Page 32 of Tulips and Lost Time

Not now.

Not tonight.

“Daddy wanted to save every penny for you, Bill. For our family. Because I didn’t want that to be a stressor that would later make me a shitty dad. But in the end…” I draw a long, filling breath that expands my lungs and stretches them to their limit. Then I exhale again and edge my way onto the bed, careful not to compress the mattress too suddenly and have the baby roll toward me. “In the end, my stupid need to control it all was the reason we ended up in this mess.”

Carefully, I lie on my side, my back to the massive picture window that overlooks our front yard, and scooping my hand under Billy’s too-small body, I drag her closer until she nestles against my chest.

“Now it’s just me and you, beautiful. Not so long ago, you would have been sleeping with your back against your brother’s. Your little limbs, almost tangled. I bet you miss them, huh?” A heavy lump of nerves stops in my throat, balling in my windpipe and making it hard to breathe. “You’ve known a life of being inside your mom. Sleeping beside your brother. And now you’re out here, in this crappy world where it’s never really the right temperature and clothes itch our skin.”

Swallowing, I reach over the baby and snag my phone.

The battery is already in the red. My screen, littered with messages from Ang. From Laine. Scotch and Sammy. Meg. Alex and Jules. Mitch and Nadia. Everyone who exists within this world Kari and I built together reaches out, hoping to bring me comfort. To ease the guilt that washes through my stomach every time I have a single second to think.

They’re my friends. My family.

But they’re outsiders.

And they’re not who I want tonight while I snuggle in beside my sweet baby girl.

Ignoring the countless texts and missed calls, I jump to my messages and find Kari’s name instead. I stare at our conversation history; the, I love yous.

The, I miss yous.

The, what time will you be homes? And, can you pick up Ben and Jerry’s on the way?

There’s a lifetime of us in these messages, decades of history already lived.

And there are way too fucking many, are you picking up another shift, Luc? Again? Please come home.

I failed my wife.

I failed my family.

With shaking fingers, I tap out a pathetic, Billy and I miss you, Mommy. Sleep well.

9

LUC

PLAYING WITH FIRE NEVER FELT SO FORBIDDEN

“Hey, Luca!”

I glance up from my focus on my shoes, my eyes on my feet only. My entire soul refusing me the chance to screw with the friendship I have with Marcus Macchio. But Kari’s tinkling, playful voice is becoming a daily occurrence that haunts me. Her tormenting smile, a constant black mark on my life.

Not because I don’t love seeing it.

But because I think she gets off on tempting me with it.

I grit my teeth and tilt my head up to catch sight of Kari at the bowl of the halfpipe, her knees already scuffed, her cheeks rosy and bright. Her hair is a frizzed mess, exploding from a single, struggling hair elastic.

Worst of all, she wears itty bitty shorts and an oversized Van Halen T-shirt.

“Marcus is working at the club this evening,” she calls out. Her lips curl higher, taunting and devious, as my eyes scan her bare legs. “Scotch isn’t here. Ang is at the garage. The twins and Britt are somewhere else.” She places her foot on the tail of her board and smirks. “Guess that just leaves me and you.”

Hence, my eyes on my fucking feet!

“Luuuuuca?” she teases. “Did you hear me?”

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