  He gazed back at her, his dark eyes warm and tender. “It’s not a reward chart.” His voice was gruff with emotion. “I’m trying to make love bloom.”

  “Are you teasing?” she whispered.

  He shook his head, completely sincere. “I love you, Lauren.”

  “I love you too!”

  She dropped the flower, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately.

  Next thing she knew he had her pinned against the wall, his mouth sealed to hers, his hard planes against her softness. Which was exactly where she wanted to be.

  ~ ~ ~

  Tonight was the night. Their two-month anniversary and Alex was going to propose. Lauren counted it as two months (since their first kiss) and he agreed because, though there’d been some separations, Lauren had loved him through it all. He still couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky to find the person for both him and Viv. And, damn, he’d almost lost Lauren in the process of opening his heart again. His own fear of dealing with the pain had held him back, but he did it, and, ultimately, he came out the other side feeling good. Actually, better than good. He felt fully alive and so full of love he thought his heart would burst with it. Like ridiculous levels—dancing under the stars, singing to the rooftops about his love for Lauren.