Page 78 of Headstrong Like Us
“Yeah, we have to wait. They shouldn’t be much longer.” I have faith they’ll get here tonight. I texted my mom and reminded her about the importance of this dinner. She said they’d both make it. I screw the cap on the bottle and glance tensely at the oven clock.
They’ll be here.
At the breakfast table, Farrow cradles the chubby-cheeked baby and murmurs in his ear. Helping him relax. I hang onto the sight for an extra second or five. He’s a good dad—I knew he would be.
Farrow is patient. Chill, even with shrill piercing cries. Protective and so goddamn caring. He cared about Ripley before he was even in our arms.
I pass Farrow the bottle, our fingers brushing, eyes fastening, and my chest rises as this moment takes hold and settles in.We’re raising a child together.
Our child?
Are we allowed to call himours…? I don’t know, but Christ, a strong feeling burrows into my body.
Luna sits across from Farrow and slurps an energy drink as she says, “We may be waiting for a solid century then. Buckle up for the hunger.”
Xander groans and reopens the drawer. My brother is fast, grabbing a spoon.
I head back. “Summers—”
“One bite.” Xander tries to lean for the bowl, but I block him. “Come on, Moffy. It smells so good. Take it as a compliment.”
I glance to Farrow. Conflicted on what I should do. Ripley is more content in his hands, sucking on the bottle that Farrow props to his lips.
“We could start dinner,” Farrow suggests. “I don’t think Lily would mind if she misses a few minutes.”
“Yes,thank you.” Xander waves a hand at my fiancé. “Moffy, you should always listen to Farrow.”
I narrow my eyes at my little brother. “Let’s not go that far.”
Farrow’s smile spreads gradually and enormously. Reaching cheek-to-cheek.
Iconic.
To be clear, that’s not my assessment.Iconicis what the media and fans have been calling his know-it-all smile.
In my brain, that smile is more iconic for aggravating me.
“Take the food to the table,” I tell Xander. “And for Christ’s sake, don’t eat it on the way.”
Walking to the door, he mumbles something about3/4ths Loren Hale.Sometimes I am like my dad, and that notion usually warms me. But right now, any mention of him reminds me that he’s not here. My muscles constrict.
I’m more rigid than five minutes ago.
Ripley locks eyes with me and pries his mouth off the bottle. He blubbers like he wants to say,come hold me.He squirms against Farrow’s chest, reaching out for me.
I stay still.
My heart clenches. I don’t fully get why he’s still so attached to me over everyone. And especially over Farrow.
Between the two of us, I’m stiff. Unbending. Not that comfortable to embrace. Whereas Farrow exudes the kind of serenity you want to crawl into. His hands are strong but so careful, wielding power with responsibility and extreme care.
“You don’t want me, Rip,” I tell him and then gesture to Farrow. “He’s the one with all the nutrients you need to grow big and strong.”
Ripley scrunches his nose like I spoke a bad word. He makes a face at Farrow like,explain this nonsense to me.He even babbles a confused noise.
We all laugh.
Farrow tilts the bottle towards the baby, and Ripley takes the bait, drinking more.
