Checking my phone as soon as I’d walked inside seemed like playing into my panic, so I ignored it. After a shower and downing an entire bottle of water, I finally allowed myself to grab it from under the recliner. There were two messages waiting for me, and both were from Morgan.
The first was a photo of Etta in her crib. She was sleeping with one hand hanging out between the rails and the other flung out above her head, wearing nothing but a T-shirt that had a motorcycle rally logo on it and a hot-pink diaper. The next was a text message.
Sorry about that. My dad has people over. I’ll text you in the morning.
Once I read the message, the photo seemed a little like a peace offering. I wasn’t sure why she felt like she needed one, but I wasn’t going to complain. Checking the time stamp, I huffed when I realized she must have sent it less than a half an hour after I’d left the house. She was probably asleep by now, so I didn’t bother replying. I should probably keep my mouth—or in this case, my typing fingers—to myself anyway.
I climbed in bed and stared at the ceiling.
Never in my life had I worried so much about what a woman besides my mother, aunt, or cousins thought. I’d never really cared enough. Sure, I was careful with women’s feelings and I treated them well, but I’d never worried that something I said would make them bail.
If I was being honest with myself, my worries about Morgan cutting contact went far deeper than her allowing Etta to get to know us. That was a concern, always, but in the time I’d known them, Morgan had become just as important. I craved her like I’d never craved anything in my life, even knowing how wrong it was. I wanted them both, and that scared the shit out of me.
* * *
“Monday morning,” my cousin Alex yelled through the phone as soon as I’d answered the next day. “I just love a Monday morning!”
“Are you drunk?” I asked tiredly, contemplating hanging up as I strode toward my office. “Some of us are working.”
“I’ve been at work for hours,” he replied. “I’m just so glad it’s Monday.”
“What do you want?”
“Just calling to say hello. Shoot the shit. Chat. See how it’s going with Etta and the hot mom.”
“Who told you she’s hot?” I asked, coming to an abrupt stop.
“No one.” He started chuckling. “But Kate said you had a thing with her, and by your tone, our dear Katherine was correct.”
“Oh, fuck you,” I muttered, continuing to my desk so I could sit down and put my feet up. After riding half the night, and tossing and turning the other half while I waited for an acceptable time to text Morgan back, my entire body was aching and I was so tired my eyes were burning.
“I gotta say,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “This development surprises me. You and Hen never had the same type.”
“She’s everyone’s type,” I snapped back, lacking my usual finesse. “Fuck, I didn’t mean that. Forget I said it.”
“That pretty, huh?”
“Is there a point to this conversation?”
“Not really,” Alex said sunnily. “Just checking in with you. We haven’t talked in over a month.”
“Sorry, man,” I murmured, feeling instantly guilty. I hadn’t been very good at returning calls, even though part of me was anxious to talk to everyone daily just in case something happened. I’d rarely talked to my brother while he was away and then suddenly I didn’t have any more chances. I didn’t want that to happen ever again.
“No worries,” Alex said. “Just figured it was time.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, thankful that the discussion had veered away from Morgan. “How you been?”
“Good. Just working a lot.”
Something in his tone was off.
“And?” I asked.
“Met someone,” he said, his voice a bit more serious.
“Oh, yeah?” I wasn’t sure what to say. Alex had always been more of a playboy than anything else. I didn’t remember him ever bringing up a woman in conversation.
“She’s great, Trev. Seriously. Not sure she likes me all that much, though.” He chuckled a little uncomfortably.
“No fucking way.” I laughed. Even Morgan had reminded me how attractive the fairer sex found my cousin. I’d never once heard him complain about striking out or even coming close.
“She’s…serious. About everything, man. I can barely get her to laugh.” He sighed. “When she does, though, it’s like Christmas.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I mumbled, making him laugh.
“I know, I know. I sound like a dumbass.”
“Slightly.” He did sound like a jackass, but what really bothered me was the easy way he spoke about the woman. I was so jealous of him I could barely see straight.
“She’s great, man. Really. I think you’ll like her.”
“I’m going to meet her?”
“Eventually, if all goes well, yeah.”
My mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. He was actually serious.
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. Whoa.”
We were both silent for a long moment.
“So, am I gonna meet Morgan?” he asked finally. “That’s her name, right?”
“You’ve already met her,” I replied. “Surprised no one has shared that little tidbit of information with you.”
“What?”
I spent the next twenty minutes explaining to him how Morgan had lived with us as a kid, and trying to describe what she looked like without comparing her to Christmas the way he’d done with his new girl. Even without flowery descriptions, though, I was pretty sure he saw right through me. Thankfully, he didn’t give me too much shit about it, and eventually we got off the phone, agreeing that we’d make a point to talk more often.
I actually felt better after our conversation. My infatuation with Morgan seemed less and less obscene the more she came up in conversation, even though I really didn’t want to be discussing her with anyone. Knowing that neither Alex nor Kate seemed angry about my little infatuation made the entire situation more palatable, I guess. They made me feel like less of a creep for slobbering after my little brother’s ex. The guilt, though, was still there, slithering underneath my skin.
I set my phone on my desk, then swore and picked it back up, deciding to text Morgan a reply to the photo she’d sent instead of replying to her apology.
Did she even move in her sleep? She looks completely exhausted.
A few minutes later, she texted back.
That’s what happens when you’re spoiled rotten all day. She’s not used to all these people doting on her. ☺
Well, she better get used to it. She’s got about twenty more people waiting in the wings to do just that, I replied.
Yeah, about that.
I waited, watching the little dots on the screen for what seemed like a very long time.
You guys can visit whenever. I think we’re as settled as we’re going to be and I’m sure your mom is going crazy waiting.
I huffed in surprise. As much as I wanted to take Morgan at her word, she’d been so dodgy that I hadn’t really expected her to invite us down there—especially after my slipup the night before.
I breathed a sigh of relief and decided to call her instead of texting.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Hey.” My voice came out all weird and garbly, and I quietly hit the heel of my hand against my forehead in irritation. Yeah, apparently my anxiety wasn’t completely gone.
“Trevor, you called me,” she said, laughing a little at my awkward silence.
“Right.” I wiped a hand over my face, trying to get my act together. “I just thought it would be easier to talk instead of text. You’re serious about us visiting whenever? Because the minute I tell my mom, she’s gonna want to start driving south.” I may have been exaggerating, but it wasn’t by much. I wouldn’t have been surprised if my mom was already halfway packed in anticipation.
Morgan laughed nervously. “Yea
h, I’m sure. Come whenever. I have to start looking for a job tomorrow, but other than that we’re pretty free.”
“Are—”
“So—”
We both spoke at the same moment, then stopped.
“So, I can’t wait to see you, either,” she said finally, her voice a little tentative.
“Jesus, woman,” I muttered, glancing at the open door to my office and wishing I’d closed it. “You made me wait for that one.” What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t even falling down the rabbit hole, I was fucking jumping. I just couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“I know,” she replied. “Sorry.”
“I’m—” Someone paused in my doorway, and I stuttered to a stop. Hell, I knew I shouldn’t try talking to her at the office.
“Brought doughnuts,” Bram said grumpily. It looked like he still wasn’t getting much sleep. “Get one if you want.” Then he stomped away without waiting for a reply.
“Shit, are you at work?” Morgan asked.
“I’m the one who called you,” I replied with a smile. “Remember?”
“Oh, right. Dang, you’re slacking.”
“I’m part owner, so I do what I want,” I boasted.
“No you don’t!” Bram yelled from the other room, making me regret again that I hadn’t shut my office door.
“Shut it, Bram,” I yelled back, trying to cover the microphone on my phone.
“I’ll just talk to you later,” Morgan said, laughing. “Let me know what your mom says.”
“All right,” I replied, almost calling her “beautiful” but stopping myself at the last second. I needed to stop this train before it completely left the station. “I’ll call you tonight.”
I set my phone down on my desk as soon as we’d said good-bye and hopped to my feet, barely refraining from punching the air in celebration like some nineties sitcom hero. I was a mix of jumbled emotions: guilt and worry, a little bit of fear, and a whole hell of a lot of excitement. I was going to see her, and not only that, I was going to introduce my parents to Etta. I had what my mom liked to call “ants in my pants” and there was no way I was going to be able to stay at my desk. Instead, I walked to Bram’s office to give him shit.
“Still not sleeping?” I asked cheerfully, smiling when he flipped me off.
“I don’t think she needs it,” he answered seriously, lifting his hands in supplication. “Honest to God, I don’t think my child requires sleep.”
“Sure she does.”
“No, I’m completely serious. She’s up like twenty hours a day. It’s insane.”
“How’s Ani?” I asked, leaning against the door frame.
“She’s in a pissy mood and pretty much hates everything except Arielle.”
“So what you’re saying is she’s being mean to you,” I said with blatantly fake sympathy.
“Man, I just want to sleep with my woman,” he grumbled. “And when I say sleep, I mean sleep. I doubt I could even do more than that at this point.”
Bram wasn’t much of a talker, and was even less so when something was bothering him, so I instantly grew serious at his words. It was kind of funny that Arielle was keeping them up so much, but I could see the toll it was taking on him, and it wasn’t a small one.
“Why don’t you guys leave her with me tonight?” I asked, still thrumming after my conversation with Morgan with an energy that made staying up all night with an infant seem like an okay idea.
“Are you serious?” he asked, his face sagging with relief. “Please be serious right now.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Give Ani a call and let me know.”
“Oh, I’m telling you yes right now,” he said firmly. “Ani can argue all she wants.”
“Cool.” I pushed myself away from the door frame and stretched. “Let me know later when you want to drop her off. I’m headed out for the day.”
“What?” he asked, his head jerking back in surprise. “Where you going?”
“I’m the boss,” I joked. “I’m going wherever I want.”
I walked away with the sound of his curses ringing in my ears. I felt for him—Monday was always super busy for us and it was going to suck trying to get everything done while I was gone, but there was no way I was going to be able to work. My mind was too cluttered with Morgan and Etta and the trip I needed to plan so I could get down to see them.
I left the office and drove straight to my parents’ house. I’d been avoiding my mom since Morgan had put off any visiting, and I was anxious to tell her she could finally make some plans. I just hoped I could tamp down my excitement enough that she didn’t see right through me.
“Hey, Ma?” I called as I opened the front door. “Where you at?”
“She’s out back,” my dad replied, coming down the hallway. “What are you doing here at eight in the morning?”
“Took the day off,” I said, laughing a little at the surprised look on his face.
I wasn’t someone who took random days off. I planned and let them know in advance if I wouldn’t be in the office, and I didn’t even do that very often. If there was one thing my dad had taught me, it was the value of a good work ethic. My career in the family business hadn’t dampened that; if anything, it made me work harder. As one of the owner’s sons, I set the example, and I didn’t want it to be a shitty one. We were building something that was going to last, hopefully for generations. I wouldn’t jeopardize that by half-assing my job.
“Well,” he said with a shrug. “You wanna spend your rare day off with your mama, you be my guest,” he teased.
“Can’t think of better company,” I replied.
We walked out back to where my mom was planting flowers in little pots, and I sat down on the porch steps to watch her work.
“Trevor,” she said happily. “What are you doing here?” I guessed I’d surprised both of them.
“I got a call from Morgan today,” I said easily, leaning back against the porch. “She said whenever we want to visit, we’re welcome.”
“Really?” Mom asked, pausing with her hands still wrist deep in the soil. “God, that’s a relief.”
“I told you she just wanted to settle first,” I reminded her.
“Well, yes,” she replied, her hands moving in the soil once again. “But I thought that just might be to put us off, you know? A lot can change in ten years—we don’t really know this woman. She could have any number of things running through her head. I’m just glad she’ll let us see little Henrietta.”
“You’ll like her, Mom,” I said, watching her closely as my dad sat down in a lawn chair near us. “And she already likes you.”
“I never said I didn’t like her,” she argued. “What I remember, anyway. She was a sweet girl. Good manners, though I have no idea where she picked those up, considering her parents.”
“She still has good manners,” I replied, a little bothered by my mom’s comment. From what Morgan had said, her dad was a stand-up guy. Sure, he’d had trouble in the past, but from what I could tell, he was a good father. Besides, if she really judged by where a person came from, her view of me and my brothers couldn’t be very high.
“When did she say we could go visit?” my dad asked.
“She said whenever,” I replied, trying hard not to open my mouth and ask my mom exactly what she’d meant about Morgan’s parents. “So, as soon as we decide to go, we’ll go.”
“Good, I’ll go put my shoes on,” my mom joked. I forced a smile.
“I told her that was a possibility,” I confessed.
“Oh, yeah? What else have you told her?” Mom asked.
“That you’re great,” I replied, my smile coming more easily at her teasing tone. It was hard to stay mad at my mom for any length of time. “That you can’t wait to meet them. That we all consider them part of our family.”
“Oh, good,” my mom said. “I’ve clearly raised an intelligent man.”
“Was that ever in question?”
“Well,” my dad sa
id, drawing out the word and making my mom laugh.
“We can go whenever you’re ready, Mom,” I said, my voice a little quieter as I watched her wind down from excitement to nervousness. This was the Mom I knew, the worrier. Not the woman who ranted about her sons’ sex lives and insinuated that someone with bad parents was somehow less.
“I was ready months ago,” she said, giving me a sad smile. “I was ready the minute I knew about her.”
“I don’t know about that,” my dad said. “Pretty sure you weren’t ready for anything but a fainting couch at that point.”
“I’ve never fainted,” my mom argued, rolling her eyes.
“First time for everything,” my dad muttered.
“How about Friday?” my mom asked, glancing at me. “Is that too soon?”
“Nah, Friday’s good. I’ll let Morgan know.”
“You seem like you’re pretty good friends with her now,” Mom said, her voice curious in a way that was almost insinuating. The calm that had been settling back over me was gone again in an instant.
“We get along pretty well,” I replied cautiously, not knowing where the conversation was headed. “She’s a cool girl.”
“Woman,” my dad corrected.
“Woman,” I clarified.
My phone started ringing and I answered it quickly before my mom could continue her questioning.
“Bless you,” Ani said before I could even say hello. “Bless you, bless you, bless you.”
“I didn’t sneeze,” I joked.
“I owe you huge,” she replied. “Thank you so much.”
“Excited to finally get some sleep?” I asked, then whispered Ani’s name to my mom, who was staring questioningly at me.
“Dude, you have no idea. None. I was actually wondering if you could pick Arie up tonight because I’m too nervous to drive this tired.”
“Sure,” I said immediately. I didn’t want her driving tired and it was easy enough to buckle Arie’s car seat into my truck. “What time?”
“Seven. No, five. No, six. Does six work?”
Heart of Glass Page 12