Page 41 of Henhouse
Effie huffed. She wanted this to be easy. She wanted to have what Grams and Gramps had. He would put his arm around her on the sofa and sneak kisses when he walked by emptying the trash. When they danced he’d nuzzle into her neck and seemingly forget anyone else was in the room. They were affectionate and easy. She wanted that, but her insecurities seemed to have other plans. “No,” Effie sighed. She felt on the verge of a panic attack. She could really use a paper bag right now.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Theo whispered noticing her rising worry and taking up the space between them. He cupped her cheek. “Just breathe. Talk to me.”
Effie looked him in the eye. “Veritas?”
“Uh, truth? Yes. I want the truth.”
“You make me incredibly nervous. I don’t know how to . . . like the hand-holding and you kiss my forehead and . . . I haven’t done the affectionate couple thing and you’re so good at it and I feel like I’m one wrong step away from you realizing that I’m too weird or behind for you . . . I missed my first kiss.” Well, that was a mess of sweet, sour, tangy, metallic nonsense.
“You . . . what?”
“I missed. I was fourteen. It was at camp. This really cute boy walked me back to my cabin after a mixer thing, and standing at the door . . . he made like he was going to kiss me but didn’t come the whole way, I closed my eyes too early and kissed his chin. I missed. He walked out, probably thinking I was an idiot.”
Theo laughed.
“It’s not funny! I was mortified!”
“As anyone who missed their first kiss would be.” Theo chuckled but brushed his thumb down Effie’s cheek. “You seemed so confident this afternoon.”
“I was pretending.” He didn’t like that if his scowl was any indication. Effie knew logically her inexperience wasn’t a dealbreaker, that she was not the virgin sent to save the rake, but she couldn’t help but feel like she dragged him backward to a level of life he’d already mastered.
“Alright, new rules. You don’t pretend to be anything you’re not feeling, and I will be cool with it because as previously mentioned . . .” He leaned in close and whispered, “I kind of like you.”
“You might do well to see a therapist about that,” Effie quipped, noting Theo’s displeasure at her self-deprecation.
“Not unless she’d help me know you better.” Theo looked her upand down and she wondered what mischievous thought had him grinning like a fox. “Truth or dare?”
Effie felt like she’d revealed far too many truths in one day, so she said, “Dare.”
“Without thinking or stewing or mulling anything over, do something youfeellike doing right now. A cartwheel, the Carlton dance. Whatever you feel first. Just do it.”
“Okay, Nike.” She grimaced at him. “This is a weird dare.”
Theo shrugged.
Effie took a deep breath, clearing her mind. There was only one thing she wanted to do when she opened her eyes and saw Theo watching her, his face drenched in admiration. She didn’t think and tugged him in close. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she rose onto her tiptoes, planting a deep, claiming kind of kiss on his lips. They pulled apart, both a bit breathless, Effie floating on the high of getting exactly what she wanted in that moment.
“I would have guessed cartwheel,” Theo whispered.
Effie smiled at him before striding forward and sipping her tea. Much to Effie’s satisfaction, it took Theo a beat to seemingly remember how to move his legs, but he caught up in a hurry, slipping his hand into hers.
Brayden shuffled to the elevator at the end of the hall, finally finished with his inspection for the day. Not only was it torture sitting through the ultrasound with Hope while the doctor made subtle commentary that indicated to him she had no idea he’d just learned about the baby, but having to step into exam room after exam room—each oneidentical to the one that changed his life in an instant—made for a very long, very tiring, very unpleasant day.
The bright spot, if he chose to find one, was hearing that heartbeat. It had rocked his world. Whatever surrealist dream he’d been living in when he opened the door on Hope and her pregnant belly shattered when the ultrasound started. It immediately grounded him. Hope had chosen not to learn the baby’s gender, and he was glad for that. There were so few surprises in the world. But he supposed he’d already had enough of those for the day.For a lifetime, it felt like.
He was quiet the whole appointment, and when the doctor left to give them a moment with the profile of a little face on the machine, he had squeezed Hope’s hand, kissed her on the forehead, and strode into the hallway before he said something he couldn’t take back.
That had been three hours ago.
The elevator doors opened on the first floor. He wheeled his cart half full of expired extinguishers past the receptionist and out to his van.
Hope perched against the bumper waiting for him.
She jerked to standing when she saw him. He wheeled around her to the double doors in the back, opening them to unload while she watched him in silence. “I don’t want to yell at you,” he finally said through gritted teeth.
“So don’t? This isn’t how I wanted you to find out . . .”
He’d held it tight to get through the day, but now the leash on his pain snapped. He slammed the doors to the van shut and turned to face Hope fully. “Are you kidding me right now? What the actual fuck, Hope? Six months. Six months! Half the time we’ve been together you’ve been pregnant and lying to me!”
