Page 30 of War Hope
15
Finn
Patrick'sasleepin my arms and I can't stoplooking at him.I never cared much about holding babiesbeforeI hadLydia—actually, I wouldn’t hold them because they looked like they’d break too easily, but damn, did I love to hold her. That is afeeling like nothing else in the world—cradling a tiny little person in your arms, knowing you helped create it, knowing that they will depend on you to help them grow and learn and survive.I stare down athim. Brandon neverknewwhat thatfeltlike. I'll neverknowwhat it feels like again. Tears threaten my eyes, but I fight them back.
"You're a baby whisperer,” Hope sits next to me on the sofa. “I swear.I watchedhimonce whenPoppywas showering andhe wouldn't stop wailing. I tried everything....he hasn't criedonce with you.You'dthink you knew what you were doing,"Hope says witha smile.Andthething is, I do know whatI'm doing but noone knowsthat. Lydia isa secretI keep because it's too painful, tooshamefulfor me todiscloseto anyone.Brandondidn't even know, and he is theclosest thing I've hadto abest friendsince before the war.
There'saknock on thedoorand Partick’s eyes pop wide.
“Oh shit, I hope that’s Poppy.” Hoperushestoopenthe door, and I swallow,attempting topreparemyself for the emotions seeing Poppy is going to have. I shoveit all downintothat dark place, burying it alive.The doorswingsopenandPoppy walks in.She looksthinnerthan I remember...and tired.She glances atPatrick bundled up in my arms and smiles.
"You look like a natural, Finn," she says as she goes to take him from me. "Thanks for watching him."
"Hey,” Hope says, “you look at him like he did all the work.”
Poppy laughs. "Come here, Paddy. Mommy missed you." She kisses him on his chubby cheek and he makes that little raspberry noise babies are pros at making. I want to hug her, but I don't know if I should.
"How have you been, Poppy?" I ask.
Nodding, she adjustsPatrick on her hip and he grabs at her long brown hair. "Good.We'vebeen good, haven't we?" She glances at the baby and he squeals, kicking his fat legs out. I feel like a shitty friend to Brandon for not checking in on her, but I just couldn't. What do you say to someone who has literally lost everything?Hope was there for her...I didn't want to harass her when all she probably wanted was to be left alone. I don't know, maybe I should have.
"He's cute," I say, tickling the bottom of his foot.
"Thanks." A soft smile shapes her lips and she stares off. For a moment, it's like she gets lost in a memory. "Well, we've got to be going. It's bath night and already close to bedtime."
"Dear god, Poppy. You have that baby on a tighter schedule than the freaking Queen."
Poppy rollsher eyes and grabs the diaper bag from the floor. "Thank you two again." She turns and her gaze lands on me. "It was good to see you, Finn."
"You too, Poppy. Let me uh...let me know if you need anything. You know any help around the flat or anything."
"Thanks." And with that, she leaves.
"She's a good mum, you know?" Hope sighs as she falls back onto the couch. "But Jesus, babies are a lot of work. I don’t know that I'd ever want one of my own, I'd forget about it or something. I can't even keep a goldfish alive...you want kids?"My heart pounds a little harder than it should. I stare at Hope, my fingers drawing into tight fists."I mean, I just imagine they suck the life rightouttayou, but you'd be a good dad, I think. All surly and protective and baby whispering-like." She laughs, completely unaware of how much that comment is like a sharp-fucking-dagger ripping right through my heart.A good dad.I drop my gaze to the floor and fidget with my hands. Such a good dad that what was best for my baby girl was for me to walk right out of her life and let her forget I exist. Such a good dad that I can't see her even if I want to. I could have been a good father, I would have been a good father. I just wasn't ready—I hadn't let go of the demons constantly riding my back. I hadn't learned how to deal with my anger and anxieties and all that shit I'll neverunseethat haunts me day in and day out.But I am trying… "You, uh, you okay there,Finnley?" Hope asks, leaning into my line of vision.
Ajoltof adrenaline shoots through me swift and hard. I feel it pulse through my veins, my jugular and it sends a heat sweeping down to my fingertips. I focus on the wall. On my breaths. In and out. And I nod.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"So, what do we want for dinner?Chinese?"
Her hand landson my shoulder andI flinch away from her touch, immediately standing and pacing in front of the couch. What the fuck are we doing? I want her here and I shouldn't, fuck, I beat one out to the thought of her the other night. And I'm not a fucking idiot, friends or not, there's something between us, some need or want or...I don't know...maybe just something that seems familiar because there is something to Hope McGrath that feels all too familiar. Broken people, fucked up people—we have thisunspokenunderstanding and maybe that's what it is with us. We're both fucked up and have secrets we hide. Silence is my buffer and I think maybe, just maybe that loud ass mouth of hers is her mask she prances around behind.
"Hope, youshouldgo," I say, not leaving room in my tone for her to misunderstand my request.
Her green eyesnarrow before they shoot down to the floor. "Okay."
And for thefirst time since I've met Hope, she actually leaves without a single word, the door closing quietly behind her. No one knows the storm that is constantly brewinginside of me. Hope has no idea what kind of messed up shit she'd be in for with me. Kiera couldn’t handle it and Hope sure doesn't even need to try to. There is no point. That's why I keep to myself, to my routine because it makes me feel safe. I can't lose control because the second I do, that storm becomes unbridled. Feelings get out of check. And I don't want to go down that road again. I can't...And the thing is, I think I already care too much about Hope McGrath.
