Page 66 of Headstrong Like Us
I come over and hoist the furry brown bear. The baby reaches for the toy.Success.
He smacks the thing right out of my hand.
Never mind.
Now that I’m closer, he outstretches his tiny fingers towards me. Pleading to be in my clutch. His sparkling crystal-blue eyes are oceanic pools that call out and summon me.
I try to resist. “You’re okay,” I tell him. “Farrow has you.”
He’s bawling.
Farrow narrows his eyes on him. “Just you wait, little man. I’m going to make you love me.”
It’s weird hearing those words out loud.
For one, everyone is drawn to Farrow. He’s the kind of guy who’s so effortlessly cool that people either want to be his best friend or they’re jealous of his mere existence. He might be selective about friendships and put people at arm’s length, but that just adds to his allure.
For another, I’ve never seen Farrow actively work that hard for someone’s affections other than my own, and he’d tell you he didn’t have to do much.
Even though he’s without a doubt more obsessed with me.
Farrow sways and whispers in the baby’s ear. Tears slowing to a trickle. “About his name.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “I have a suggestion.”
“You do?”
He drops his voice to a hushed octave for the baby’s sake. “I don’t have many memories of my mom. He might not either.”
I nod, stepping closer while Farrow is quiet.
“I figure there’s a way we can honor her.” He tilts his head. “Ripley?”
Ripley.
His mom’s surname.
That’s not what barrels through me. Farrow is deadly aware that we have this kid because Tina Ripley bailed on him. She was in the hospital after a meth overdose. Most people would be furious at her. Villainize her.
Farrow Keene wants to honor her.
And yeah, that squeezes the organ behind my ribcage. It sears my eyes with a kind of love that keeps pummeling me.
Because my parents are addicts, and I understand, well and good, that addiction is a disease. It’s not a fucking choice—and this baby’s mom isn’t a villain for what she did. She just wasn’t ready to be a mom, and she wasn’t as lucky as my parents, who had money and resources and a support system in place.
“I love it.” My words come out in a choke. “Sorry.” I shake my head and swerve away from him. Quickly, Farrow seizes my wrist to stop me, cradling the baby to his body with one hand.
“You don’t need to be sorry, wolf scout.” He reaches up and wipes at the corner of my wet eye. “I love it, too.”
I swallow hard and look at the baby. He scrunches his nose and face and coos at me. “Ripley,” I say into a smile. “It fits him.”
He calms down, but not even a minute later, he’s blubbering all over again.
Farrow nods to my hand. “The panda.”
I raise the stuffed panda, and Ripley lets out a terrifiedscreech.“Alright, alright.” I throw it across the room. “It’s gone.”
Ripley quiets for point-two seconds.
Farrow searches my face. “We haven’t talked about Ripley’s family history.”
