All I Want Is You (A Chester Farms Novella) (13 page)

Tom nodded. "That'll be good. You'll have someone close to help. I don't know about you, but Tasha was known for ripping all the heads off her babies when she was little. If it takes after her, you’ll have your hands full."

She slapped his shoulder. "Stop."

Tom leaned back and blocked his face. "I'm serious. I was really worried about this kid's chance of survival."

Patrick laughed and the front door opened, bringing in a family of four. She pushed out of her chair. "Be right back."

She stepped away and Tom's gaze was back on his. "Look, I'm going to be honest."

And here it came. At least he was supportive as far as his sister was concerned. "Tasha told me how it happened with the condom and all and that sucks. I mean, shit it happens and the thought of it happening to me is scaring the hell out of me right now." He touched his chest and shook his head. "I'm no saint. Stuff like that is only supposed to happen to friends of friends who knew somebody."

That wasn't the ass jumping Patrick expected. While he liked what he saw so far, he more than respected him now. "Tell me about it."

"She said you mentioned marriage?"

He nodded. "I did. I want to take care of her. I have good insurance. A house. It's a rental, but it's two bedrooms and is in good shape."

Tom winced. "Yeah, I saw her apartment in the back. I don't know a ton about babies, but I dated a girl with a kid once and there's stuff everywhere. And that room ain't big enough for a crib."

"A lot has happened the last few weeks and it's just a lot at once. Maybe after a couple months she'll be more relaxed and open to the idea of marraige. We're a family now, and I think we should be one together."

Tom looked at him. "Just, don't screw up. No point marrying her and making things worse down the road if you don't love her. Since you two have only been together six weeks or so, you don't love her."

He didn't? He didn't know. It seemed longer than that. He didn't know a lot, but every time he looked at her, his heart got away from him. That was love, wasn't it? He blinked and faced Tom. He could circle back to those thoughts later. "I get what you're saying."

Tom pushed him a card his way. “And my sister already said no, but if things get bad, financially, you call me. I can transfer money over in a few minutes. I’m not going to leave my baby sister out to dry. You need diapers or whatever, I’ll help. She doesn’t even have to know. I can’t be here with her, but I want to help how I can.”

Patrick took the card, even though he never intended to use it for that. “Thanks, but I think we’ll be okay. Better than what she thinks. I already picked up a second job to work through the night to put money back for when the baby gets here.”

"Good, now laugh because my sister is on her way over here and I don't want her to know I'm getting in her business more than she thinks."

Patrick didn't ask and just chuckled. He could appreciate that. She sat and the short hairs around her face curled in by her eyes. Her ponytail lay against her shoulder and she laughed at something her brother said.

Did he love her? He didn't know, but he sure as hell liked the idea of it. Tom stayed a little while longer and it gave Patrick a chance to see them together and to wonder how they grew up. They seemed close, but also seemed to respect distance between each other. At least they cared about what was going on in each other's life.

It was more than what he had with his kid sister, but then she'd never been one to share too much. When he'd moved out, he'd tried keeping in contact and asked her to visit. She just wouldn't take him up on the offer. A smile. A pat on the back with a good job was about all they ever had. It was lukewarm in the exact same way his parents interacted.

He glanced to Tasha and the idea of ten years from now sprang into his head. He wouldn't be that way with her. Keeping at arm's length wasn't an option now and it wasn't going to be one then either.

Her brother stood from the table and stretched. "Thanks for the ice cream, Sis."

She hugged him as she walked with him to the door. "I'm glad you came."

"You bet. Keep me updated. Text me a picture of the baby in your belly when you get one."

"The sonogram?"

"Sounds right." He looked to Patrick and held out his hand. "Good to meet you."

"You too."

And with little more than that, Tom went out the door and headed for a little four door car parked along the corner that Patrick could only assume was a rental. Tasha waited by the door and watched as Tom's car headed east down the road and disappeared around the corner. Her weight fell back in her heels and she hugged herself, rubbing her arms. "I wish he could stay longer. He's always on the go like that."

"Any chance he'll be back soon after the new year?"

She shook her head. "No. He's going to Arizona next. His life seems to be a big whirlwind. He’s hard to keep up with. The few times I get to see him, it's like we've never been apart, but in between we're not in much contact. I never know what time zone he's in and he always sounds like he's in a rush."

He rubbed her arms and brought her against his chest. "I'm sorry."

She lifted her shoulder. "It's okay. I'll be fine. I think half these emotions are the baby's fault."

He laughed even though he didn't buy a word of it. "I go out to my parents on Christmas Eve. I'd love to have you go with me."

She shook her head. "I don't want to get in the middle of your family's traditions."

He laughed. Traditions in his family. That was funny. "We don't do much. Just get together for a couple hours. Mom and Dad both came from big families. They said there's too much hustling around the holidays, so they always keep it low key. Besides, they'll want to meet you."

She bit her lip. "I don't know. Do you think that's the best time to drop the bomb?"

He held her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. "It's not a bomb. And they'll be fine. Shocked at first, but fine."

She looked down. "I don't know."

"Would it make you feel better if I called them ahead and let them know? They'll have time to get used to the news before you get there."

"That sounds a lot better, but Christmas is just supposed to be special and with your family." Water filled her eyes. "I don't want to interrupt."

"I think this baby makes you part of this family now. Actually, this is our family too—mine and yours and this baby. What is Christmas usually like for you?"

"Before Tommy left were my favorite times. We'd get up that morning. I helped make breakfast with mom. I was little and just set the table, but it felt like my job was important. We ate, then unwrapped. Tommy and I would show each other the toys and stuff and play with it all for a few hours. Mom and Dad would sit around, watching Christmas specials on TV. That evening, we'd all have some hot chocolate in our pajama's and roast marshmallows over the fire with another movie on in the background." Tears started in her eyes and she swept under them.

That sounded like a Christmas movie to him. An all-day thing where they were together and had certain things planned throughout the day. "I want to do that with you."

"You have your family to see. I don't want to interfere."

"That's Christmas Eve and it's just a couple hours. It's no big deal and nothing like you described. Actually, you know what I've always wanted to do?"

She shook her head.

"After I leave my parents on Christmas Eve, I've always wanted to drive around and see some lights. I never could get anyone to go with me and it just didn't seem worth if I didn't have someone with me to talk about them. Will you do that with me?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "I'd really like that."

"We can go back to my place after and cook breakfast the next morning and enjoy the day. What did y'all normally have?"

"Pancakes."

His stomach rumbled. "I love pancakes."

She stared at him. The tears in her eyes were gone and the corners of her lips were starting to lift. "Since I eat waffles all the time though, I'd rather have biscuits and gravy."

"Even better."

Chapter Twelve

Tasha stepped in his living room and kicked her shoes off by the door. Patrick was right behind her, pulling her coat off her shoulders. So random and weird, but it was hard to ignore that sweet zing that went through her as he lowered it off and hung it for her in the coat closet. She'd never seen her dad do that. Course, she'd never seen her dad reach across the front seats of the car to hold her mom's hand, but Patrick did exactly that tonight while he drove around a few neighborhoods looking for lights between his parents' house and here.

And it wasn’t just holding hands in private either. As a cold slice of fear had bolted through her gut while he introduced her to his parents, he'd put his arm over her shoulders and held her close. That one simple touch had melted the ice in her. His parents were great, just like he said. His mom even talked to her about what to expect soon. She put her hand to her stomach. Things like a little knot appearing one day. And to not forget to rub stretch mark cream over her belly and her butt, thighs and boobs because all those parts grow, too.

It wasn't the Christmas she was used to having, but it'd been nice. There'd been a beautiful tree and ham. Gifts. His mom even had one for her—a pair of Patrick's shoes from when he was an infant. It was all so sweet and charming.

"Oh no." Patrick leaned over her.

She laughed and her eyes were itching again. "I can't help it!"

"It was just a pair of shoes that I probably hated."

"Stop." It wasn't just a pair of shoes. It wasn't even that it was Patrick's shoes specifically. It was that his mom cared and she could have done nothing but given her a handshake, but his mom did more. One thoughtful thing had made Tasha welcome in his family. "You were right and your parents were great. I'm glad you talked me into going."

He rubbed her arms. "You're supposed to be with friends and family on Christmas—even for just a little while. We don't have a lot here and I figured you would want that holiday feeling, even if it was different than you're used to."

"Thank you." Somehow he seemed to know her better than anyone at times. He was right. There was nothing at his house to show it was Christmas, but she was going to make the most of it. This was just their first one together and there would be more. Regardless of what they might be next year or five Christmas’s from now, because of the baby they'd always be together somehow or another over the holidays. She didn't care if she had to rip a bush up from a neighbor's yard, something to show Christmas was going in this house tonight. "I want something Christmas’y in here."

"You're in luck. I got something from Mom to lighten this place up." A big grin crossed his face and he reached in his coat pocket and came out with two red stockings. "Seemed like we needed something so I got these from Mom."

Tears were in her eyes again and she stroked her thumb over the smooth, red velvet. "Perfect."

"They were extras from some church party decorations or something. She had a bunch of them and told me to get what I wanted." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a third one. "I figure we'll need this one next year."

She whimpered and tried sucking it up, but she couldn't help it.

Patrick held the third sock back and gave her frown. "I'm taking this back if you start crying. You should be about out of the waterworks by now."

Her jaw shook and eyes watered to the point she really couldn't see his amusement anymore. It was just such a pretty stocking. Red trimmed with white in a set of three. "I'm trying! Don't be so thoughtful and sweet if you don't want me to cry."

"I'll do my best to be meaner from now on." Then he went and handed her the third sock.

She laid them over one of the shelves and dried her eyes. "Do you have a marker?"

He fetched one from the kitchen and she wrote her name across the broad, white piece of the stocking. Then did one for his and left the third one blank. "Where are we hanging them?"

He glanced around the living room and pointed at the self where she'd written on them. "What about there?"

They had a loop for a hook. If they had something heavy, that would work. "I need a book or something to hold them."

He glanced around and fished a couple nails out of a jar and grabbed a hammer. "We can use this."

He beat the nails in just enough to hold them and she hung the socks. This moment happening years from now went through her head. There'd be a kid hanging these. Somewhere to the side would be a toddler sitting by the biggest tree that would fit in the corner with as many ornaments she could cram on each branch. Oh, she liked that idea.

Patrick checked his watch. "I was going to suggest getting some sleep, but it's after midnight and it’s officially Christmas now."

"Are you ready for breakfast?"

He rubbed his stomach and shook his head. "I'm still full from Mom's, but I got you something and I don't want to wait."