Page 59 of Henhouse
Brayden palmed his face in shame. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’m messing with you . . . kind of. It is scary but it was helpful. Thank you.”
“Of course. I plan on getting this crib and mattress for the nursery too.” They’d tentatively agreed to joint custody, which would look mostly like Brayden spending his days off with Bug until Hope wasdone breastfeeding. Then he could have overnights too, but cribs were still needed for nap time, and besides, a nursery made it real.
“The nursery? At your place. You have a whole nursery.” Brayden heard the embarrassment in her voice, which was entirely unwarranted. It’s not like she couldn’t get a place with a separate room for the baby. Shechoseto stay here for the support of it all. Brayden didn’t want to think about what else she might need support on. That if he’d taken her back . . .
He interrupted his own train of thought. “Do you want to go get some clothes and diapers and things this weekend?”
“Uh, no that’s okay. Effie offered to go with me.”
“Okay.” Brayden tried not to let his disappointment show.What right did he have to hope she’d say yes to that?They still had weeks to get everything.
Hope didn’t want a shower, insisting that she abhorred attending the events, so why would she make other people suffer through hers? She was also adamant that she could afford what she needed without getting gifts from everyone.
They never talked about Hope’s money. It was always extra in Brayden’s mind. He’d be able to carry the bulk of their finances with or without the cushion of his trust fund, which was significantly smaller in size since his divorce. He and his lawyer had managed to convince Chloe to take a lump sum that was big enough to have her eyes rolling back in her head and forgetting about the allowance into perpetuity she had originally angled for. He was glad to see it go if it meant he needn’t have any more contact with her. But he was still so far in the green that it hadn’t occurred to him to ask Hope about how else they might split the cost of things. He assumed he’d handle it,but ifthey weren’t together would Hope want that?
He’d had enough heavy conversations lately and was very much enjoying doing something nice for the woman carrying his baby, so he silenced the string of questions and pivoted to something more lighthearted.
“Have you thought of any names yet?”
“A few, but I wanted to talk to you about them.”
His heart clenched. “I get a say?”
“Brayden, come on. Of course you do.” He shouldn’t have been surprised by her offense, but he still wasn’t sure how to navigate whatever lingered between them. He had to stay practical, smart, level-headed.
“I kind of like Elliot for a boy,” Brayden said.
Hope’s laugh chipped away at his wall. “You think it’s going to be a boy? A Thatcher boy?”
“It’s supposed to be a fifty-fifty kind of thing,” he teased, but it wasn’t lost on him that she thought the baby’s last name would be Thatcher, not Schilling. A whole new wave of heartache waited at the end of that road, so he pivoted again. “But yeah, if it’s a boy, I want Elliot on the table.”
“Okay,” Hope said, her depthless eyes pouring such love and affection all over him, he marveled at his ability to hold her gaze.
If he stayed much longer he might just forget that she’d kept this pregnancy a secret. Might forget she believed him capable of an affair. Might forget that she didn’t care enough to confront him when things looked bad. He might just forget he wasn’t supposed to be giving her his soul, so he tore his eyes from her angelic face and went to work on making the room his baby’s home. A home he wasn’t going to be a part of.
30
The air was damp and heavy with the threat of thunderstorms. If they landed they’d be fleeting, but they had a real talent for catching drivers with their roofs down and umbrella-less pedestrians off guard. The dark clouds on the horizon were far enough away to look like they could be swayed, brushed aside with a thought or a light breeze. Effie hoped they would, if only to ensure the crowd on its way to the Book and Bar that night wouldn’t get caught in the rain.
Effie wandered from the window in her silk robe, feeling the buzz of a pent-up storm beneath her skin. She’d been tamping down her anxieties in favor of good feelings with Theo and ignoring every other little hurt as of late. A snide comment from her mother, a clipped dismissal from Louisa, a wave of grief so sharp and sudden it felt like a sniper shot. They prickled to be released as she readied for the night. A night celebrating Hope. Only within these walls, in the privacy of her room would she let her envy be acknowledged. Thought of, not felt.That would be far too slippery a slope.
Effie stepped into a pair of dark-wash jeans that snuggled around her hips and cinched at her waist with a set of three gold buttons. They flared at the leg around her peep-toe leather heels. The peony-printed smocked top she pulled over her head boasted a sweetheart neckline that, after a few adjustments, hugged her chest most flatteringly. She pulled her curled hair into an easy ponytail that showed off the elegant curve of her neck and allowed her gold hoops to pop against her suntanned skin. Grabbing her go-to clutch, she gave herself a quick once-over in the floor length mirror hung on the backside of her door before stepping into the hallway.
She met her mother by the stairwell. “Are you going to the release?”
“I would, but I took over a weekend shift tomorrow so Anna could go away with her family for her birthday.”
“Oh, okay.”
Pamela checked her watch. “Isn’t it a little early for a midnight release?”
“Theo’s taking me to dinner first,” Effie said fighting the heat that tickled her spine.
“Someone is smitten,” her mother chirped before kissing Effie on the cheek. “Be careful there. You know how men are.” Pamela smoothed a curl back from Effie’s face, the picture of motherly affection, but Effie only felt the condescension. Condescension mixed with envy, and she was sick of it. Her anger battled its way up her throat, but Effie swallowed it down.
“I do want you to meet him,” Effie said instead. It was at least partially true.
