"He was playing you. That's what guys do. They say all the things that you want to hear just to get in your pants. You're a tough nut to crack, Winter. Playing on his dad's death though for sympathy? That's low."
I shut up then because everything Finn had done was seen only through her lens of their past. The Finn I knew—the one who chased after me, the guy who unselfishly gave me pleasure, the guy who spoke about his conflicted love for his dad and his concern for his mother—wasn’t like that. Nothing of the Finn I knew matched up with Ivy's view.
Other than high school Finn, Ivy's experience with men was poor. Most of them were the ones she’d used to score more drugs, and now she was knocked up by some mysterious guy. But I wasn't going to allow her past bad experiences to color what I had with Finn. My only regret about Finn was that we didn't spend more time together, but that was primarily my fault.
I hated sleeping away from Ivy, but that one night I'd invited Finn to stay had been disastrous. Finn hadn't slept well in my twin bed, and we'd both gone to bed worn out and aroused. Finn muttered the next day that he was buying me a new bed, but I didn't want that. What I wanted was to be able to sleep with him whenever I wanted. Besides, I liked paying my own way.
I figured once Ivy got over this stage, whatever it was, I'd be able to spend a few nights away with Finn. I was trying hard to be patient because the last thing I wanted was for Ivy to flake out and find solace in a bottle.
Once we got home, we carried the crib up in pieces. I had a small set of tools I'd kept from when I'd sold off Dad's stuff. It had a hammer, a couple of screwdrivers with different shaped heads, a measuring tape, and a small set of wrenches.
Ivy and I spent at least an hour trying to put the damn thing together, but despite the fact I had meticulously photographed the sales guy taking the crib apart, I couldn't reconstruct it.
"Try putting that screw here," Ivy said. I stuck the screw in even though I knew it didn't fit. "Not that hole. The one above it."
"Ivy, I tried before, and it didn't work." We were both losing our patience.
"This is the stupidest fucking thing." In a fit of temper, Ivy stood and kicked the crib frame. "Ow, fuck. That hurt. Jesus. We can't even put the stupid crib together," Ivy cried, throwing down the screwdriver. She stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door.
I heard her noisy sobs through the hollow core door. I wanted to put my head down and cry too. We were two twenty-somethings with shitty paying jobs bringing a baby into the world. It was criminally negligent in some ways.
If Finn were there, he'd have this together in no time. He could probably make one from scratch or from the pieces of our coffee table. I picked up my phone to call him.
Ivy stuck her head into my room.
"Finn's coming," Ivy said.
I looked at my phone. Had I called him and not realized it. "What?"
"I said, Finn is coming. I called him and told him to fix our crib. He'll be here in fifteen minutes."
"You called him?"
"Yeah, what of it?" She jutted her chin out in challenge.
What of it? I wanted to shout at her back. He’s my boyfriend, not yours. But I didn't because I was the calm, got-her-shit-together sister and not the drug addict, knocked-up one.
"I would have called him," I said, trying to keep my anger out of my voice. Was I getting upset over nothing?
"Because you're fucking him, I can't even call him now?"
A red hot flush washed over me, and I almost attacked her. I almost struck her. My own sister. I took a step toward her, my hand raised before I could even think. We stood frozen for a moment. She slouched as I loomed in front of her, and even though she had four inches on me, she was scared.
"What's happening to us?" she cried.
"I don't know." My hand dropped to my side and shame replaced my anger. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, me too, Winter." She rushed forward and gathered me against her. I felt the slight bump of her belly, but instead of excitement I felt resentment. I didn't know who I was turning into. "It's Finn, Winter. We never fought before he came along."
I patted her back by rote. Was it Finn? I didn't think so, but our life had changed since I started seeing him.
When he showed up with his tool belt, Ivy changed again. For someone who professed to not like him, she flitted around him like a butterfly.
"That should do it," Finn said, tightening the last bolt. He wiggled the side rail, and the crib didn't move at all. It was the most solid thing in our apartment now. If we had an earthquake, it would be the only thing left standing. Ivy was impressed too but not in the way I wanted. She looked at him like a cat looked at fresh cream.
I couldn't blame her. I'm sure I wore the same expression. Finn had come in, took one look at the pieces on the floor and put it back together faster than I could microwave three burritos for lunch, which is what I did while Ivy sat on the floor admiring Finn's handiness.
There wasn't anything more sexy than a capable man. For a pregnant woman, watching a capable man put a crib together was probably as orgasmic as the sex that had gotten her pregnant in the first place. At least that's what I was reading in Ivy's eyes, and I didn't like it at all.
She'd gone from Finn's worthless to Shit, this guy can do things in a very short time.
"Where do you want the crib? Out here or in one of your bedrooms?"
"My bedroom, please," Ivy replied. I think she batted her eyelashes at him. Finn picked up the crib, the muscles in his lean chest bunching. Neither of us could look away. He's mine, I wanted to shout. But seeing the two of them standing there together gave me a weird, anxious feeling. They looked like they belonged together. A flurry of snapshots of them getting ready for prom and then homecoming and the two of them going out on a date ran through my mind.
"You put that together so fast," she cooed, leading the way down the short hall. "Have you done that before?"
"Most things are put together the same," he replied. "Where do you want it?"
I heard the door close and then only muffled sounds. They were only moving furniture around to find a place for the crib, I scolded myself. But the sight of the two of them entering her bedroom, the door closing behind them, was a painful reminder of their shared past.
I placed two of the three hot burritos on plates and set them on the table. We only had two chairs. While Ivy and Finn were arranging space in Ivy's bedroom for the baby, I stood next to the sink and ate my burrito. I could only swallow half of it before I felt like puking. Dumping the uneaten portion in the trash, I quickly washed my plate and wiped down the counters. The door finally opened, and Ivy walked out with a sparkle in her eye.
"It looks good!" she cried. "Come and see."
I avoided looking at Finn, afraid of what I would see in his eyes, but the hallway was so small and he stubbornly would not move out of the way. I had to brush up against him, and just that tiny contact made my whole body flare up. His hand came to grip my waist, and he bent down—in front of Ivy—and kissed me. It wasn't full of tongue or particularly passionate. It was more of a declarative sentence.
One that said I'm with you.
I gave him a tremulous smile that caused his eyes to narrow in concern.
"Later," I mouthed to him, and he nodded letting me go.
I walked into the room, and the crib did look cute, but Ivy wasn't smiling anymore. Her face had grown thunderous, and the grip she had on the wooden rail had tightened so hard that her white knuckles were showing.
And it all suddenly made sense. Finn was the problem but not in the way I'd feared originally. Ivy didn't want him—oh she wanted someone, and Finn, wealthy, capable, and hot, was as good as anyone. She just didn't want me with Finn.
And that terrified me.
The Donovan sisters were being torn apart. Where death and drugs couldn't do it, this man and Ivy's pregnancy might. And I didn't know which side I'd end up on or how many pieces I'd have to pick up no matter which one I chose.
2
1
WINTER
Finn reluctantly left after eliciting a promise that I would see him later. I wasn’t sure when later would take place because Ivy and I had issues.
"We have to talk."
"About what?" she asked, walking back into the bedroom. "Did you see all those cute things at the baby store?"
"I saw expensive things."
She made a face. "I'm going to need maternity clothes pretty soon. All the cheap ones are hideous, but I found a couple of sites that sell really cute stuff. What’s our bank account look like?"
I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. "Very poor."
I still had money left over from the sale of our house, but I’d been saving that for…I wasn’t sure. Probably another house? It just wasn’t money I was willing to spend. In fact, dipping into it kind of terrified me.
It was more than enough to cover maternity clothes and cute baby things, but she'd need a car seat, and after the crib, she'd need a bed. And we'd need a three-bedroom place, not just a two. Very poor was an understatement.
"But how much?" she pressed.
I dug the heel of my hand into my forehead to make the pounding stop, but it didn't.
"With Finn's health insurance, we should be able to make it."
"Whatever," she replied sullenly and threw herself on the sofa. "God, we need to get out of this apartment."
"And do what?" I asked, grateful that we'd abandoned the topic of money.
"Fuck, anything. I'm just tired of staring at these dingy walls and the stupid ugly trailer that Finn has me stuck in every day."
"Maybe we could go to the zoo this weekend," I suggested.
"For God's sakes, can we leave the kiddie shit until we actually have a kid? What I wouldn't give for a beer."
I froze, causing Ivy to laugh bitterly.
"Look at you." She pointed her index finger toward me. "You don't believe I’m going to make it, do you? I can't even talk about drinking without you ready to run out and shove me into rehab."
"You've been clean for over a hundred days." I swallowed my own bitterness, and it burned all the way down my throat and emptied into my stomach. "I'm sure you'll make it another one hundred days."
"Then let's go out and do something. Go to a club and dance while I still look like I'm hot instead of a balloon."
"Fine. Let's go out."
"Fine."
We stared at each other, and I blinked first, leaving her in the living room to go hide in my bedroom. I just wanted to crawl under the covers and rewind the clock. As I was shoving a pillow over my head, the phone rang. I looked at the screen, and the caller ID said Finn.
"Hey, sweetness." His low voice, tender with emotion, was like a cooling cloth.
"Oh, Finn," I choked out.
"Should I come back? I didn't want to leave, but you seemed anxious to send me on my way. You stressed?"
His concern was melting me. "It's the baby. When we were at the store today, there were so many things they sell for babies. I didn't realize half the things we needed. And the cost. It was so expensive."
"I wish you'd called me. I would have went with you. Helped you out."
"You mean financially. It's not your responsibility."
He hesitated. "Maybe not, but I'd still like to help you out.
"I appreciate that. I really do, but—"
"I'm doing it for you, not for anyone else," he interrupted. "In fact, I wouldn't have come over if you hadn't been home."
"How'd you now I was here?"
"Ivy told me. I asked actually. I wasn't going to come over if you weren't there."
"We’re a mess."
"Everyone's a mess. Remember when you found me in the café?"
I did. He’d looked like someone had taken a melon baller to his chest and scooped out his heart. I knew what that felt like—how loss made your whole body ache. Even teeth ached, and nothing could take it away.
"I feel like we get over one hurdle, only to face another. Ivy gets out of prison. She falls off the wagon. She climbs back on. She's clean for a hundred days, and then we find out she's pregnant."
"Tell me what I can do. Give me a task. Anything."
He wanted to help out. It wasn't just words. It was important to him, which was why he’d raced over to help put a crib together for a kid that wasn't even his.
"She wants to go out. She needs to have some fun. She hasn't been out having a good time with friends or meeting people because of her sobriety. I should've brought her to the concert with us."
"Then let's have a party. My roommates have a friend in town, and we've been having parties nonstop. Bring her over, and we'll all help watch her for you."
"I don't know, Finn."
"Come on. Besides, we need a little time. You and me. These lunch hour meet ups aren't doing it for me."
"Me, either," I admitted.
"You could stay over. You both could. Adam's staying in the carriage house, and there's a sofa she could sleep on in there."
Unstated was that I could sleep in his bed, which I not only wanted, but needed.
"Okay."
"Great." Satisfaction infused his voice. "Tomorrow night. Bring a toothbrush. It's all you're going to need."
•••
"You been here before?" Ivy asked me when I parked the Honda several cars down from the driveway.
"No."
"It's enormous. He must have inherited a shit ton from his dad. How much money does Finn have these days?"
I thought it was a rhetorical question, and even if it wasn't, I wouldn't know. O'Malley Construction was one of the biggest commercial builders in the city, but Finn himself flipped houses, and I had no idea what kind of money you could make from that. And I didn't care.
"He bought the house before his dad died," I told her.
She raised her eyebrows and looked down at the big modern house with interest. The driveway was sloped, and as we walked toward the house, there were rubber tarps lining the side. At the base of the driveway a few guys were shooting hoops, and the front door was open.
Music blared, and people seemed to be everywhere. It was only nine. Ivy declared no one went to a party before the sun set, but apparently she hadn't been to one of Finn's.
The entrance of the house looked to be two stories tall. On the left were a set of closed doors, and on the right was an open area with two large sofas facing each other. Beyond that was a long walnut table with a matching bench running the length of it on one side and chairs on the other. A guy was lying on the table, and girls were spraying whipped cream on his body and licking it off.
This time it was me raising my eyebrows.
Past the whipped cream buffet to the right was a large white and steel kitchen and to the left was a great room with a big sectional and a huge television. I didn't know they made televisions that big. Out through the French doors, we saw a patio and beyond that the pool.
There had to be a couple hundred people inside and out of the house.
"Winter and Ivy Donovan, what took you so long?" Adam walked out of the kitchen with a red cup in either hand and an e-cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
He wrapped an arm around both of our shoulders. "Come and meet the crew. Finn's in the john."
He drew us into the kitchen and made introductions, more for Ivy's sake than mine. "This is Ivy, Winter's sister. The tall, dark, brooding guy is my roommate, Noah. Behind him is his girlfriend, Grace. The blond guy doing the tonsillectomy is Bo, and the poor victim is his girlfriend, AnnMarie. The tough dude with the tats and short hair is their friend, Gray. His name is the actual color," he fake-whispered and then looked around. "We're missing Mal and Lana." He swung us around toward the patio. "Mal's our other roommate, but I don't see him."
"What's your poison, ladies? We got virgin daiquiris and margaritas, and some Kaliber, Clausthaler Golden Amber, and Clausthaler Premium if you want the beer without the alcohol."
"I'm a fan of the Kaliber," Noah said raising his
bottle. It was half gone.
"Nah, go for the Clausthaler Golden Amber. Has a more malty flavor," his friend Bo said, taking a break from tonguing his girlfriend. She picked up a fruity drink.
It struck me then that all the guys Adam had introduced us to, as well as the girls, were drinking something non-alcoholic. I didn't make the mistake of thinking that the entire place was dry, but the hosts were drinking non-alcoholic beverages. I almost wanted to cry at the gesture, and I knew who was behind it. Oh, he was getting the best, longest, most spectacular blow job ever tonight.
"Ivy, as the new girl, it's up to you to decide which of these three beers is better tasting."
Bo opened the refrigerator and took out three bottles. Ivy looked at me suspiciously, as if I'd put them up to it, but I hadn't. I'd never request this kind of accommodation, but the fact that Finn and his friends would go to these lengths to make us—or Ivy—feel comfortable and have fun made me want to cry but for a host of reasons other than sadness.
I gave her a slight shake of my head to indicate I had no knowledge of this, and she allowed herself to be drawn over by the roommates into a taste testing contest.
"Finn's upstairs. Only door on the right at the top of the stairs," Adam whispered in my ear.
I hesitated, looking at Ivy, but Adam gave me a push. "Let us watch her for tonight. You go have fun."
I ran off. Literally. I bounded up the stairs and then knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" an impatient Finn said from inside.
I took the chance and opened the door. Finn was sitting on a chair, hunched over with his phone in his hands.
"Hey, I was just calling you." He rose and threw the phone on the chair. In two strides he was in front of me, drawing me into the warmth of his embrace. "What took you so long?"
"Ivy insisted that we'd look lame if we showed up any earlier."
He pulled me against his shoulder and stroked my hair. "I wanted you here yesterday."
"What's with all the tarps outside?"
"We built a slip and slide a couple weeks ago."
"Out of?"
"Air mattresses, tarps, and about ten gallons of baby oil. I think we killed the grass."
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