By Degrees

  “Yeah. Sure.” I’m too stunned to argue. Retracing my steps back to the family room, I find a spot on the couch and sit down. I can hear him whispering to the baby as I scan the space around me. My brain moves into survival mode, shoving the whacked-out crap in the back room out of my mind in favor of casually observing my surroundings. It’s a much less stressful exercise than trying to figure out how Tarin ended up rocking a baby to sleep in a secret bungalow in L.A.

  The house is tastefully decorated for the most part. There are no personal mementos around, but there are some hand-made blankets thrown over armchairs and the couch. The television is the older kind, a big box. There’s no cable box or remote in sight. Everything is clean, but it’s kind of like the place has sat for a long time, unused. There’s nothing very modern about anything in this room.

  Tarin joins me a couple minutes into my nosing around. He sits on other side of the couch and holds out his hand at me. “Thanks for coming, and for not running out the door and all the way back to Chicago as soon as you saw the baby.”

  “I still have my running shoes on, Tarin. Don’t count any chickens just yet. Tell me what the hell is going on.” I’m relieved my voice is back in working order. My heart hasn’t decided whether it is or not, though.

  “About a week ago, Jelly went into the hospital. She wasn’t due for another month or so, but she was having problems. I’ve been paying for her medical care, as you know, and so they keep me updated on what’s going on.” He plays absently with some yarn on the blanket lying over the back of the couch. “She was supposed to be on bed rest, but she went out partying.”

  “Who the hell parties with an eight-month-pregnant woman?”

  “Plenty of people when I’m paying the bills.”

  “Ew.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it. So anyway, she was using on and off while she was pregnant. Not a lot, because I’ve had people kind of babysitting her, but this time, she went off the map. Someone dropped her off at the hospital several days ago really out of it. She went into pre-term labor and had the baby almost four weeks early.”

  “Oh my god, Tarin.” I reach out and put my hand on his.

  He has a smile for the briefest moment and then it’s gone again. “Thanks. So they called me and I came out to just be there for her and mostly for the baby, but before I got to the hospital, she had more problems.”

  “Who, the baby or Jelly?”

  “Jelly. The baby was fine. She spent a couple days in the NICU but after that she was good enough to go home. Jelly had issues with the drugs, though, and with eclampsia, and I don’t know what else. Basically her organs just started shutting down. She had a stroke and then her heart gave out and she went into a coma.”

  My hand flies to my mouth as I picture that poor mess of a girl in such a horrible situation. “Is she okay?” I whisper.

  “No.” Tarin’s voice gets rough. “She died, Scarlett. She died yesterday.” Tears come to his eyes and fall down his cheeks. “That’s why I’ve been so busy and out of touch. I was dealing with her and then the funeral home.”

  I scoot closer to him on the couch and pull him into my arms. “Oh, babe … I’m so sorry. I know she was your friend.”

  He puts his arms loosely around me. “Yeah, she was kind of a pain in the ass, but underneath it all, she was a good girl. She just liked to party too much. She wasn’t treated so well as a kid and it just followed her for her whole life. She could never get away from it.”

  I can’t stop crying now. I said and thought awful things about her. I tried to kick her out of Tarin’s life. I feel responsible. Another life lost due to my careless bad judgment. “I’m so sorry, Tarin. I’m so sorry.”

  “I am too. I feel like I didn’t try hard enough.”

  “But you did!” I pull away and hold his face in my hands. “You were so good to her. You paid for her care and for the baby, you put her in this nice house, you kept her in your life … you aren’t to blame.”

  “I know that. You taught me that. I can only take responsibility for myself, but I still feel like maybe if I had done more, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Now I know what you’ve gone through, at least on a small scale, with Austin. I keep saying to myself that maybe she wouldn’t have needed to party so much if I’d taken over her life and forced her into rehab. Maybe I should have canceled my tour.”

  “Please don’t do that to yourself. I did that to myself for over two years, and I’m still paying for it. You’re not to blame. Hell, maybe it’s my fault this happened. Everything was fine between you two until I showed up.”

  Tarin grabs my wrists and squeezes. “No. Don’t say that. That’s ridiculous. Neither of us is at fault. Come on, we know this. Jelly made her choices and she died because of them.” He softens his voice and slows down the pace of his delivery. “And we’re left to make our choices about where we go from here.”

  He drops my wrists and looks me in the eyes, saying nothing.

  “What does that mean?” I ask him softly. My heart yearns for him, and it’s a physical pain. I want to be closer to him, to feel his arms around me, but there’s something between us now. Our lives will be forever changed because of the choices Jelly made for herself and, by default, for Tarin and me.

  “I’m Geneva’s father. She’s my daughter. My life as a single guy living the rock-n-roll life is over.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I just listen.

  “Before I knew this was going to happen, I was just going to be the friend of the family who paid for Geneva’s needs and her school and her music and dance lessons. But now I’m the guy who’s going to read her books every night before she goes to bed. I’m the guy who’s going to drive her to ballet classes and gymnastics and play dates. I’m the guy who will teach her how to walk and to drive and to say no to boys who want to kiss her. I’m that guy. I’m the dad.”

  I nod, tears coursing down my cheeks. Life is so crazy sometimes when it takes a person by the throat like this and just throws him to the mat. No one can fight like Destiny. Destiny wins every round, every match, every time.

  “What I need to know is, what does it make you?” Tarin asks.

  “What do you mean?” I swipe at my tears, but new ones are immediately there to replace them. Both of us are a mess.

  “Before all this you were my forever girl. We were going to live in Chicago together happily ever after. But there was no Geneva in the mix when we made those plans. Now there is. And as much as I love you, I can’t give her up. I’m all she’s got, and even though she’s really, really tiny, I already love her.” His voice cracks on the last words and his chin drops to his chest. “I don’t know how all this shit happened, Scarlett. I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re sorry because you don’t want to be with me?”

  He looks up, anguish making his face twist. “No! Jesus, I want to be with you more than anything! But I just know … or I figured … the last thing you’d want to do is be around Jelly’s kid. She wasn’t … she wasn’t the best person in the world and I know you didn’t approve of her.”

  “You make me sound like a monster.”

  He takes my hand in his and holds it tight. “I didn’t mean it like that. I really didn’t. You were right to be angry with her. She was a user and a loser in almost every way.”

  “No, she wasn’t. Don’t say that. Like you said, she had a hard life and she was a survivor. I can respect that, even if I didn’t agree with her methods.” I pull my hands back and put them in my lap. I can’t look in his eyes anymore. “I’m hurt, though, that you think I’m the kind of person that could hold a person’s parents against her. That I’d not like a tiny baby because I didn’t like her mom much.”

  “No one would blame you if you did. It doesn’t make you a bad person, it just makes you human.”

  “No.” I shake my head emphatically. “That is bad person material, there. Babies are innocent. Anyone who dislikes a baby is an asshole.”

  Tarin lau
ghs softly. “That’s good to know … that you feel that way.”

  I look up and we stare at each other for a long time. He reaches over and wipes the tears from my eyes, and then I do the same for him.

  “So where does this leave us?” I ask, finally breaking the silence.

  “You have a choice.”

  My lips tremble. “I do?” I can barely get the words out.

  “Yeah.”

  “Fine. What are my options?”

  He takes my hands in his again. “Well, option one is you can stand up, walk out that door, and never see me or Geneva again. Free pass. No hard feelings, just me with a broken heart and a baby to take care of.”

  “That sounds like a pretty shitty option. I hope there’s another one.”

  His mouth goes up in a half smile. “There is. Your second option is to stay here in L.A. with me and Geneva. We could live together and you could hang out with me while I take care of her. Or you could live close by and visit a lot.”

  My heart spasms with the pain that option brings. Maybe it should make me happy, but I want more. “Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “Do either of those options sound like something you could do or want to do?”

  “Maybe. But I want to know what you want me to do.”

  “Honestly?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Truth. Truth … or dare.”

  He sits up straighter, letting my hands slip out of his. “Yeah, okay. Truth or dare.” His sexy confidence is back and my body instantly responds. I have to wipe my mouth to keep from licking my lips in anticipation.

  “You choose truth, then?” I ask. My heart is hammering in my chest. I can hear it in my ears.

  “Of course.”

  “That’s tricky you know. Asking for truth.”

  “So you’ve learned,” he says, leaning in closer to me.

  “I’ve played with the best,” I say, moving in closer too.

  “Go ahead then, do your worst. Ask your question and I’ll give you the truth.”

  “Okay fine. What do you want me to do in this situation. With you and Geneva here. The whole truth.”

  “And nothing but?” he says.

  “And nothing but.”

  He breathes out through his nose once, hard. “Okay. Time to man-up. I can do this. Scarlett?”

  “Yes?” I’m so anxious now as I wait for his words I can hardly sit still.

  “I want you…”

  “Yes…?”

  He clears his throat and then pulls at the neck of his shirt. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”

  I slap him on the arm. “Don’t play. Answer the question.”

  “Question? Did you ask me a question?”

  “Tarin, I’m warning you…”

  “What was it again? I forgot.” He’s grinning now, begging to be tackled.

  “I’m not going to touch you until you finish the game. Answer the question. What do you want me to do?”

  “You’re pushy.”

  “Answer it.”

  “I like pushy women.”

  “Answer it.

  “I like to have sex with pushy women. In the family room. On the floor.”

  “Tarin!” I jump over and tackle him backwards into the cushions. Our faces are an inch apart. “Answer the freaking question or you’re going to have to pay the forfeit.”

  “Oooo, I get to be your slave for a day and give you an ass massage? I choose forfeit. Uncle. I give. You win.”

  “No. The forfeit in this game is you get to be Scott’s slave for a day and give him an ass massage. And fair warning … he has a hairy ass. Pimply too.”

  Tarin grimaces. “For reals?”

  “For reals. Answer the question.”

  “Fine.” He reaches up and kisses me quick. “I want you to move in with me and Geneva and play house with us.”

  I frown, scrunching up my eyebrows. “Define play house for me.”

  “Wake up, have breakfast, work out, walk the baby in the stroller, feed the baby, rock the baby, have sex with me while the baby sleeps, make some music together, walk the baby, feed the baby, rock the baby, eat another meal, have some more sex …”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  He smacks my butt. “You’re a hard worker. You could handle it.”

  “Would it be me doing all that baby stuff?”

  “We’d do it together. Team effort. Me and you. You and me. You and me and Geneva makes three.” He grins.

  I die a little inside at his adorably stupid expression. And then I think about the realities of that kind of life.

  “I’m not sure I can do that, Tarin.”

  He freezes, his smile faltering. “What do you mean?”

  I kiss him once, trying to ease the sting of my words. “What if you decide you’re tired of me? Tired of being home instead of out on the road? What will you do then? Disappear and leave me to take care of her? Because as much as I like kids, I’m not sure I could handle that.”

  He shakes his head. “No fucking way. ‘Scuze the French, but no. I’m not that kind of dad.”

  Just hearing that word makes my heart melt a little. Dad. I stroke the side of his face. “You’re a dad now.”

  “Yeah. I’m a dad now. And I want you to be the mom.”

  I sit up all of a sudden, my heart going double-time. “What?”

  Tarin sits up slowly, never taking his eyes off mine. “I want you to really do this with me. All the way. I’m the dad, you’re the mom. Together. Us.”

  I frown, torn between crying, screaming, and smiling. I settle for the crying. “Will you please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about? I’m so confused right now, I don’t know whether you want a roommate, a mistress, a governess, or a wife. Seriously. Speak plainly or suffer my wrath. My sanity is questionable at this point.”

  Tarin stands up and pulls me to my feet. Once I’m there he drops down on one knee.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper. “What are you doing down there? Get up!”

  He takes my hand in his and reaches around behind him. Out of his back pocket he pulls a band of gold with a diamond perched on top of it. His grin is a wonder to behold as he holds it up between us.

  I can’t breathe!

  I can’t breathe!

  “Scarlett? Will you be my baby momma? The one who pulls me back from the brink and saves my soul when I’m about to toss it out with the trash? The lady who plays truth or dare with me and forfeits on purpose just so she can give me an ass massage? The girl who forgives me when I say and do stupid shit when I’m trying to be romantic? Will you be the one who goes to bed with me at night and wakes up next to me in the morning and kisses me regardless of my morning breath? Will you kick my ass in the boxing ring until we’re old and gray? Will you…”

  “Tarin…” I’m crying so hard, I can’t speak.

  “Okay, I’ll cut it short. Scarlett, truth or dare?

  I stand stock still for a full ten seconds waiting to hear the voice of Austin’s spirit telling me to run. But he remains silent. The only thing I can sense inside the headspace where Austin normally resides is peace and acceptance. I don’t know if it’s coming from him or my own heart, but it doesn’t matter. I finally, for the first time in two years, feel healed and ready to move on with my life. How could I not with this beautiful man before me down on one knee?

  “Dare,” I say, the tears drying enough for me to speak.

  He grins devilishly at me. “Wise choice. Okay, Scarlett …? I dare you to marry me.”

  I nod at Tarin, my smile hurts it’s so big. “I’ll take that dare.”

  “Good. Glad you said that, because I got this rock on sale and they said they wouldn’t take it back. And besides, I’m really not all that into ass massages. I just said that before to con you into telling me your inner secrets.”

  He slides the ring on my finger, and only when I’m sure it’s on good and tight do I grab a pillow and conk him over the head with it.


  Chapter Fifty-Five

  TARIN AND I ARE STROLLING down the sidewalk, taking turns pushing Geneva in her buggy. The rings on my left hand sparkle in the late morning sunlight.

  “So Scott’s moved on to his next project, huh?” Tarin says, his arm draped loosely over my shoulders.

  I look off in the distance at the sound of a small engine coming our way. “Ask him yourself,” I say, pointing to the blue Vespa zipping down the street.

  It pulls up next to us, its rider flipping up the visor of his helmet.

  “Yo, yo, yo, happy family, what’s up?” Scott grins, making his eyes crinkle. I can’t see his mouth, but he’s pretty much smiling all the time now, so I know it’s there. He’s on top of the world, making serious cash money with finishing up Tarin’s job and now heading into his next one. And this one’s even more high profile.

  “Nice ride,” says Tarin, nodding as he takes in the gleaming powder blue metal and leather seat.

  “Yeah, it gets about a hundred miles to the gallon. Very enviro-friendly. Plus all the ladies like it, so …yeah.”

  “What up? Moving on to your next project?” Tarin asks.

  “Yeah. Should be pretty decent. Can’t share names. Confidentiality agreements and so on, you know the gig.” He pushes his scooter forward more so he can look in the buggy. “How’s my goddaughter doing?”

  “She hasn’t changed much since you saw her last night,” I say, rolling my eyes. He sees the baby as much or more than I do. Baby fever is running rampant in the Kilgour household, and I still can’t stand the idea of Scott moving out. Luckily Tarin’s on board with a semi-permanent houseguest.

  “They grow so fast,” he says, sighing. Slapping his visor down he finishes off with a salute. “Later, peeps. Keep it real. I’ll be in touch.”

  Tarin and I wave as he buzzes off. I laugh when he almost loses control and ends up in someone’s driveway in the process of recovering. He waves back at us to let us know he’s okay.

  “Are we sure the Vespa’s a good idea for him?” Tarin asks, looking back over his shoulder at Scott’s departing form as we continue our walk.