Page 57 of Four Tattoos

“We could wait until tomorrow,” Zipper says.

“Yeah, right.” I give him a heavy dose of sarcasm as I pull out my phone.

Hutch pulls to the side of the road and turns to look at me. “What’re you gonna say?”

“Ask how she is and see if she volunteers the information,” Zipper says.

I do as he suggests, and then we wait, an uneasy silence filling the vehicle.

When my phone chimes, three heads jerk back in my direction.

“She says she’s okay,” I tell them. “It’s a one-word response.”

“That’s not like her at all,” Mace observes.

“Don’t know what you’d fucking expect,” Zipper grumbles, even though the simple question I sent was his idea.

“Ask if we can see her,” Hutch says.

A long silence follows the request I send to Rose.

Finally, dots appear, then her message. “She’s already in bed. Says maybe tomorrow.”

The frustration is so thick, it’s nearly visible. Without a word, Hutch peels out onto the road and heads for home.

Unanswered questions pile up in my head like cars in a summer traffic jam. How is she feeling? How long has she known? Which one of us is the father?

44

ROSE

For the first time since I found out I’m pregnant, there’s a busy day ahead of me, and I’m not sure which part I’m dreading most.

First, there’s my shift at the coffee shop, where I have to pretend that my life hasn’t fallen apart, while I do my best to get along with my brother and Nancy. I’m still mad at both of them, but I have much bigger things to worry about. Or rather, much smaller things.

After the coffee shop, but before my night at Club Red, I’ll be seeing Hutch, Mace, Zipper, and Christian at my apartment. A couple of days ago, I’d have been elated that they contacted me, and I’d have been hoping that they changed their minds about us, but now everything is horribly complicated.

I don’t know what I’m going to say to them or how I’m going to say it, but I’ll figure that out while I’m making espresso drinks. I’m definitely going to tell them about the pregnancy; I’m just not sure how.

I debated about waiting for a while, but decided that it’ll be best to get it out sooner than later. I want plenty of time to consider my options, and I want them to be involved in those decisions.

“Morning, Rose,” Nancy sings out when I arrive at Island Java.

Is this how she’s going to play it—like everything’s fine? Like she didn’t tell my brother what I expressly told her not to? I’m still irritated about her lack of discretion, even though it already feels like it happened a year ago.

“Hi,” I say, not even bothering to smile. The sunny outlook I’m known for is usually genuine, but there have been many times in my life when I’ve felt I needed to smile through a variety of negative emotions, and I don’t want to do that anymore.

I don’t owe anyone a smile.

I don’t work the opening shift, so the shop is already busy and things are in full swing when I come in. Nancy goes about her business, and I go about mine, and the day passes quickly. I make two deliveries, neither of them to Brothers in Ink, of course.

Except for necessary work-related interactions, Patrick gives me the silent treatment, and that’s just fine, because I don’t want to talk to him either.

Instead of chatting, I silently run through different ways to break the news to the men, but none of it sounds quite right. How can I plan a conversation when I have no idea how they’ll react? I can imagine them getting mad and shutting down, and I can also imagine them being happy after they get over the initial shock, but maybe that’s just more wishful thinking.

At times, I veer into panic mode, but there are a few moments in my day where glimmers of a happy future come through. I think I’d like being a mom, and I love the idea of having their baby, whichever of the men’s that it is.

I can envision a happy little life, but the guys would probably think that’s just me being naïve and overly optimistic. Maybe it’s silly to hope that life could go smoothly when it comes to relationships and parenthood.

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