Snapdragon: Tiny Threads Part 20

He groaned and sat back. "I talked to her. I told her to shut her mouth about things, and Glenn did too. She thinks I'm turning into my dad-she actually f.u.c.king said that to me."

"I don't even know what to say to that, Royal. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, squeezing my hand on the table. "Let's just tell everyone to stay out of it. That includes Abbie. I know she means well, and I'm grateful she's been there for you, but I'm going to strap her to the front of my truck if she doesn't get off my b.a.l.l.s."

I laughed. "I'll talk to her, but I promise you nothing. It was your big idea to make her your a.s.sistant. I knew you two would end up killing each other. You're like her brother, Royal. She's hurting a lot."

Silence fell over us, and I stared at the untouched plates in front of us.

"I should get going," I said again.

He rubbed at his chest and flinched, and I'd never felt worse. If I didn't get out of there, I would never leave.

Once we paid our bill, boxed up the leftovers, and said our goodbyes, I headed home-with him following. As I pulled into the driveway and watched him wave from the curb before driving off, I felt empty. More empty than I'd felt in my life.

Chapter 14.

As the weeks went by, it got harder and harder to deal with having Royal away from us. We'd already made an appointment to see a counselor, and he seemed responsive to the idea-which surprised me. I wasn't sure what to expect, and frankly, I was a little scared. The whole idea was intimidating. Pouring my soul out to a complete stranger and admitting all my shortcomings and faults wasn't going to be pleasant.

Two weeks after our talk at the restaurant, Macy called from Sarah's, angry and unreasonable, begging me to pick her up. Royal had no words-no explanation.

It was becoming evident that she needed to talk to someone as well. Of course, she flat out refused. She was as hard-headed as her father, and with the possibility that she'd be going off to college in less than a year, I was afraid they'd never repair their relations.h.i.+p.

I'd been able to avoid Sarah, and that was another thing I'd have to deal with, eventually. It seemed that Royal and I had completely screwed up the entire dynamic of the family. Everyone was sullen and bitter, fighting and complaining, or just not talking at all.

It was such a f.u.c.king mess.

One of the few things I could honestly say had come out of our separation in a positive way was Royal and Benji. They'd always been close, but they'd become inseparable. Royal made sure he was there as often as possible, and they spent honest to goodness quality time together. It made my heart happy.

I tried to keep myself busy while Royal and Benji played in the backyard, but I couldn't help myself and kept stealing peeks out the kitchen window at them. They were cute beyond measure.

I stared at the stick for almost thirty minutes.

Two little lines.

I was more than familiar with the device. I'd seen the same results numerous times-four to be exact, but I was still shocked.

Positive.

I was pregnant.

We'd almost given up hope. We wanted at least one more baby, but we hadn't had any luck. I'd chalked it up to G.o.d telling us we'd been lucky enough. We had three beautiful, healthy daughters; it was more than we could've hoped for.

We'd talk about it sometimes late at night in the darkness of our room. When we lost Teddy, something in Royal disappeared. He'd had so many hopes and ideas he'd share with his son. I felt the lack of a father in his life made him want that relations.h.i.+p more.

Plus, I think he wanted backup in a house full of girls.

Then, for years nothing happened. We didn't complain or worry; we were content with our family. Now, I held the evidence of another tiny miracle.

And hopefully a boy.

I couldn't wait to tell Royal.

This time was special. I wanted to surprise him.

I planned a beautiful evening, set up a romantic dinner, and waited for him to show up. At a quarter after seven, two hours late, he waltzed through the door with Glenn.

I couldn't help my disappointment, and stupid tears poured from my eyes. I swatted them away before the men reached the kitchen.

"d.a.m.n, Jenna, what's cookin'? It smells delicious," Glenn bellowed from the doorway.

They both took in the table: the place settings, the candles, and the flowers. Both of them looked shocked and guilty.

"Did I forget something?" Royal asked. I could see the calculations running through his head, wondering if it was my birthday, or anniversary, or freaking groundhog's day. He forgot them all, anyway.

"No. I just wanted to surprise you. I had a surprise," I said sullenly.

His eyes darted behind me to the large stock pot on the stove.

"Crab?"

I nodded, willing the tears to stop. It was dumb to cry, but it seemed like the one thing I did the best when I was pregnant.

"Ah, f.u.c.k, I'm sorry, cookie. Don't cry."

He moved quickly across the room, sweeping me up in his arms. "I'm an a.s.shole. I should've called."

"It's okay," I cried into his s.h.i.+rt. "You didn't know."

"I just thought we'd all hang out tonight. Tara told Glenn you were taking the kids to Mom and Dad's for the weekend, so we figured we'd drink some beers and play cards or something."

I cried harder. "No, you two just go ahead. I'm going to sleep."

He chuckled into my hair. "Ah, come on. Don't be that way. I'll even buy you peach wine coolers," he teased and nipped at my ear. "I'll get you tipsy and we can mess around without kids in the house. You don't have to be quiet."

I whimpered. "I can't drink!"

He pulled back and looked at me, like I was insane. "Oh-kay, so we can just play cards or watch a movie."

"I'm pregnant!" I blurted, hiding my face and the stupid tears in his t-s.h.i.+rt.

I barely heard him growl at Glenn to get out before he lifted me into his arms and carried me upstairs. He laid me on the bed, grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, and came back to sit next to me, dabbing at the tears on my cheeks.

"A baby? Are you sure?"

I laughed, sniffed, and nodded. "Isn't it obvious? I'm a sniveling crybaby. Isn't that the first sign?"

He smiled. "Yeah, guess I should have known. So you took a test?"

I nodded. "It's in the kitchen wrapped up for you."

"A baby." He smiled, happy and hopeful.

"Are you happy?" I asked.

He pulled my face into his hands and looked deeply in my eyes. "Happy isn't a good enough word for what I am."

His lips were on mine, and I was pushed back against the bed. "A baby," he said, smiling against my lips. "I think we should make sure you're good and pregnant, don't you?" He let his lips trail down my neck, sucking and nipping and driving me into a frenzy.

I laughed. I felt so light, happier than ever. "Like insurance?"

I felt him smile against my skin as he worked the b.u.t.tons of my blouse. "Exactly."

He expertly removed the rest of our clothes and followed through with his insurance. Deep, loving, slow and tender. Not one inch of my body went untouched, unloved, or unpleasured. Late in the morning, after we'd spent the night making love, he let his hand roam my body.

"I f.u.c.king love you for giving me babies."

I giggled. "I couldn't do it without you."

His hand settled on my belly, his fingers digging in. "I think this one's a boy. It has to be," he whispered.

"Like this, Dad?" Benji asked as he teetered on the small skateboard.

"You got it, Bub. Now, push forward and kick your foot back to take off, then just keep pus.h.i.+ng and kicking to keep going. Swing your arms, too, like when you run."

I watched while Benji turned to pick up momentum, smiling at his tenacity. He wanted to do all the cool things Royal could do on the board and was determined to do all of it in one day. He was getting frustrated, but thankfully, Royal was so patient with him.

He'd rolled about four feet before one of the wheels got caught on a crack in the sidewalk and tumbled over.

"s.h.i.+t," he grumbled.

"Watch your mouth, Benji," Royal demanded. "You want Mommy to put soap in your mouth?"

"No!" Benji cried. "I'm sorry. It just came out."

I giggled under my breath, wiping my hands dry before stepping outside to watch them.

Royal laughed and shook his head. "Well, you can't say those words."

"You said it," Benji said simply.

Royal squatted down in front of him. "I shouldn't say bad words, either, but Daddies get to use different words, even though we shouldn't. Little boys can't cuss, okay. You don't want Mommy getting mad do you? What if she doesn't let me come play anymore?"

It was as if a bucket of ice had been dumped over my head. s.h.i.+vers shook my body and tears flooded my eyes.

What the heck were we doing? Did he really think I'd keep the kids away from him? The thought nauseated me.

For the rest of the afternoon, I did housework, watched television, and paid bills while Royal and Benji played. Then we sat on the patio for the most awkward family meal in history.

Macy wouldn't talk to him. It was painful watching her treat him badly, and I knew it was time for a serious sit down with her.

Halfway through the meal, Royal had had enough.

"Macy, you need to drop your att.i.tude, now. If you give me one more look, you can kiss your phone goodbye," Royal said in a voice much too calm to match the anger brewing in his eyes.

"Fine. I won't look at you at all," she snapped.

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it! That's enough!" he roared, slamming his fist on the table, causing all of us to jump.

"Royal," I warned. "Calm down."

He narrowed his eyes and looked like he was about to say something but reconsidered. "You know what, Macy? Go to your room."

Her face fell and her chin quivered. It was as I suspected-the bad att.i.tude was masking her pain.

"Fine. I can't wait until I get to leave this place for good!" She flung herself out of the chair and stomped out of the room.

The rest of us sat silently, mulling over the argument. I'd long lost my appet.i.te, so I dropped my napkin on my plate and laid my hands in my lap. I wanted to go to Macy, but I fought back against instinct and waited. He had every right to send her to her room-she was being a brat, but he also had to find a better way to communicate with her.

"What's going on, anyway?" Skylar finally asked, looking back and forth between us. "Are you getting a divorce, or what?"

"No!" Royal shouted, giving her a strong, firm look. "Absolutely not." He looked over at me for confirmation, and I lost it.

The tears welled in my eyes, and I left the table before the kids could see my cry. "I'm going to check on Macy."

I stopped off in the bathroom before facing her. Were we getting a divorce?

At that point, it was a possibility.

Did I want to do that?

No.

I knocked gently before going inside. I half expected the door to be locked but was glad it wasn't. I found her on her bed, face pressed into her pillow as she sobbed. Her back quaked with the force, and it broke my heart. I wondered what the h.e.l.l I could say to make it better. I didn't know what to say, so I just rubbed her back to comfort her.

"Do you want to talk?"

She shook her head against the pillow but swiftly turned over to face me. "I can't stand him, Mom! What's he even doing here?"