“Chloe,” she suggests.
I recite the name in my head and shrug my shoulders, not sold on the name. We’ve already decided on the name if the baby is a boy but this girl thing is rough. I don’t remember doing this with Connie when she was pregnant. I’m not sure if it’s because I didn’t have an interest back then or if it was because I was out on the road for most of her pregnancies. Probably a bit of both.
“What about Dana?” I say.
“I think we should just keep praying for a boy,” she replies and I actually hear every other word clearly. I’m noticing that I favor my left ear more so than my right.
The bell rings and Reina crawls off me and tries to lift herself off the couch but it’s a losing battle. I feel the smile tug at the corners of my mouth and lean forward to kiss her. Pregnancy suits Reina, makes me wish I was a little younger—we wouldn’t stop at one.
“I’ll get it,” I tell her, patting her knee for her to stay where she is on the couch. I grab my shirt off the back of the couch and pull it over my head as I walk to the front door, never expecting Grace Pastore to be on my door step.
“Hi, Jack,” she says, forcing a smile on her worn face. Vic’s wife is a looker but these days she looks so damn tired, so damn heartbroken.
“Come in,” I say, moving aside for her to enter before kicking the door closed and ushering her into the living room where Reina can help me communicate with our guest.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she starts as Reina holds out her hands to me and I help her onto her feet so she can greet Grace.
“Of course not,” Reina says. “Can we get you something? Coffee maybe?”
She shakes her head and turns to me.
“I came to congratulate you on the wedding,” she pauses, cocking her head to the side. “But now that I’ve said it, it sounds ridiculous. I’m so sorry about everything that transpired on what should’ve been such a beautiful day.”
I didn’t even notice the present in her hand until she handed it to Reina.
“Thank you, Grace,” Reina says, taking the present from her.
“Have you heard anything from Vic?” I ask and I immediately regret the question when her smile falters and she shakes her head.
“I don’t expect to either,” she answers, instantly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “No news means he’s still alive, so I hang on to that and hope he’s not suffering,” she says, turning to Reina who is staring down at a silver serving platter that has our names engraved on it. “Vic’s mother gave me one of those when we first got married and when the girls were born we added their names to it. We thought it was silly at first but after we had the girls we used that platter every night we ate dinner together as a family.”
“It’s beautiful,” Reina says, laying it on the coffee table. “And if we ever decide on a name, we’ll be sure to add it to the platter.”
“Grace,” I say, reaching out for her hand. Her tearful eyes lift to mine and I squeeze her hand. “Vic’s a lucky guy.”
“We were both lucky. It wasn’t just one sided,” she argues and then smiles sadly. “Love is precious, its frail, and it’s gone before some even have time to appreciate it.”
Her eyes drift between me and Reina before she continues.
“Enjoy these times, they may be bumpy, they may be hard but they’ll be a memory quicker than you realize.” She sighs wistfully, pulling me into her arms to embrace me. “If I know my husband as well as I think I do, I know he’d want me to come here today and wish you and your wife the best of luck and to tell you that.”
I wrap my arms around her and look at my wife, her face says it all, she doesn’t want to ever be in Grace’s shoes. I’m an outlaw, albeit an out of commission one, but none the less a man who lives to tempt fate. If I had any sense whatsoever I’d take this injury and run. I’d give her and that kid everything they need, I’d give them me. But I’ve already been dealt these cards, and this patch isn’t just sewn to my cut but it’s branded to my soul.
“I should go,” Grace says, breaking our embrace and moving to kiss Reina goodbye.
“Thank you for the gift and for stopping by,” Reina replies. “Our door is always open.”
The smile on Grace’s face is genuine as she nods and I walk her to the door.
“Anything you need—” I say but she interrupts me.
“I know,” she whispers, cocking her head to the side as her warm eyes pierce mine. “Be safe, Jack Parrish, be smart and be attentive. That woman inside accepts you as you are, loves you as you are but her heart will only take so much. It takes a special kind of woman to live the life you and my husband chose. Respect her for trying.”
She leans in and kisses my cheek before turning on her heel. Her words ring in my ears as she walks to her car, reminding me I am a husband and a father first. Quickly her voice fades and is replaced with another familiar voice.
Ride or die.