One to Tell the Grandkids

by Kristina M Sanchez

  “No.”

  Looking back to Taryn, Caleb smiled. He reached out, squeezing her shoulder once. “If it’s okay with Ann, it’s okay with me.”

  “You’re a good brother, you know,” Taryn said when they were heading away from Ann’s room after their visit. Caleb sucked in a quick breath. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

  “No.” He bowed his head, looking down at the floor as they walked. “It’s just not something I hear very often, that’s all.”

  “Well, you should. Not everyone could do this. Not everyone is strong enough.”

  “That’s what my father says. He says he isn’t strong enough, as if that excuses him.” There was a forced lightness to his tone, but Taryn saw the harder emotion in his eyes.

  She reached out, taking his hand in an impulsive gesture. “I think your father failed both his kids. He should be here not only for Ann but for you. He shouldn’t let you do this on your own.”

  She couldn’t read his expression when he looked at her, but the moment felt heavy—too intense to be comfortable. She pulled away, unsure if she’d overstepped her boundaries. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s nothing I haven’t said to him myself.” He ducked his head to catch her eyes. “I guess that makes you a saint, being here when you have no tie to us at all.”

  Taryn blushed. “I’m no saint.” It was a kind gesture, she knew, to spend time with someone so sick. No one liked hospitals of any kind, but convalescent hospitals were on a level all their own. Still, she didn’t want anyone, Caleb in particular, looking at her like she was doing it out of the goodness of her heart. Maybe that was true, but she had plenty to make up for where sick siblings were concerned.

  “When Bailey was sick and I was acting out, I used to make Mike so angry. I think it was a miracle he never hit me. I remember once, after he got me out of trouble again, he screamed and screamed at me. He said, ‘Bailey is so little, and she’s scared. She needs Mom and Dad right now. This is the one thing you can do for her—not take her parents away. She needs them more than you do.’ But over and over, I still kept getting into trouble.”

  “Just because your sister was sick doesn’t mean you stopped needing your parents.” He leaned in so close, his nose almost brushed hers. “And the fact you’ve done bad things in your life doesn’t mean the good things you do are meaningless. It means the world to me.”

  For a handful of heartbeats, Taryn couldn’t process his words. She was distracted by his nearness. The look in his eyes was sincere and intense. The world warped, and he was the only thing she could see. She was hyper-aware of the way his eyes traced the lines of her face, lingering on her lips.

  “Excuse me,” a man said under his breath as he passed by them to get into the hospital. The moment was broken, and Taryn’s head spun as she took one step away from Caleb, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  “Hey, Taryn?” Caleb’s voice was scratchier than usual.

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t have to go back to work today, do you?”

  “No.”

  “I have an inkling to go down to Newport. It’s been the kind of day only tacos and ice cream on the beach can fix.”

  Taryn grinned. That sounded fabulous, and she told him so.

  “When I was little, I thought I was going to be an actress. My mother took me to one audition. Just one. I got the part.”

  Caleb raised his eyebrows. “Really? Anything I know?”

  “No.” Taryn laughed. “It was a commercial for a local joint.” She leaned across the table, dropping her voice to speak in a scandalized tone. “They wanted me to eat chicken nuggets. On camera.”

  “Surely not.” Caleb widened his eyes in mock horror. “It’s too debauched.”

  “To say the least. A four-year-old needs her standards after all.” She raised her glass of lemonade. “To the short-lived acting career of Taryn Sato. You’ll never find me on IMDb.”

  Watching her, it occurred to Caleb her smile was beautiful. She seemed lighter today, at least since they’d arrived at the little taco joint on the beach. She seemed more at ease than he could remember seeing her.

  Something had changed between them. Maybe they had become true friends.

  “So what about you? What did you want to be when you were a kid?” Taryn asked.

  “Are you kidding? I’m living my dream. I’ve always wanted to own a bar.”

  “Shut up.”

  “It’s true. My grandfather built me a mini-bar when I was three, and I served up a mean juice mixed with more juice.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course not. A three-year-old with a bar? Whose parents are that cool?” He stroked his chin, remembering. “My grandfather did build me a rocking horse, but my mother was convinced it would fall apart if my chubby ass got near it.”

  “You were a chubby baby, huh?”

  “They called me Pudge for years.”

  “Cute.” Taryn shook her finger in his direction. “But I can’t help but notice you didn’t answer the original question.”

  Caleb made a face. “I wanted to be an archeologist.”

  “Oh. That’s interesting.”

  “No, it’s horribly boring and tedious. What I really wanted to be was Indiana Jones.”

  “I used to daydream I was his daughter, and he would take me on adventures. I nearly broke my leg once trying to swing from one tree to another.”

  “I can see that. You would have been better than Mr. Transformers.”

  Taryn brandished her fork at him. “That’s not difficult.”

  “Listen, just because you were in the business doesn’t mean you can get snotty.”

  Her smile was impish. “I’m going to the ocean,” she said apropos of nothing.

  “Are you?” She was already getting up. “You just expect me to pay your tab, then?”

  She threw a bill on the table large enough to cover her meal and then some, her expression challenging. “Don’t leave me alone long. I tend to space out near water. I’m likely to fall right in.”

  Caleb followed her with his eyes as she crossed the parking lot, headed for the sand. There was a jaunt in her step that made him happy. He picked up the money she’d set down, replacing her bill with a larger one, and hurried after.

  He found her exactly where she said she’d be. It looked like she was dancing with the surf. She already had her shoes in her hand, and she crept out on the wet sand only to scurry back when the waves threatened to go past her ankles. There was something pure and innocent about the satisfied smile she wore as she stood in the water. As he got closer, Caleb could see she was wiggling her toes in the sand.

  When he was near enough and she still hadn’t acknowledged him, he sidled up to her, ducking so he could speak in her ear. “I see how you are.” He laughed when she gave a little squeal of surprise. She really had spaced out. “You’re going to get sand in my car.”

  Taryn looked over her shoulder and smirked. “Don’t look now, but you still have shoes on. You’re going to get way more sand in your car than I am.”

  Before Caleb could retort, the cold water of the ocean engulfed his feet, the bottom of his pants, socks, shoes, and all. “Shit.” He stumbled backward out of the water.

  “And now you have soggy shoes.” Taryn laughed, skittering backward to avoid a similar fate.

  “Think it’s funny, do you?”

  “Your jeans are soaked.” She lifted her leg. “See, I rolled mine up.”

  “Uh-huh.” He took a large step in her direction and wrapped his arm around her waist. He tugged her forward into his arms, pulling her into the deeper water with him.

  “Caleb!” Her hands came down about his shoulders. Rather than try to get away, she clung to him as though she could keep herself out of the water. He chuckled, keeping his arms securely around her as though she were in danger of floating away in the four inches of water they were standing in.

  Taryn turned her head up to st
are at Caleb with accusing eyes, but her glare faded almost instantly. With her face tilted up like that, her lips were incredibly close. Just another inch and they would be kissing. And just like that, Caleb was consumed with the need to kiss her. Her breath stuttered, falling hot on his mouth. Her eyes darted from his lips back up to his eyes.

  He ducked his head half an inch, so close his lips tingled with anticipation. Her body shifted against his, and a jolt went down his spine at the feel of the hard swell at her belly. Her clothes still hid the bulge well, but at twenty weeks, with her pressed against him, he could feel it.

  Caleb cleared his throat, stepping backward until he was out of the water before he set her back on her feet. His mouth was bone-dry. Guilt or panic—it was hard to tell which was more prevalent as he tried to find the right words. Her cheeks were flushed, and the bewildered expression on her face left him aching. “I, um, I think I promised you ice cream.”

  You coward, he chastised himself.

  Taryn stared, but she nodded. “Okay. Ice cream. Yeah, that sounds really good.”

  She was carrying Slate’s baby, Caleb reminded himself repeatedly as they walked back to the cluster of shops and restaurants in awkward silence. Bad idea.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Taryn wrap her arms around her shoulders, all the lightness of the afternoon gone in a heartbeat.

  Bad idea.

  Why, he wondered. Once upon a time, he’d lost everything exactly like this. He would have thought his psyche would shy away from the idea of bringing on that kind of pain ever again. And Slate.

  Whatever had almost happened could have cost Caleb far too much. He had no idea where that heady moment had come from, and as sorry as he was that Taryn was hurting, he wasn’t going to explore it.

  Bad idea.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Slate was a lot more nervous than Taryn was. It was obvious he felt out of place in the waiting room. Taryn noticed him glancing at the others and self-consciously rubbing his hands up and down his tattoo-covered arms. When he started to bounce his leg, Taryn spread her hand wide over his knee, pressing down and giving him a pointed look.

  “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile. He bumped her shoulder. “Hey, you know what I did last night?”

  “Tattooed a drunk celebrity? Oh, please tell me you misspelled their tattoo on purpose.”

  He grinned. “I only do sober tattoos, thanks. No, I found my old weights in Mom’s garage. You know, the one-pound, three-pound, and five-pound weights? I got to thinking that Patch will be a little thing when he’s born. Or she. So I took the two five-pound weights and cradled them in my arms like this.” He demonstrated in the classic baby-holding pose, and then he looked up at her. “Is that stupid?”

  “I don’t think it’s stupid.” Taryn shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “But if you put a ten-pound baby in me, I’m going to kill you.”

  “Ten pounds seemed so light.”

  “Oh, Slate. You’re about to stick your foot in your mouth. And I’m the type of girl who holds a grudge. I’ll make sure you won’t see it coming when I punch you in the nuts.”

  Slate wrinkled his nose. “So violent. You never threaten a man’s jewels.”

  “I threaten a man’s jewels when he says ten pounds is light. Ten pounds is only light when it’s not being pushed out of my vagina.”

  Slate held his hands up in surrender. “I should have only used the one.”

  Taryn frowned, tightening her arms. “Five pounds is worrisome. Better for my lady parts, but it’s too close to ‘something’s wrong’ weight.” Her throat felt tight. This was one of her worst fears. The little life she carried was so fragile.

  “Hey.” Slate touched her arm, drawing her attention. “Compromise. I should have used the five-pound weight and both the one pound weights. How about that?”

  “Seven pounds is manageable. Seven pounds of a brand-new human.” She looked to him and let her hands fall to her lap. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

  His eyes were cautious as he looked back at her. “Ah, hell, I don’t know. I don’t know how you feel about it. I’m not really into the whole labeling thing. You call a kid a boy or a girl, there’s this set of rules that automatically apply to them, and I think that’s weird. Boy, girl, transgender—maybe I’d rather wait and let them tell me what they want to be.” He shrugged. “I want Patch to be healthy. I want not to mess up. That’s all I want.”

  Taryn squeezed his knee. “Me, too. I thought most guys were terrified of raising little girls.”

  “Nah.” Slate waved his hand. “The way Caleb talked about Trinity, she was lots of fun. Kids are great, no matter what appendages they have.”

  “Wait. Who’s Trinity?”

  “Oh.” Slate’s grin fell. “She’s a kid that used to hang around with Caleb.”

  “A kid with Caleb? Where was she hanging out, at the bar?”

  “No. Man. Look, just forget I said anything. Caleb doesn’t like talking about her.”

  Taryn bit the inside of her cheek. The only thing Slate had done was push her curiosity from mild to an F5 tornado warning. Still, she could tell by the look on his face he really hadn’t meant to say anything. She nodded and let him off the hook.

  Yet another piece to the mystery that was Caleb Ryder, and as usual, it only served to make Taryn more confused. She wrung her hands in her lap, distracted as she thought back to that day on the beach.

  Things were strained between them, and she didn’t understand why. Despite the fact they’d begun the afternoon in Ann’s hospital room, the rest of the day was so light and easy.

  But if she was being honest with herself, she had to recognize the air was dense when they were together. It was a physical thing that existed on her skin, made its presence known in the spaces between words. There was something between them she couldn’t explain. It was different than her camaraderie with Robin, Melanie, or even Slate. It was more than friendship she felt for the man. Caleb existed on a different plane, and it had never been more obvious than in that breath of space when he had her about the waist, held tight against him.

  A thrill had gone through her bloodstream, and she’d tensed. Her body had expected a kiss like it expected her next breath, and she’d felt out of sorts when he let her go instead. Had she imagined that electric moment?

  Had she imagined the awkward tint of their interactions the rest of the evening? Caleb had bought her ice cream as promised, and they’d talked, but it was different. She’d noticed that he wouldn’t look at her, but she couldn’t remember if he’d looked at her before. She found herself so much more aware of him than she was comfortable with. She began to overanalyze everything he said and wondered if his body language had changed or if she was going out of her mind.

  When he called on Thursday to let her know he wasn’t going to be able to carpool with her to LA that week, Taryn figured she wasn’t crazy; something really was wrong.

  “Are we okay?” she’d asked.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  But Taryn wasn’t sure.

  She’d visited Ann a number of times over the last week, but she hadn’t run into him. She didn’t know if it was okay to call, and she didn’t know what she would say if she did. How was she supposed to broach the subject? Hey, we kind of had a moment. Do you think we should talk about it?

  Taryn spread her fingers wide over her belly. She could explain the moment easily enough from her end. There was something to be said about the second-trimester hormones. She was horny, plain and simple. It was no big mystery that her libido would have given that innocent moment a sexual tinge. It was a perfect setup. The waves crashing at their feet, her arms around his neck, his around her body. In a movie, they would have tumbled to the sand for saltwater kisses as their wet bodies writhed against each other.

  Had he seen the spark of desire in her eyes? Was that what had scared him off?

  “Taryn Sato?”

  Taryn looked up at the
nurse.

  She smiled. “We’re ready for you.”

  Beside her, Slate sucked in a breath. Taryn squeezed his hand, and he looked over at her with wide eyes. “It just keeps getting more real, doesn’t it?”

  “There doesn’t seem to be any stopping it.”

  Caleb knew Taryn and Slate were going to try to find out the sex of the baby that day, so he was expecting a text. There were several pools going at the bar. Girl versus boy was the first and smallest bet.

  But rather than text, Slate showed up on his doorstep. Caleb’s eyes slid right past him to where Taryn stood, half-hidden behind him.

  “Hey, Caleb. You got any plans?” Slate asked. He was practically vibrating with ecstatic energy, oblivious to the tension Caleb felt plain as the breeze on his skin.

  Taryn wasn’t so oblivious. Her head was bowed, but her eyes flitted briefly up to meet his. Despite the uncertainty in her tight expression, his chest felt warmer just looking at her. He offered a small smile before he turned his attention to Caleb. “I guess I do now, right?”

  His friend was smiling like a lunatic. He put his arm around Taryn, his hand possessive over her belly. “You’re taking us out to celebrate. Patch has girl parts, and she’s perfect.”

  Somehow, Caleb kept his expression from souring. Of course he was happy for his friend’s news, but the announcement hit him like a bitterly cold wind for more reasons than he could count. His lips turned up because it was what Slate would expect, but his eyes found Taryn again. She was having trouble meeting his gaze.

  Caleb took a small breath. He hated that she was so uncomfortable, and he couldn’t be so distracted with Slate around. He looked back to his friend and smiled wider. “Well, that’s great. There’s not much better than a chubby, happy baby girl.”

  Slate winced, and his happy grin fell. Caleb could tell he was about to apologize. He’d remembered why the news wouldn’t be so easy for Caleb to hear. “You’re right,” he said quickly before his friend could say a word. “Come on, kids. We’re going to paint the town red. Or pink, as it were.”