chapter thirty
I’m not sure I’ll ever completely understand the human capacity to love two women so unconditionally. I’ve never questioned my feelings for Erin. I was undoubtedly in love with her. I think I just loved her differently than I love Skylar, that’s all.
I still feel guilty sometimes when I look at Skylar and want so badly to pull her into my arms and make love to her. I feel guilty when a stubborn green-eyed beauty infiltrates my dreams instead of the demure curly-haired blonde. I’m not certain the guilt will ever totally dissipate. I’ve just learned to accept it. Like I had to accept that Erin was going to die.
As I look around the restaurant, I know that Erin would be happy with what I have planned. She loved a good party and tonight I can only hope she’ll finally get her wish. As I watch Erin’s family help put the finishing touches on the tables, I can practically sense her here. White lilies sit amongst the pale-blue balloons that bob over every table as a centerpiece.
Everything has come together perfectly. As luck would have it, March 1st has fallen on Skylar’s day off. All her family and friends are in on it. To throw her off, Baylor took her out for lunch yesterday and gave her a small gift. I played ignorant, not even mentioning her birthday. I had to hold in my smirk when she pouted around the house last night thinking everyone forgot her twenty-fifth birthday.
Mindy called her ten minutes ago with a restaurant emergency, telling her she had to come right away to avert a delivery disaster. As we wait in the relative darkness, Mitchell’s having been closed early for the private party, I take one final walk around to make sure everything is ready.
A banquet table is piled high with gifts, some for the baby shower, some for Skylar’s birthday. Another table is set up buffet-style with mountains of finger foods. The centerpiece on the food table is a framed copy of the picture I’d taken of Skylar’s belly—the one where she was holding the white lily against her. My favorite picture. The picture to trump all others.
I look over at the temporary stage we’ve set up, both nervous and excited about what I’ve planned for the evening.
Skylar walks through the door, looking irritated. “Why are the lights off? And why the hell did someone put up the closed—”
“Surprise!” we say calmly and in unison, tactically agreed upon so we don’t scare her into early labor.
She looks around at all her friends and family, a smile quickly overtaking her frown. “You guys!” she shrieks. Her jaw drops when her eyes fall on the table piled with gifts. She hugs everyone as she walks around, taking in the balloons, the flowers, the food. When she sees the picture, she spins around, searching for me.
As she makes her way over to me, Baylor whispers something in her ear.
Skylar stops in front of me and pokes me in the chest. “You did this? Really?”
I shrug. “I had some help.”
“Thank you.” She pulls me in for a hug. I get a whiff of her hair. It smells fresh, like she had just washed it before coming. I could stand here and smell it all day. I don’t want to let her go. Before she pulls away, I run my hand down her arm, eliciting goosebumps and a shiver that I’m not sure she wants me to see.
She points to a huge balloon displaying her age. “I thought everyone forgot. I mean, we usually celebrate on the 28th since my birthday is technically in February. But I figured this year, with everything else going on . . .”
“No way,” I say, shaking my head. “No way would anyone forget your birthday, Sky. You’re unforgettable.”
She blushes. It’s fucking sexy. I have to look away and find something else to focus on so my blood will quit rushing south.
For the next hour we laugh, eat, and shower Skylar with gifts. It’s a bit overwhelming seeing all the baby stuff. How can one tiny baby require so much crap?
The women play some sort of baby shower game while the men congregate and drink beer. I take a shot of tequila, knowing what’s about to happen. Knowing I’m about to put it all on the line.
Five of us guys take leave and head back to the kitchen where we prepare for the baby shower surprise. I’m not even sure whose idea this was. Mason and I were out drinking one night and were tossing around party ideas when some drunk students did a hilarious karaoke version of Y.M.C.A. so we started joking about doing something like that at the party.
The music starts and I walk out on the stage with Gavin, Mason, Skylar’s dad, and Chris—the manager of the Maple Creek restaurant. The five of us are wearing long blonde wigs and we each have fake baby-bumps strapped under our clothing as we sing and dance to our own rendition of ‘Baby One More Time,’ by Britney Spears.
Laughter fills the restaurant and phones come out to take video that I’m sure will be posted on the Internet before the night is out. Every time we sing the line ‘hit me baby one more time,’ we turn and bump our fake bellies into each other like athletes celebrating on a football field.
When I catch a glimpse of Skylar, wiping tears and doubling-over in a fit of giggles, as far as her real belly allows, I know this is what I want every day for the rest of my life. To make Skylar laugh. To see her so happy she can barely contain herself.
When the song comes to an end, we step off the platform, removing our wigs and ‘bellies.’ People clap and laugh before going back to eating and making conversation. Some approach us, wanting to try on the baby bumps. I look around the room nervously. It’s one thing to get up on stage and make an ass out of myself with four other guys. It’s entirely another to fly solo, especially with so much riding on this.
I rub my sweaty palms down my jeans. I take a number of deep breaths and hope I don’t pass out from sheer anxiety. I’ve never done this before. I don’t even sing in the shower for fear of offending music’s very existence. I can barely carry the tune to ‘Happy Birthday,’ let alone sound remotely like Jason Mraz.
Yet, that’s exactly who I’ve picked to sing to her. A song with references to fate, and as luck would have it, the sky.
“You ready for this, G?” Mason says, coming up next to me, snapping me out of my stress-induced coma.
I nod tentatively.
I feel a pat on the back and turn to see Skylar’s dad. “You’ve got this, son.”
I climb the three steps to the stage and tap on the microphone to make sure it’s still on. Jenna, who’s working the karaoke machine, gives me the thumbs up and presses the button to start the music. I close my eyes and pray my legs don’t collapse out from under me as I sing the first few bars of ‘I’m Yours.’
The restaurant falls silent except for the music and the sound of my shaky, untrained voice. Even all the wait-staff stop in their tracks. All eyes are on me as I make an incredible fool out of myself in the name of love and grand-fucking-gestures.
But after the first verse, everyone else fades into the background and all I see is her. Skylar’s hand comes up to cover her mouth as I pour myself out to her through the lyrics of the song that tells her everything I couldn’t. When my voice cracks as I sing the line about this being our fate, tears roll down her cheeks. I’m not sure either of us blinks the entire length of the song.
My left hand remains in my pocket, nervously fumbling with the small box as I belt out the last few lines. The music stops and you could hear a pin drop in the crowded room. Everyone is waiting to see what I do next. What she does next.
I clear my throat, trying to remember all the words I need her to hear. “Skylar, a wise woman once told me I had to spell it out to get a girl’s attention. So this is me, spelling it out; hoping you’ll listen to what I have to say and give me a chance.” I run a hand through my hair. The hand that’s not glued to the box in my pocket. Skylar nods and I continue. “The night I came back and you asked me what I wanted—I never had the chance to answer.” I motion my free hand around the room. “I want this. All of it. Our friends, your family. Our baby. You. I want it all.”
The door to the restaurant opens and in walks John-the-food-guy, sending my already
racing pulse through the roof. What the hell is he doing here? Of all the times in all the days, he chooses to show up right-fucking-now. He eyes me up on the stage, then quickly goes to stand behind a group of people. But not before Skylar follows my gaze to see what’s caught my attention. I contemplate walking off the stage and postponing the whole thing. I didn’t think I’d have to do this in front of the guy she’s dating. Maybe I didn’t think this through. Maybe I should do this in private.
Her sympathetic eyes find their way back to mine. She raises a hand to grasp her locket and then she smiles. I swear it’s the same smile from that photo I took at the picnic. The one of her lying on the grass, staring at the sky with her hand on her belly. That smile—it gives me the courage to do what I came here to do. I try not to give another thought to anyone else in the room and I focus my attention solely only her.
“You said I don’t get it. And maybe I didn’t. But I do now. Did you listen to the song?” I point my finger back and forth between us. “You and me. This is fate. We belong together. We were always supposed to be the bean’s mom and dad. Erin knew it all along. It’s why she threw us together. It’s why she planted the seed. But it was up to us to do the rest.” I brace myself with the microphone stand and take a deep breath. “I love you, Skylar Mitchell. And not because someone else told me I should. I love you because when you walk into a room, I stop breathing. I actually have to remind my lungs to inhale and my heart to continue beating, because everything in my world stops when I see you. I love you because I wake up every day thinking I don’t want to be in this world if you aren’t in it. I love you because I wasn’t sure I would ever feel that way about anyone again. I love your beautiful green eyes and your undecided hair. I love the way you’ve taken care of our unborn child. I even love your stubborn, filthy mouth.”
I look down at the tattoos that adorn my forearms. “I’ve been loved by some pretty incredible women in my life. Women who made me what I am today. Women who prepared me to be a good father to our son. Women who showed me how to be a better man for you.”
I lock eyes with Skylar again. Her tears are overflowing, falling faster than she can wipe them away. My hand grips the box in my pocket, preparing to pull it out. “I want to be with you, Skylar. I have to be with you. I get it now.”
I step down from the stage and make my way over to her, cutting the distance between us with purposeful strides. People quietly part like the Red Sea, clearing a path for me to get to her. I stand before her, my hand still firmly in my pocket, gripping the box that will change my life. I close my eyes, gathering the courage to lower myself onto a knee, when I feel soft arms around my neck.
My eyes fly open just in time to see her wet her lips before they reach mine. Our mouths crash together, but we smile more than we kiss. I hear cheers around us as she pulls just barely away from me, stretching up to speak into my ear. “Thank you. That was . . . wow. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear you say those things. I’d be honored to be your girlfriend, Griffin.” She tilts her head and smiles up at me. “We’ll take it slow, okay? One day at a time?”
Girlfriend.
I hope the shock I’m feeling is not registering on my face. My hand releases the death-grip I had on the box in my pocket as if it burned me. I wonder if she knew I was going to propose. Maybe her dad tipped her off. I search her emerald eyes for answers, looking for any trace of guilt that simply doesn’t seem to be there.
I glance over at my best friend. Mason raises his eyebrows in question. I don’t have any answers. I merely shake my head at him in disappointment. The moment is over. People have gone back to their conversations. The crowd is bustling around us. It’s not going to happen tonight. Hell, now I’m wondering if it’s going to happen before Aaron comes only a month from now.
Take it slow. Her words echo in my head.
“Everything okay?” she asks, still beaming at me.
No, she didn’t know. I can read her like an open book. She had no idea I was about to fall to a knee and ask her to be my wife.
I pull her to me once again, kissing her softly on the lips before I whisper, “Everything is perfect.”
“I love that song, you know,” she says.
“Oh? I didn’t know you were a big Britney Spears fan.”
She giggles. “Not that song.”
I laugh and kiss the tip of her nose. “I know. I hear it every time you blare it through your earbuds. I hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”
“Are you kidding? It was wonderful. I’ve never had a song with a guy before. I guess that one will be ours.”
“Absolutely.” I rub her belly, for the first time feeling comfortable doing it without asking permission. “A lot of things will be ours soon.”
Someone clears their throat behind us.
I don’t have to turn around. I know exactly who it is. The party-crashing food guy.
“Give me a minute?” she asks, her eyes begging me not to make a scene.
I bring her hand up to my lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. “Yeah, okay.”
I make my way over to Gavin and Mason who give me sympathetic pats on the back. “It just wasn’t the right time,” I say.
Gavin hands me a beer. “It’s the stubborn Mitchell trait. I think they’re pre-programmed to make us sweat it out. Don’t worry, it’ll happen, brother.”
I nod, never taking my eyes off Skylar and John over by the door. He tries to pull her to him but she resists. I’m focused so intently on him that I can see a muscle in his clenched jaw spasm. I’m sure he’s trying to convince her why he’s better for her than I am. She keeps shaking her head and I think I see ‘I’m sorry’ fall from her lips more than once.
He puts a hand on her cheek and her eyes quickly flash to mine. Her head shakes ever-so-slightly in a warning for me to keep out of it. I swear if she was wearing my ring, I’d take the asshole down for laying a single finger on her. But she just became my girlfriend two minutes ago and I don’t want to screw this up. Still, I stand here watching every move, ready to swoop in and wipe the floor with him if he does anything remotely inappropriate.
She hugs him and my blood starts to boil. My eyes are glued to his hand on her back while I pound the rest of my beer. But before I can reach for another, a defeated-looking John walks out the front door and Skylar smiles over at me.
Griffin – 3
John-the-food-guy – 0
I win.
In two seconds flat, I’m standing before her. “Everything okay?” I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Everything’s perfect,” she says, throwing my own words back at me. “I told him I owe it to the baby to give us a chance.”
My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach. Of all the things I imagined her telling him, that wasn’t one of them. ‘Screw you, asswipe, I’m in love with Griffin Pearce,’ or ‘I can’t deny my feelings for him any longer,’ were more along the lines of what I was thinking.
She reaches over and grabs my hand as we walk back to our friends. I lift our entwined hands, my right with her left, and look at her still-empty ring finger. I try to bask in the victory I should be feeling over her breakup with John. But all I can think about is how much I want her to be mine.
Mine. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life.
chapter thirty-one
Skylar plops down on the couch, tired from the party. I run upstairs to get my present for her. I didn’t want her to open it in front of everyone. I wasn’t sure what her reaction would be.
I put it on the coffee table and sit next to her on the couch, pulling her feet onto my lap, massaging her arches like I’ve done so many times before. But never as her boyfriend.
Maybe I was stupid to think I could go from roommate to fiancé in one night. She’s right. We need to take this slowly. Neither of us is going anywhere. We’re about to have a baby. We have all the time in the world.
With her eyes closed, she moans as I knead the tension from her feet. T
he noise does nothing to squelch my libido that hasn’t been fed in far too long. I move her foot to the spot where she’ll feel exactly what she’s doing to me with her throaty sounds.
Her eyes snap to mine and for the second time tonight, she blushes. I shrug and nod my head to the gift on the table. “Open it.”
“You’ve done so much for me already,” she protests. “The party was wonderful. I can’t believe you got my dad to dance on stage wearing a pregnancy belly.” She laughs, her stomach bouncing up and down with every breathy giggle.
“It was my pleasure. I’m glad you had a good time.” I reach for the gift and hand it to her. “It’s not just for you. It’s for Aaron, too. And me, if you’ll let it be.”
Her brows come together and that adorable wrinkle creases her nose. She takes the package from me. It’s the size of a small shirt box. Her eyes keep flashing to mine as she rips the paper off. My heart rate increases exponentially, hoping she’ll be okay with it.
She pulls out the contents of the box—brochures and vouchers. She examines them and then gasps. “Paris? You want to take me to Paris?”
I put my hand on her belly. “I want to take you both there. The vouchers can be cashed in for plane tickets at any time. When you’re ready. When we’re ready.” I motion to the mantle across the room. “I thought maybe we could spread Erin’s ashes there.”
I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately; where to spread them. She always wanted to go to Paris. When we were at the Imax before she died, Skylar promised her she would go there someday and do everything that Erin dreamed of doing.
Skylar nods, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears pooling in her eyes from spilling over. “It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten. It’s the perfect place to spread her ashes. Thank you.”
White Lilies (A Mitchell Sisters Novel) Page 26