by Whitley Cox
Mitch paced the waiting room of the hospital. Even though he was family, Violet had asked him to wait outside. Adam was in the exam room with her, and Mitch couldn’t decide how he felt about that.
“It’s my vagina, Mitchel,” she’d said through gritted teeth and pain on her face. “Get out!”
Adam escorted Mitch to the door. “She’s just scared. Once the exam is over, I’ll come out and let you know how she is. I’m sure she’ll want to see you once they’re done.”
There wasn’t anything Mitch could do, and that’s probably what bothered him the most. Once again, just like with Melissa and his father, he was helpless.
He raked his fingers through his hair and brought his hands down over his face. She just had to be all right. Their family couldn’t take any more loss. Violet was the glue that held them all together. She was their rock.
It felt like hours, but it was probably no more than fifteen minutes or so before the exam room door opened and a bewildered-looking Adam stepped out.
Mitch raced to him. “She okay?”
Adam nodded. Fatigue, worry and shock all paraded across his face. His blue eyes were wide and red-rimmed. “Violet’s pregnant.”
Mitch took a step back. “She’s what?”
Adam nodded, staring at the floor, his complexion getting paler by the second. “She’s pregnant. But she had an IUD, which was why there was so much cramping and bleeding.”
“Did she …” Mitch’s hand flew to his mouth before he could utter it.
Adam shook his head. “The baby is fine. They took out the IUD, did an ultrasound. Baby is about eight weeks. They’re sending her for blood work.”
Mitch blew out a long, slow breath.
His sister was pregnant.
Violet was pregnant.
Now that they knew that she and the baby were okay, his mind immediately went to Paige. How was she going to take this news? Who should be the one to tell her?
Adam must have picked up on his brainwave. “I think you should be the one to tell Paige,” he said, stifling a yawn. “I know I’m her ex and that it should come from me, but you two have a connection. She’ll respond better if you tell her.”
Mitch nodded, catching Adam’s yawn and doing one himself. The clock on the wall in the waiting room said it was nearly three o’clock in the morning. “How do you suggest I do it?” He scratched the back of his neck, worried that any way he told Paige could send her off the deep end. They also couldn’t keep it from her. She’d want to know if Violet was okay and what happened at the hospital.
Adam’s cheeks puffed out before he exhaled dramatically, wandering over to one off the worn tweed hospital chairs and taking a seat with a loud sigh. “I dunno, man. The fact that my new girlfriend of only a few months is pregnant with my baby, after Paige lost so many of ours—I honestly have no idea how she’s going to respond. She could be fine, or she could spiral.”
“I know. That’s my fear. I also worry that she’ll say she’s fine, but inside she’s a mess.”
Adam parted his legs and placed his elbows on his knees, hanging his head low. “Anthony’s death damn near killed her. I love her, but she’s unpredictable.”
“I love her too.”
Adam’s head snapped up, his blue eyes squinting as he studied Mitch’s face.
Mitch stood up straighter. “I know it’s early, and we haven’t said it to each other yet, but deep down I know. I feel it. I love her, and I’ll take care of it. I won’t let her spiral. I won’t let her go off the deep end.”
Slowly, Adam nodded. “Sometimes you just know.” Mitch couldn’t tell if the man was just too tired to smile or if he was unsure of Mitch and his intentions with Paige. Mitch hoped it was the former but didn’t really give a shit if it was the latter. Adam wasn’t Paige’s keeper, and Mitch didn’t need Adam’s permission for jack shit. He simply told him how he felt about Paige out of courtesy because they were friends.
Adam leaned back in the chair and pulled on the ends of his hair. “Good luck, man. I’m glad she has someone who understands her, someone she’s willing to let in. After Anthony died, she shut me out for good. She needs somebody like you who gets her.”
Phew.
Mitch stepped forward and thrust out his hand, Adam took it, and the two shook hands.
“Violet should be back from getting her blood work if you want to go in and see her,” Adam said, leaning back in the chair and shutting his eyes. “I don’t think they’ll keep her much longer. Once they know she and the baby are okay, they’ll send us home.”
Mitch nodded. “Okay, I’ll head in and see her, then go back and see Paige and Jayda” He slapped Adam’s knee and smiled. “Congratulations, man. Even though it’s a bit of a surprise, a baby is a blessing. We need more life, more people in the family. There’s been far too much death in the last few years.”
Adam didn’t bother to open his eyes but smiled and said thanks, then he yawned again. “I guess I better get used to this exhaustion again.”
Mitch chuckled as he made to take his leave and go find Violet before he headed home. “You’re not going to be sleeping through the night for a very long time, my friend. Best prepare yourself now.”
Mitch unlocked the door to his home, careful not to make too much noise in case everyone inside was asleep. He assumed Jayda was asleep, but he wasn’t sure where Paige had decided to sleep. He’d offered her his bed, but she said she’d be just as comfortable on the couch.
He tossed his key into the key bowl in the entryway and wandered down the hall toward the living room. Sure enough, there was Paige looking as breathtaking as ever, asleep under a thin knitted blanket.
He knew he shouldn’t, that this was neither the time nor the place, but he couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his camera from the bag over his shoulder and quickly took a few pictures of her looking as peaceful as he’d ever seen her. Her thick, dark hair splayed out over the throw pillow behind her like chocolate curls, her cheeks held a healthy pink flush, and her long lashes fanned out over her high cheekbones. She was spectacular.
But he was trigger-happy and hit the button one too many times.
She stirred, opening her eyes and stretching her lithe frame. “Violet’s pregnant,” she said, blinking a few times before she sat up.
Mitch’s mouth dropped open, and he made his way around the couch to face her. He sat on the coffee table and positioned her knees between his, taking her hands in his.
Paige’s eyebrows rose up in question. “She is, isn’t she?”
“How did you know?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Lucky guess. I’ve also been around the pregnancy block a few times. Is she okay?”
He blew out a breath, stood up and made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge. “You want one?”
She shook her head.
“Wine?”
“Sure.”
Moments later, he returned with a glass of white wine for Paige and a beer for him. “Violet and the baby are okay. She had an IUD, which is why she had cramps and bleeding.”
Paige nodded. “I’ve heard IUD pregnancies are rare. I’ve also heard that when they do happen, they don’t usually go to term. I’m glad they’re okay.” She took a sip of her wine.
Mitch’s head spun. This was not at all how he anticipated her reaction to the news. Was she really as okay as she seemed?
He tipped back his beer, letting the cool brew slide down his throat as he contemplated what to say next. It didn’t matter that it was nearly four o’clock in the morning and he probably wasn’t going to see more than an hour or so of sleep. Coffee was not what the moment called for.
He pulled on his chin before speaking. “You sure you’re okay? I know it can’t be easy hearing that Adam and his new girlfriend are having a baby.” He wanted to rest his hand on her thigh, ground her, reassure her.
She sipped her wine. “It’s hard, I’ll admit it. But I kind of figured he’d find somebody someday and
they’d have a child together. It happened sooner than I thought, but I’m also better than I thought I would be.” She reached for his hand. “And I have you to thank for that. I think it’d be a lot harder if I didn’t have someone in my life the way Adam has Violet.”
He snorted, squeezing her fingers and lifting the back of her hand to his lips. “You’re saying I’m a distraction?”
She kissed his cheek before yawning. “A wonderful distraction. And hey, thank you for being concerned about me, but I’ll be okay. I would never in a million years wish anybody to lose a baby, no matter how many I’ve lost. I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain and loss on my worst enemy. Not even Marcy Thibodeaux.” She rested her head on his shoulder.
He tilted his head and kissed her forehead.
“I never thought you would, baby. You’re not like that. But you are allowed to feel weird. You are allowed to feel hurt and sad.”
She nodded, not taking her head off his shoulder. It felt good to have her close again. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and they leaned back against the couch.
“Thank you. I do feel those things, but I’m also happy for them. Babies are wonderful, and Adam is an incredible father. That baby is so lucky.”
He kissed her head again. “Your strength never ceases to amaze me.”
She hummed a small dismissive thanks before changing the subject. “Hey, who painted that floral in your hallway?”
He grunted. “The pink flowers?”
“Yes, the peonies. They’re stunning.”
“My mother.”
She sat up, her brown eyes going wide, though the dark circles beneath them betrayed her fatigue. “Really? She painted that?”
“Yeah. Apparently, she used to paint a bunch before she had kids. Now she’s picking it up again, which Vi and I are really happy about. She was going a little loopy and hoardery after our dad passed. Rarely left the house, wasn’t bathing or eating. Stacks of boxes and crap everywhere. I was having dreams that she was going to get buried alive in a tower of boxes and we wouldn’t find her for days.”
Paige chuckled. “Oh my.”
“Yeah, it was bad for a while. I was sneaking boxes and garbage out when she wasn’t looking. Taking stuff to the thrift stores and recycling. She caught on, though.”
“And was she mad?”
“No. She seems to have turned a corner and is now starting to go through things herself. Vi is helping when she can. So am I. And the painting is a great sign. Seems like she’s finally regaining some of her spark and independence. That pink one was one of her first off the easel since she started again.”
Paige’s mouth twisted, and she looked off into the distance in thought, humming.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I’ve been looking for an artist to paint a mural on the one main wall in the restaurant. Nothing too over the top or gaudy. But it is called The Lilac and Lavender Bistro, so I should have some lilacs and sprigs of lavender scattered around. Do you think she’d be open to a commission?”
Would his mother be up for it? Would she be willing to step out of her comfort zone to follow her passion? She was cleaning the house up a bit, sorting through the junk and all the boxes. She seemed to be in a better headspace. Perhaps this would give her another nudge toward embracing her new life rather than mourning her old one and wallowing in grief.
He stroked his chin and took another drink of his beer. “I could certainly ask her.”
Paige’s smile was brighter than the sun. “Thank you. I would love to have a piece of your mother’s art featured in the restaurant.” She rested her head back on his shoulder and melted back into his body. “Her work is amazing.”
He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “You’re amazing.”
She yawned, which made him yawn for the umpteenth time. “I’m also exhausted.” She set her wine down on the side table, then put her head back on his shoulder and shut her eyes. “Wake me up when it’s time for school, okay?”
He chuckled as he put his beer down next to her wine and drew the knit blanket over both of them. “You got it.” He closed his heavy eyelids.
“Oh, and Mitch?”
He pried one eye open to find her looking at him with one open eye as well. “Hmm?”
“You’re amazing too.”
14
Paige opened the door to Mitch’s studio. It was two weeks before the opening of his new studio, and he’d asked her to come help him pick out which photos to blow up and frame for the walls.
She’d just finished dance class and was feeling incredible.
Violet had them working on some new dance numbers, and Paige absolutely loved the way the new music and tempo fit with how she was feeling at the moment. It was as if the dance routine had been made for her.
“There she is,” Mitch said, all smiles as he greeted her with a glass of wine and a kiss on the cheek. “How was dance class?”
She thanked him for the wine and wished he’d kissed her hard on the lips instead. “Dance was wonderful. Violet has us working on a new routine, and I’m so excited. She really has the best taste in music. Knows exactly how to pair it with the right kind of dance moves.”
Mitch chuckled and wrapped a warm arm around her waist, leading her deeper into the studio and around the corner. He had every light on and a big long table set out where eventually he would put his backdrops for portraits. “My sister lives to dance. I’m certain that baby is going to come out dancing.”
Paige took a sip of her wine and nodded, every muscle in her body relaxing into his embrace. She leaned back against his chest. “Probably.”
He stopped them in front of the table, but before Paige could look down at all the photos he had laid out, he spun her around to face him.
Her brows furrowed, and she gave him a quizzical look.
Mitch placed his hands on her shoulders, his lips set in a thin line.
Something was up.
“I asked you to come tonight to help me pick out some photos to put up on the wall for the opening of the studio.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“I’d also like these photos to stay on the walls for customers and admirers to see when they come in. In my opinion, these are the best of my work. These photos are why I fell in love with photography to begin with and why I continue to love what I do every day.”
Paige’s eyes searched his face for a clue. He was being cryptic, and it was beginning to freak her out.
“You’re the most talented photographer I’ve ever met,” she said. “I’m sure what you’ve picked is going to wow everyone. You’ll be booked for months, possibly years once this place opens and the public can see what you can do. The greater Seattle area isn’t going to know what hit it when Mitchel Benson Photography opens for business.”
His green eyes flared, and his lips hit hers hard, startling her and making her lose her footing.
But Mitch saved her.
He caught her and righted her before she stumbled into the table, his hands firmly on her shoulders, keeping her in place, keeping her safe.
“What’s going on, Mitch?” she asked. “Why are you being so weird?”
His eyes closed for a moment, and then he spun her around to face the table.
Paige gasped.
Over half of the photos were of her.
Dancing.
Smiling.
Laughing.
Sleeping.
Sitting with Mira.
Standing with Mira, each of them with a hummingbird on their finger.
There were several of her in the kitchen baking. Flour dusted her cheeks, and her hair was tucked up in a bun at the back of her head with only a few tendrils creeping out at her temples.
Then there were the shots of her posing on the chair during their little impromptu photo shoot that first night they’d kissed.
There were other photos of other people as well.
Jayda and a woman who Paige assu
med was Melissa. A few others with an older woman who looked a lot like Violet, so that was probably Mitch’s mother. One of an older gentleman with a similar nose and smile to Mitch—his father. There were some scenery and wedding shots as well, a few wildlife images and other various pictures of children dancing. There were stunning images of Violet and her former dance partner, Jean-Phillipe, dancing on stage, as well as a new one of her and Adam dancing at Art in the Park.
But there were more of her than all the others combined.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, and his chin fell to her shoulder. “I won’t put any of them up if you don’t want me to, but these are the best of my work.”
She reached out and made to touch one photo of her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open mid-laugh. She looked beautiful and carefree. Happy and comfortable in her own skin. The woman in the photo looked flawless.
Was that really how the rest of the world saw her?
Was that how Mitch saw her?
Or was it all lighting tricks and catching her at the right moment?
Smoke and mirrors.
She pulled her hand back before it landed on the photo.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “You can pick it up if you’d like.”
She did, bringing the black and white shot closer to her face for further inspection.
“That’s one of my favorites,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “Your smile is electric. The laugh lines around your eyes and mouth aren’t too deep, but they are there and they are genuine. Your head is tossed back showing off that long, sexy neck of yours.” He kissed said neck, and a shiver sprinted down her spine. “This is how I see you. This is who you are.”
She shook her head and put the photo back down on the table with the rest of them. “That’s not who I am.” She spun around in his arms to face him. “I don’t recognize that person.”
Mitch searched her eyes, worry in his own deep-green orbs. His hands on her arms fell to his sides, and he stepped away. She mourned his touch, mourned his warmth and the security and comfort she got from his closeness. He moved around to the other side of the table and picked up another photo. This one was of Melissa and Jayda. Jayda was sitting on her mother’s lap, and the two were quietly reading.
