“If he thinks you moved on with someone else, he might think the baby isn’t his.”
“Then he doesn’t know me at all.”
“Agreed. Sorry I brought it up. He’s an asshole. He should have fought for you.” Brian pushes his plate away. “Want to get out of here? Get some fresh air?”
“Yeah.” Brian goes to the back of the diner to grab the stroller. I slowly get up, trying my best not to wake Bailey. When I stand, my eyes briefly meet the same ones I see every day in my daughter. He continues to enter into the diner.
“Linc.” I breathe his name out, not believing he’s here. He finally turns, his eyes meeting mine.
“Motherfucker,” Brian grits out. Before I know what’s happening, he’s across the diner. “Let’s see how well you sing after this,” he says before punching Linc right in the jaw.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Linc
I don’t know what was more surprising—the baby Cherry was holding or the fist across my face.
“Motherfu—“ Nick launches himself at Brian and it’s only because Hal jumps in to help Benjy that Cherry’s boyfriend doesn’t end up on the floor next to me. Miss D hustles off to get me a bag of ice while Nick and I are forced into a corner booth.
I peer around my friends to get another look at Cherry. There’s something about the way she holds the baby with her hand up behind the infant’s head and her arms across the body that makes me think she either doesn’t want me to see the baby or is afraid I’m going to do something to it.
And I am. I push by my manager, Nick, Benjy, and Miss D returning with a cup of ice and make my way to Cherry. Her pretty mouth is pressed into a tight line and there is a tenseness in her frame. Brian steps into my path.
“Don’t,” I say with a shake of my head. I’m not in the mood to hit Cherry’s boyfriend in front of her. It would make her sad. I’m not about to make her sad. “What’s his name?” I ask when I reach her.
“It’s a girl.” Cherry blinks a couple times, as if she’s trying to keep tears at bay.
My own throat closes up. A girl. The unfairness of the situation threatens to put me back on my ass but I manage to keep my knees locked. “Can I hold her?”
Cherry hesitates, as if contemplating whether I’m worthy. I keep my hands at my sides, but I can’t stop them from forming into fists. I’ve never been anything but good to Cherry. Never raised my hand or voice. “I’m not going to hurt her.”
“I know.” Cherry’s own voice is scratchy.
“You should leave,” comes Brian’s voice from over my shoulder.
I don’t bother to turn around. “And you should take a step back before your face and the floor become one. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of Cherry and your k–” I can’t even get that word out. That should be my kid. Cherry should be holding my daughter. I want to throw back my head and howl with rage. I’d trade every gig, every dollar, every cheer to have this kid with Cherry. Why’d I ever leave?
“Please,” I whisper to her.
My pitiful plea breaks through. Cherry untangles the baby from her arms and gently hands me the girl. The baby is tiny, barely heavier than a loaf of bread, but infinitely more breakable. My knees get weak again and I slide into an empty seat, not noticing that the booth is already occupied by Max Reed, the mayor’s son.
“First time holding a kid, Graves?” Reed asks.
“Yeah.”
“Hold the head or her mama might kill you.”
A quick look in Cherry’s direction confirms Reed’s statement. She’s ready to grab this baby from me at the first sign of wrongdoing. I readjust the baby in my arms.
“The kid’s name is Bailey,” Reed informs me.
“How do you know?” I scowl.
“Everyone does. This is Shindale.” He jerks his chin toward Brian, the kid I could’ve sworn was gay. He was a grade below us. I think. “And that while you were becoming famous, Brian stepped into the Linc-sized hole in Cherry’s life.”
“Shut up, Max,” Cherry snaps.
Max pretends to zip his mouth shut and gets to his feet. “Pie and coffee is too good to keep talking. Thanks for coming back and playing the festival. Shindale needs the economic boost.” “Is that why you came back? To play a gig?” The word sounds like a curse from Cherry’s lips.
I want to say I came home for her, that I’ve saved enough to take her away from Shindale, that she doesn’t need to worry about money ever again. I want to say that I don’t care if she slept with Brian or a hundred Brians because her straying was on me. I want to say that I love her and that I’ll always love her no matter the distance or time that separates us.