Songbird (22 page)

“T
here’s a dog.” Shyann giggles.

We’re on our backs, looking up at the clouds.

I squint against the sunlight. “That’s not a dog.”

“Is too. See the tail?”

Concentrating hard, I look for the tail, or anything that resembles an animal. All I see are clouds. But I pretend to see whatever she sees, because it makes her happy.

“Dev, what’s beyond the clouds?”

“Space.”

“And then what?”

“Heaven.”

“We’ll go there someday. We’ll go together. Promise we will.”

“Of course we will.”

I have no reason to doubt it. Shy and I do everything together.

A gentle breeze blows through the trees. I look up and smile. Shy would have loved the sky today. She was all about enjoying the simple things, and cloud-watching was one of her favorites.

Kneeling down, I place the white rose on Shyann’s grave and trace my fingers over her name.

Shyann Hope McAllister

1985-2000

“Hey, Shy.” I sit down on the grass and once again gaze at the sky. Darker clouds are starting to roll in. “I know it’s been a while. I could make up a bunch of excuses, but that’s all they’d be. Excuses. And none of them matter. There’s no excuse for not visiting you more. I’m sorry.”

I pick at one of the flower’s petals. “I’ve been buying a lot of white roses lately. I think that’s why I chose white, because they were your favorite. You always said red roses were pretty but totally unimaginative and lazy. A white rose showed you really put some thought into it.”

A soft rain begins to fall. I lift my face toward the heavens.

“I’ve met someone, Shy. Her name’s Callie. We’re going to have a baby. She’s beautiful and kind and has the sweetest laugh . . . besides yours, of course. She doesn’t put up with my crap, and she makes me want to be better. A better lawyer. Better son. Better brother. A better man. We’ve only known each other for a short time, but I haven’t felt this kind of connection with anyone since you passed away. It’s
different
, of course, but just as strong. And it terrifies me.”

It’s been fifteen years since I’ve cried, so I’m surprised when a tear streams down my cheek.

“It’s a fact of life. We live and die. It’s the how and why that catches us by surprise. I didn’t think I’d live through losing you, but I did. And then I swore I’d never love anybody else. I’d never risk losing someone else that meant so much to me. But I love her, Shy. I’m so in love with her. And I love our baby. But can I do this? Can I love her and be a good father? And can I do it whole-heartedly, without living in constant fear of losing them?”

A small ray of sunshine filters through the clouds.

I smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, baby sister.”

I’d only been five minutes older, but I still considered myself her big brother. Her protector. And she was my conscience. Shyann loved finding the beauty in things that weren’t obviously beautiful at first glance. Like clouds, boy bands . . . and a twin brother who didn’t go to Heaven with her like he promised he would.

Like I always do, I place a kiss on my finger and trace it over her name. After a visit to the cemetery, I usually feel dead inside, but as I walk to my car, I know that today’s different. I feel lighter. Happier.

I’ve just started the car when I get a text. Pulling the phone out of my jacket, I check the caller ID and smile.

Your baby misses you.

Which baby?

Both of us.

The words settle themselves in my heart, giving me even more confidence that I can do this. I
will
do this.

I miss you, too. On my way home.

The next couple weeks are so busy that I can’t find a good time to tell her about my sister. We’re both trying to get caught up with work so that we can enjoy our upcoming trip to see her dad in Brandywine. Between my late night meetings and early mornings in court, and Callie with her upcoming mayoral feature, we’ve barely had a waking moment together. And, if we do happen to find some time to spend together, I’m too focused on trying to keep my hands to myself to really think about anything else, because the woman has made it her life’s mission to drive me completely insane with her short skirts, tall heels, and skimpy pajamas.

Being the responsible one sucks.

I’m probably being overly cautious, but until we talk to Callie’s doctor, I’m just too nervous to have sex with her. Taking it as a personal challenge, she actually called the doctor to get his approval, but he was at some conference in Orlando. His nurse, however, assured Callie that sex during pregnancy was perfectly fine as long as there was no discomfort. My beautiful baby mama took this as a gigantic green light, but she’s also sexually frustrated, so I’m not quite sure how much she can be trusted.

I just really want to talk to her doctor. Is that so wrong?

When the weekend finally rolls around, I’m more than ready to get out of Nashville for a while. It’s a three-hour drive to Brandywine. Stupidly, I thought the pretty drive through the country—not to mention the fact that I was getting ready to meet her father—would squelch any mention of sex.

But no.

“Sex during pregnancy can be wonderful,” Callie says, reading from the baby bible. “You can continue being intimate with your partner for as long as you and your partner are comfortable.”

I roll my eyes and continue to drive. She’s only been reading to me for the past two hours. There’s actually a lot of information in there—and some of it’s educational—but by the time we reach the mountains, I’ve had all I can take with the innuendos and flirting. Once we’re officially out of civilization, I pull over to the side of the road, slam the car into park, and unbuckle my seat belt.

“Get over here.”

Callie grins and swiftly climbs into my lap, groaning low in her throat when her lips find mine. I hold her close, pouring every ounce of frustration and craving into the kiss. I won’t be having sex with her today, but I never want her to mistake my willpower for lack of desire, because that’s not it at all.

I kiss her until we’re breathless. When she finally pulls away, her pretty blue eyes look a little dazed.

“Now behave yourself.”

She smirks and crawls back into her seat. I’m unable to keep the smug smile off my face as we drive on. It’s weird, but I’m excited about this weekend. A little anxious, but excited. This is the first father I’ve officially met, and the man owns guns . . . and knows how to shoot them. He seemed okay with the fact that she wanted to bring someone home. I just hope he’s still cool with it when he finds out I impregnated his daughter.

Callie laughs. “You know, we’ve made really good time. We’re almost there and
now
you’re driving the speed limit. You aren’t nervous are you, Mr. McAllister?”

“Nope. I’m just taking my time and enjoying the scenery now that you’ve shut up about sex.”

“Poor baby.” She laughs and points toward a brick house. “That’s it. On the left.”

Her laughter fades as we pull into the driveway, and I hear her take a deep breath. Reaching across the console, I take her hand in mine and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t be nervous, Songbird.”

“Can’t help it. I’m thirty years old and you’re the first guy I’ve brought home.”

“And it’s the first time I’ve been brought home, so we’re both in unfamiliar territory. But we survived your mother. We can handle this.”

“Dad’s nothing like her. Promise.”

I smile and lean over, kissing her softly.

“No worries. Okay?”

Callie nods and looks toward the house. It’s small, with a porch swing and an American flag waving proudly in the breeze. In the driveway, there’s an old Ford pickup and a red four-door sedan.

“I don’t recognize that car. Wonder who it is?”

“Only one way to find out.”

She nods slowly. “You know, Devin, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. It’s our life.”

I get the feeling this little pep talk is more for her than for me, but I understand. No matter what she says, I know his approval is important to her, which means it’s important to me.

“It’s going to be fine, Callie.”

I squeeze her hand once more before we step out of the car. After grabbing our overnight bags, I follow her to the front door.

She stops. “Umm . . . maybe you’d better wait here. Let me butter him up first.”

“Callie, I don’t think—”

“Please? Just give me a sec. Let me gauge his mood.”

I chuckle and lower our bags onto the porch.

“Fine, Songbird. Go gauge his mood.”

Callie kisses my cheek and doesn’t bother knocking before making her way inside. Sighing tiredly, I sit in the porch swing and gaze out at her neighborhood. It seems quiet. Peaceful. Across the road, a neighbor is watering his flowers. He waves in my direction, and I wave in return. It makes me smile.

Suddenly, the screen door swings open, and a pale-faced Callie rushes out onto the porch. Wide-eyed, she lets the door slam before sitting down next to me.

“What’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head and stares straight ahead. Seconds later, a petite woman with short red hair steps out onto the porch. Her fingers work the top buttons of her blouse.

“Callie, I’m so sorry.”

What the hell?

Before I can ask what’s going on, a man appears in the screen door. He has Callie’s blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He looks apologetic . . . and a little embarrassed.

Were they
 . . .

“I should go,” the woman says, blushing. “It’s . . . so nice to you see again, Callie.”

Callie clears her throat. “You too, Pam. I mean . . . I just saw much more of you than I ever thought I’d see, but yeah, it’s good to see you, too.”

I hide my grin.
They were.

Callie’s dad coughs nervously and nods in my direction. “You’ll . . . take care of her? I’m gonna walk Pam to her car.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Franklin.”

Once they’re out of earshot, I explode with laughter.

Callie punches my arm. “Stop that! I just walked in on my father and Pam Ford, my high school math teacher, having sex on his couch. That woman was straddling my father, much like I was just straddling you in the car, except
she
was naked and they were very much having sex!”