For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2)
Page 22
"What do you say, sweetheart?" I ask, watching her face for clues to her thoughts.
She nibbles on her lip for a moment then gives me a sweet smile. One of those smiles that only I ever see because it’s not Tammy the rock star manager or Tammy the warrior. It’s Tammy my wife.
"I think I’m ready," she says quietly.
"Me too," I answer.
Jenny bounces up and down in her seat. "Oh my God! This is so exciting! You’re going to do it now, right? I mean, can we see too?" she asks hopefully.
"Oh, what the hell," Tammy says, reaching into her purse and extracting her phone. In a minute, she’s got the browser opened up and she’s logging in to our doctor’s office’s patient portal.
I see Mike and Colin whispering then shaking hands on the far side of the table. "Are you two dicks betting on my kid?" I ask, shaking my head.
Colin looks chagrined.
Mike just grins at me. "A thousand big ones, dude. Watch me take his ass."
"Fuck off," Colin bitches as he elbows Mike.
Just then, Tammy gasps, and I look over to see her covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I lean down and look at her phone.
There, before my eyes, is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed. It’s an image in black and white and shades of gray, but it’s still very obviously a baby. I can see his whole form—his big, round head and his tiny arms and legs. His nose, his fingers, his—
"Tam? Is that what I think it is?" I ask, a smile beginning to work its way across the entire width of my face.
Her eyes snap up to mine. "You’re such an ass, Walsh Clark," she huffs at me.
I laugh as I gather her in my arms and kiss her temple.
Mike hoots from across the table. "It’s Little Dude? A boy? Hah! I knew it!"
Colin grumbles and starts pulling out his wallet. Jenny reaches across the table and pats his hand then gives Mike a dirty look.
"Oh, baby," I whisper in Tammy’s ear. "He’s beautiful. Just look at him. He’s absolutely perfect."
She nods her head, a few of those tears finally falling down her soft cheeks. "He is, isn’t he? Just kind of perfect."
"Now we have to think of a name."
"I have an idea for one already," she says. "If you like it, of course."
"What is it?"
"Pax," she says quietly. "It means peace, and I thought, after everything we’ve been through, this peace we’ve found, well… It doesn’t hurt to remind ourselves of how lucky we are to have it."
I roll the name over in my mind for a moment. "Pax Clark. I like it, sweetheart. I like it a lot."
"You pick the middle name," she instructs me, gazing at the picture on her phone again, love beaming from her face.
It doesn’t take me but a moment before it flashes into my mind, the name I want. It represents selflessness and steadfastness—the kind of man I’d like my son to become someday, the kind of man I’m striving to become myself.
"How about Silva? Pax Silva Clark?"
She looks at me then, understanding in her face. She knows what Ronny and his guidance have meant to me all these months. "I love it," she tells me. "And thank you for not picking Ronald."
I laugh, and we pass the phone around for everyone to look at the picture of little Pax. Mike makes crude remarks about Pax’s penis size. Jenny smiles and tells us how beautiful he is. Colin smiles sadly as he hands the phone back to Tammy, leading me to wonder again what’s happened to my happy, peaceful brother.
"By the way," Tammy says going into business mode as she stows the phone in her purse. "Mel finally downloaded those photos from Vegas. You have to make sure to get them to your mom. She’s been calling me every two days asking about it." She shakes her head. "I don’t know why we ever thought it would be a good idea to get married without our parents there."
"I’m going to head to the hotel," Colin says, standing up and stretching. "I want to get an early start in the morning."
"You in a hurry to get back to Mrs. Stallworth’s?" I ask, smirking.
"Hey, since you and Tam left town, I’m all she’s got. The lawn needs to be cut, and that asshole son of hers won’t come clean out the gutters, so I’m going to have to do that too."
"Wait until next weekend and I’ll come help out with the gutters," I tell him. "We’re spending this week in Portland, but we’ll stay here in Dallas over the weekend, after the shows."
"Okay. Sounds good, man," he replies, waving goodnight to everyone.
"So…" I turn to my gorgeous wife. "You ready to head home?"
"Yes," she says as she stands up and adjusts her ever-expanding tummy. She’s midway in the pregnancy and has a cute but noticeable bump. With her height, she’ll never look like a roly poly, but babies in my family are big, so I know she’s not getting away with some little six-and-a-half pounder. Pax is going to be a brute.
"You two good?" I ask Mike and Jenny.
"Yeah, man. They loaded up the equipment in the trailer already, so we’ll just haul it back to the hotel in a few. I’m getting sick of staying at the Hilton every weekend though. Maybe I ought to get a place in Dallas like you two," he adds.
"Do it, man. The price of real estate here is so cheap you can buy yourself a fucking castle with a moat and a recording studio in the basement for what you’d pay for a one-bedroom in downtown Portland."
Mike looks over at Jenny, who’s trying very hard not to participate in the conversation. "I’m liking Texas a lot, you know? I might just do that." He nudges her in the arm. "You want to go look at real estate with me tomorrow?"
Before I can hear her answer, my phone rings and I see Joss’s name flash on the screen. I show it to Tammy before I click ‘answer’ and we wave at Mike and Jenny then start walking to the back door of the bar. Tammy holds one of my hands while the phone’s in my other.
"Hey, man, what’s up?" I ask my best friend.
"You gotta help me out," he says, panic infusing his voice.
"All right. What’s the problem?"
"It’s Mrs. DiLorenzo—our mother-in-law. She likes you better than me and I know she’ll listen if you explain it to her."
"Explain what?"
"About the pie."
I laugh, and Tammy raises an eyebrow at me as I let go of her hand to unlock the car doors. I help her in and shut her door before walking up and leaning against the front bumper of her new Volvo SUV. It’s got the highest safety rating of any SUV on the road. So I got her one in each city—Dallas and Portland. I want Tammy and Pax to be safe.
"So she won’t let you have pie?"
"No," Joss growls in frustration. "She’s insisting that cake is traditional and that I can have lemon cake if I have to—as a side cake, mind you. Not even the main cake, which has to be white. Plain old white cake, dude. Who the hell wants to eat that shit?"
Joss Jamison loves lemon meringue pie more than anything in this world with the possible—note I say possible—exception of his fiancée.
"What do you expect me to do about it? Call up Darlene and tell her she has to let you have lemon meringue pie at your own wedding? Because why? Maybe because you’re nearly thirty years old, you’re paying for the wedding, and if you want to have lemon meringue pie your small Italian-American mother-in-law can’t stop you?"
If we were Facetiming this call, I know I’d be able to see the great Joss Jamison pouting.
"I do expect you to call up Mrs. D. and tell her to let me have the pie because this is all your fault. If you and Tammy hadn’t run off to Vegas, Mel’s wedding wouldn’t be the only one Mrs. D. ever gets to have and then there wouldn’t be all this pressure on me to conform to her every wish and whim."
I roll my eyes though he can’t see me. "Fine, I’ll talk to her about the pie. Now, before we hang up, are you coming to the show next weekend?"
"Yep. We got our flight scheduled. We’ll be there at two on Friday."
"Good. I want you to see what you can find out from Col
in. Something’s going on with him and he won’t fess up."
"Okay. To do with Marsha, I assume?"
"I’m sure."
"All right. It’s a deal. Pie for the scoop on Marsha."
"Deal, man. I’ll see you next week."
"Take care, brotha’."
We hang up the phone, and I hop in the car with Tammy. I lean over and nuzzle her neck.
"Mmm. What did Joss want?"
"Something about lemon pie, wedding cake, and your mother."
"Oh God," she whines.
"Not to worry, sweetheart. I’ve got it under control."
"I love hearing you say that," she tells me.
"And I love you, Mrs. Clark. More than you’ll ever know."
Read other books by Selena Laurence
The Rope A Dream Foundation
When I started writing about a ranch, I quickly realized I was going to need some help. I don’t generally get too far into the details of a world I know nothing about, but I do want to sketch a picture that’s relatively accurate. So far, in every book I’ve written I’ve needed a “technical advisor” to help me create these sketches of worlds I’m not so familiar with.
The problem was, I didn’t know any ranchers. However, Facebook being what it is, I posted a cry for help, and within an hour one of my Street Team members, the lovely Kay B., had introduced me to a close family friend, Hunter Grayson. Hunter is a charming young man who knows all about ranching and cattle and was kind enough to give me an evening via chat while I asked a lot of what were probably really dumb questions. Any errors in this book that relate to the ranching industry are entirely my fault, as he gave me flawless information.
Hunter is also the creator of a very special organization called The Rope A Dream Foundation. It’s a non-profit created in memory of Hunter’s late roping partner Jordan Ellis. The Rope A Dream Foundation raises money to support kids who want to be active in some sort extracurricular activity but whose parents can't afford to place that in their budget. Hunter doesn’t ever want money to be the reason a kid can’t at have a chance at chasing their dreams.
If you find it in your heart and your budget to give a few dollars to a worthy organization this year, I’d urge you to take a look at The Rope A Dream Foundation. Their address is PO Box 254 Watkinsville, Ga. 30677.
Sometimes I think this is the hardest part of writing a book. You always want to make sure to thank everyone properly, but you don't want it to take up fifty pages. So, here it goes:
First and foremost for Selene and Heather at The REAL Housewives of Romance blog. They've been readers, supporters, advisors, and friends almost since I started this journey, and I'm so freaking attached to them now that I'm not sure I could put out a book without them. In addition, Selene has taken the job as my publicist, and I couldn't have asked for a more perfect fit. It is a daily joy to have her in my corner. Also, to Brandi at Sugar and Spice Book Reviews. Her insightful and candid assessments of my work are a rare find, and I know how very lucky I am to be the beneficiary of her advice.
To my street team, Selena's Sentries. I'd name them all, but it would take too long. You know who you are ladies, and you know I adore and cherish each one of you.
To Mickey Reed, my editor, who is not only the person who polishes my work, but she also tells the world about it, backs it 100% every time, and is a fabulous friend I love as well.
To Michele at Devilishly Delicious Book Reviews, who does odd jobs for me but never thinks they're odd and is eternally cheerful, organized and ready to help.
To everyone who has read one of my books, written a review, or sent me a message. I just can't thank you enough. There aren't words—even for a writer. You make the journey worthwhile every single time.
Selena Laurence lives in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains and spends a hell of a lot of time at soccer games, on her laptop, and reading. She requires a Mocha Latte every day to function, keeps a goldendoodle at her feet most of the time, and has more kids than she knows what to do with. Her husband, Mr. Laurence, spends as much time as he can at the office and the gym in order to avoid the kids, the dog, the laptop and the reading, but he always shows up for the soccer games, and he makes a mean Mocha Latte.
Selena loves to hear from readers. Contact her at any of the links below!
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Copyright 2014 © Selena Laurence All rights reserved.
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ISBN-13: 978-0-9895391-7-3
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, products, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase and read only authorized editions.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Books by Selena Laurence
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
The Rope A Dream Foundation
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Book Designer
Copyright Notice