Lark
I open my apartment door and step inside, and freeze when I see all five of my sisters lounging around the living room. Finny raises her hands and starts to clap. It’s slow, loud, and obnoxious as hell. Heat creeps into my cheeks, but I square my shoulders and step into the room, tossing my keys onto a nearby end table.
“Congratulations,” Finny says. “You look like you knocked boots all night long.” She leans toward me and whispers loudly. “Just how big is Ryan’s dick? Inquiring minds want to know.”
A grin teases the corners of my lips, despite the fact that I am mortified at being put on the spot. “None of your business,” I say as I flop onto the couch. “What are you all doing here?”
“I called them,” Wren says. She stares out the window from her seat on the couch. Suddenly, she turns toward everyone and I see a tear roll down her cheek. “I needed some advice.”
“Did you tell them yet?” I ask softly. Wren is laboring over this, and I would do just about anything to help her.
She shakes her head, and dimples appear in her chin where she’s biting back tears. My sisters are no longer joking around. They’re serious and they all want to know what happened.
“I’m pregnant,” Wren says. Then she buries her face in her hands.
“How much pregnant?” Finny asks.
Wren looks up. “Does it matter?”
Finny sighs. “Yes, it does, depending on what you’re planning to do about it.”
“You mean get an abortion.” She stares hard at Finny and she throws up her hands in frustration. Wren jabs a finger in her direction. “And you can’t tell Tag. You have to promise.”
Finny shakes her head. “I can’t promise you any such thing. We’re a team.”
Finny married Tag, who is Wren and Star’s biological brother. He didn’t grow up with them, but he carries their DNA, and he’s crazy-protective about them.
“Give me time to figure out what I’m going to do about it, will you?”
“What does the baby daddy say?” Star asks. Star is pregnant too, and she lays a protective hand on her belly.
“He doesn’t want it.” Another tear rolls down Wren’s cheek. “Or me, for that matter.”
“Boy, he’s a w-winner,” Peck says.
“I got ten bucks that says he’ll want something to do with it when he realizes that being the baby daddy of a Zero’s baby could be a lucrative business,” Finny tosses out.
Wren’s jaw drops open. Then she throws a pillow at Finny. Finny catches it and tucks it behind her. “What?” she cries. “He’s not a shining example of humanity, Wren. C’mon.”
“He’s an asshole,” Star says.
“A dickface,” Peck adds.
“Peckerhead,” Wren mutters.
“He’s a dumbass for passing up on something as fabulous as you and that baby could be,” I add.
“So,” Finny says, clapping her hands together, “what are we going to do? Are we going to have a baby, or are we going to decide not to?”
“It’s not that simple,” Wren protests.
“No,” Finny cuts in, “it really is. A woman has the right to choose. Exercise your right not to have it. Or exercise your right to be a mother. Either way, we’re right here.”
“But he’s not,” Wren wails.
“What’s he got that we don’t?” Finny asks stoutly. “A dick? I can buy you one of those.”
Peck rolls her eyes. “Have you been to the d-doctor yet?”
Wren shakes her head.
“I think that’s the first step. Make an appointment and I’ll g-go with you.”
“Okay.”
“Good, so we have a plan,” Finny says. “We’re awesome. We get shit done. We rock.” She gets up and does a little dance.
“You suck,” Wren gripes. But at least now she’s smiling. She turns to me and pushes my shoulder. “Speaking of sucking… How was Mr. Shepherd in bed? Did he suck?”