The Right Side of Wrong

by Prescott Lane

  I don’t want Catrine to worry or stress. She’s about to pop any day now, and she needs to be focused on that—on happy things. I plan on going to see her tomorrow. I know Finn’s not contagious, but we were in the hospital filled with germs, so no telling what he has now. I swear, if you’re not sick going in, you’re sick coming out. The last thing Catrine needs is to get sick, so I’m going to be extra careful.

  Laying Finn down in his crib, I grab the monitor. It’s a little late in the day for a nap, but I’m a firm believer that rest is the best medicine there is. So schedule or not, he’s tired, and he should sleep.

  I should probably take a nap myself, but I’m not the best sleeper at night. I’m an even worse napper. Walking downstairs, I collapse on the sofa, needing to catch up on a few things, but I can’t help my mind from wandering to more pleasant things.

  Slade’s question about birth control tells me he’s more than ready to take the next step. Who am I kidding? The man’s been ready. But I think I finally am, too. I should’ve been more prepared for his question about birth control. The last thing I wanted was to bring a baby into my old life. Ironic, because now I have Finn. But I got him out. We aren’t in that shitty life anymore.

  I’m keeping my promise to him. And it’s not that we are living in this fancy place, or can now shop at the mall. Those things do make life nice, but . . . The doorbell rings, disturbing my thoughts. Rushing to answer before it rings again and wakes Finn, I open the door without looking to see who it is.

  His blue eyes look around me. “My son home?”

  A visit from Slade’s dad was not on my agenda today. “He went to the office for a couple of hours.”

  “I called him there, but they said he wasn’t in.” Lyle raises an eyebrow. Obviously, Slade made his secretary relay that lie. “I thought he was probably home with you and Finn.”

  “He’s not here,” I say, opening the door a little wider for him to see I’m telling the truth.

  “How is Finn?” he asks. “Slade never updated me.”

  Sometimes, I think I’m too soft because that just made my heart hurt a tiny bit. Slade called his dad for help, then doesn’t update him or let him know what’s going on. He simply used him for his connections. That’s cold, but I have to remember the history between them.

  “It turns out, it was just an ear infection,” I say. “He’s asleep.”

  His eyes glance at the stairs. “I remember Slade’s mother and I rushed him to the emergency room when he was only about a year old. He was just learning to walk. You know, unsteady. The dog ran past him and knocked him over. He got quite a bump on his head. Scared the hell out of us. Turns out, he has a really hard head,” he says with a knowing smile.

  Smiling back slightly, I say, “Finn’s not walking yet. I’m not looking forward to it.”

  “When your child takes his first steps, it’s this strange mix of pride and fear. I remember thinking those were his first steps away from me.”

  Dial another dose of sympathy right up. His blue eyes cast down. He and Slade are a lot alike. To the outside world, they both look like men not to be messed with. They carry an air of power, control, but those of us who know them, know the softer side of them—the side that’s been hurt and broken. I’m much the same. I open the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

  He walks inside, but I don’t close the door behind him. He looks back over his shoulder, noticing I’ve left it open. If he’s offended, I don’t care. Being in a locked room with a man I barely know isn’t going to happen, Slade’s father or not.

  “Thank you for helping last night,” I say, not taking a seat. It’s strange to be in the same room with him, given how we started. Awkward doesn’t begin to describe it, but I want to move past it, and he seems to want to as well.

  Lyle sits down on the sofa. “It was nothing. Besides, if this thing between you and my son goes where I think it’s going, Finn will be my grandchild.”

  Why that never occurred to me, I don’t know.

  He chuckles to himself. “Never thought that would happen.”

  “Why not?” I ask, stepping a little closer.

  “Have you met my son?” he says with a grin. “He doesn’t let people in. Ever since his mother died, he’s been very hard to reach.”

  “Maybe that’s because you blamed him for her death,” I say with attitude.

  He looks up at me. “He told you about that, huh?”

  “He told me everything.”

  “You know, I’ve tried over the years to make amends with him. I’ve apologized to him countless times. It’s no excuse, but I was out of my mind with grief. Slade won’t hear any of it.”

  “I thought he told me everything,” I say, sinking down into a chair. “But he never told me that.”

  “Slade’s real problem isn’t needing me to forgive him. It’s him needing to forgive himself,” Lyle says. “It was my job as his father to help him do that. I didn’t do a very good job.”

  “He told me you two used to be close.”

  He clasps his hands in front of him, looking over at me. Something is different about the way he looks at me now. I can’t pinpoint it. “After my wife passed. . .” Even after all this time, his voice gives when talking about her. “I was a real bastard. The things Slade saw me do. The things I said to him.” He shakes his head at himself. “Eventually, I moved that out of the house, but the damage was done.”

  More than a little curious, I ask, “And now?”

  “I like my life,” he says. “My relationships are simple. I gave my heart to one woman a long time ago, and she still has it. The rest of my life is just passing the time.”

  I’ve heard and seen a lot of sad things in my life, but what he just said broke my heart. Even though his wife has been gone for years, I can feel his pain like it happened yesterday. I’m new to love, but I’m no stranger to pain. Perhaps, that’s our common ground. I haven’t been a fan of Lyle Turner, but maybe I need to think again. “I just realized I don’t know her name. Slade’s mother?”

  “Juliet,” he says.

  “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “She’d be so disappointed in what Slade and I have become.”

  I want to tell him there’s still time to fix it, but I know better than anyone that things can’t always be fixed. I don’t think this is one of those times, though.

  “You’re a mother. You understand?”

  “Dad?” Slade says from the doorway. I was right to keep the door open. “What are you doing here?” Slade’s eyes go to me as if to ask if I’m alright.

  I give him a little nod. “Your dad just stopped by to check on Finn.”

  “I should go,” his dad says, getting to his feet. “I’m glad little Finn is feeling better.”

  “Thank you again for helping last night,” I say.

  He looks back at me, and this time I place the look in his eyes. Now he looks at me like a father looks at a daughter. Growing up, I never had that. It’s slightly uncomfortable to have it now, especially considering this man once had his hand on my ass. If my relationship with Slade is going to last, we need to fix this family stuff. A relationship doesn’t happen in a bubble. It includes the people around them, their family.

  “Maybe next time, Finn can thank you himself,” I say as Slade’s head whips around. “He’s pretty good at blowing kisses.”

  “I’d like that,” he says, smiling at me before looking at Slade. “She reminds me of your mother.”

  Slade glances at me. He’d told me the same thing. With a mischievous grin on his face, he says, “She makes me eat my vegetables just like Mom used to, too.”

  His dad chuckles, and I wonder when the last time they talked about Juliet was. “God bless her, your mother was a terrible cook. For Finn’s and your sake, I hope Paige isn’t like her in that way.”

  “I’m a good cook,” I say, moving to Slade’s side. “Maybe you could see for yourself sometime. Come over for dinner.”

&n
bsp; Both of them look at me like I’ve grown an extra head. Perhaps it’s stupid of me to try to help mend this relationship. But I see potential here, potential I’ll never have in my own life. I don’t even know who my father is, so I hate to see others throw away what so many of us would kill to have.

  “She backed us into a corner with that one. Didn’t she?” his dad says, looking at him.

  “She has a tendency to do that,” Slade says.

  “I do not,” I protest, but neither one of them is paying attention, each waiting for the other one to make the first move.

  “You let me know if or when you ever want that to happen,” Lyle says to his son. “And I’ll be there.”

  Slade gives him a nod, the ball fully in his court. I have a feeling it’s been there for a long time, but he’s just never picked it up. Lyle reaches out, giving my hand a brief squeeze. “Thanks for inviting me in,” he says, and I know he’s talking about more than me inviting him into the house. He’s referring to my invitation to include him in our lives.

  When the door closes behind him, I make a break for the upstairs, suspecting Slade is not going to be happy I let his father in. Slade stops my escape, taking hold of my waist. “What the hell was that? You and my dad are best friends now? Did you forget how you met?”

  Pulling away, I say, “No, I didn’t forget. Not that you’d let me.”

  “Am I just supposed to forget about the fact that my father wanted to bang the woman I’m with?”

  “If he and I can move past that, then you should, too. He obviously doesn’t think about me that way anymore.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes, I am.” We stand there staring at each other for a few moments, neither one of us willing to give an inch. “Both of us know this isn’t about me,” I say, breaking the standoff.

  “He can’t just make a phone call to help Finn one time and . . .”

  “You’re right,” I say. “That doesn’t make up for years of shit.”

  “You’re crazy if you think he’s going to be some sort of grandfather to Finn. Can you really see that man on the floor playing trucks with Finn?”

  I shrug. “Yeah, I kind of can.”

  “I know you grew up without much of a family and are probably starving for some sort of fairy tale family life, but . . .”

  “How can you say something like that to me?” I say, stepping away from him. “This doesn’t have anything to do with me. Maybe I overstepped with the dinner invitation, but I wanted you to know that I don’t want to be the reason you two don’t work things out. That’s all.”

  He hangs his head, making him look so young. He reaches out for me. “I’m sorry, baby. That was a terrible thing for me to say.”

  Moving toward him, I lightly touch his cheek, knowing he’s tired from last night, and dealing with his father is never easy on him. It brings up a lot of bad crap. “He seems lonely.” Slade leans his forehead on mine. “Think about the way he lives his life. How lonely that must be? And not to have any relationship with his son on top of that.”

  He pulls back slightly, looking into my eyes. “That would be like if, in thirty years, Finn doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  I nod, but all I can think about is how I hope Slade’s still talking to me in thirty years, how I hope we’re all still a family.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  SLADE

  Finn in his stroller, I push him through the streets of Nashville. It’s hot as hell today. I hope Clay and the rest of the stable crew are keeping the horses hydrated. It’s a miracle the stable stood up to that storm. The horses were spooked for a few days, but I’ve been told they’ve settled down nicely. Construction has already started on the house, and I only hope we can be in before Finn’s birthday.

  Since it’s technically a workday, I should still be at the office, but I’m the boss, so I do what I want. Besides, with the golf course opening behind me, things have settled down a little. Of course, there are always other projects, but I’ve worked hard to build my business, so I can afford days like this. And it’s going to be a big day.

  I used to be the master of my own universe, but now the master is this little guy and his mommy. It’s amazing how quickly life changes. My life used to be ruled by work, women, and whatever the hell else I wanted. Now it’s ruled by nap schedules, diaper changes, and whatever the hell Paige wants. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Since Paige is occupied for the afternoon, I decide to take advantage of her absence. Babysitting so she could visit Catrine was the perfect cover. Finn and I have a special outing planned. I know Paige said it was too soon, but I’m not a man who takes no easily. The next time I pop the question, I’m going to be ready, and that means I’m coming armed with a ring.

  It can’t just be any ring either. It has to be special and one of a kind, so I’m taking Finn to a local jewelry designer. She only works by appointment. And you better know someone if you want an appointment. You can’t just walk in.

  Two armed guards wait at the entrance. Once I give my name, I’m allowed to enter. I push Finn inside. The place isn’t large. The lights are turned down low except for the spotlights on the jewelry cases that line the walls.

  A table in the center is covered in black velvet and has a seat on each side. That’s it. The diamonds and gemstones are the focus of this place. Each wall is lined with cases, set against black velvet again, and the light makes everything glisten. Some bigger pieces rotate on a pedestal while others are set in their own private cases.

  “Mr. Turner.” A voice greets me, coming through a door in the corner I hadn’t noticed. “Josephine,” she says, extending her hand. She’s a slight woman, very petite with dark features, and probably in her late forties.

  I shake her hand, and she bends down to shake Finn’s, too. “This is Finn. We’re shopping for his mother, Paige,” I say.

  “Engagement ring,” she says, and I remember telling them that when I made the appointment.

  Taking Finn from his stroller, I hold him on my hip. He immediately starts playing with the stubble on my face.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asks, leading me over to a case on the wall. “Size, shape, color?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, my eyes scanning the sea of jewels. “I just thought I’d know it when I saw it. Kind of like the woman. I knew she was special the instant I saw her.”

  “Take your time,” she says. “Think of Paige.”

  That’s easy to do. She’s a constant in my mind, my heart, my soul. All the space that used to be filled up by work or other things has become occupied by Paige. She’s taken up permanent residence in my heart. Whispering to Finn, I say, “What would Mommy like?”

  He reaches out for the glass case, his hands covered in drool, and I try to snatch him back before he leaves his fingerprints all over everything, but I’m not fast enough.

  She laughs. “Please don’t worry about it. Would you like me to take him while you look?”

  I shake my head. “No, thanks. This is something he and I need to do together.” Right as the words come out of my mouth, I see it. My breath stops just like it did the first moment I laid eyes on her.

  That’s the ring I’m going to slip on her finger when she becomes my wife.

  Josephine follows my gaze. “You have excellent taste.”

  That’s code for this is going to cost me. Paige is worth every penny.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  PAIGE

  My hands full with Mexican takeout, I ring the doorbell of Catrine and Jon’s house. I’ve never been here before. The house is in a gated subdivision just outside Nashville. It’s one of those picture-perfect neighborhoods where the kids still play outside, neighbors barbecue, and every lawn is meticulously manicured. It’s the fairy tale—at least from the outside.

  Behind closed doors, it’s the same crap that happens in every neighborhood. In one of these houses, some man beats his wife or is cheating on her. In anoth
er, they struggle to pay their bills, living paycheck to paycheck. And in countless others, drug and alcohol abuse. The only difference is here those things are wrapped up in prettier packages.

  Catrine opens the door. She looks fabulous, as always. Even carrying another human being in her belly, she can put any woman to shame. Her arms open wide, I think she’s pulling me into a hug, but she’s really grabbing the food. “You’re a lifesaver! Did you get the extra peppers?”

  Laughing, I follow her inside through the foyer. “Got ’em.”

  She puts the food down on the kitchen island. The kitchen opens into a great room with a fireplace and a view of the backyard. “Jon won’t let me eat anything spicy. He thinks it will make the baby come before he’s ready.” She opens one of the cartons. “I told him that’s the point. He also won’t let me exercise, and you don’t even want to know the last time we had sex.”

  “No, I don’t,” I say, laughing.

  “Speaking of,” she says, digging into some guacamole with a chip. “How are things going with you two? I have to tell you, I almost died when I saw him carrying you out of the house after the tornado. It would take a forklift for Jon to carry me now.”

  “It would not,” I say. “You look amazing.”

  “The other day, some woman at the store told me I looked pregnant in the face!” Catrine throws her hands up. “Seriously? Why does everyone think they can say things like that and touch your belly when you’re pregnant? Did you get that when you were pregnant with Finn?”

  “I think everyone gets that,” I say. “Did you and Jon decide on a name yet? Or is he permanently Chewie?”

  She rolls her eyes, pushing the bag of food over to me so I can grab something. “At this point, I think we’re going to have to meet him.”

  “Good plan,” I say. “I need to see his nursery.”

  “Oh, it’s a circus theme,” she says, leaping to her feet. “I’ll show you. It’s upstairs next door to . . .”