She looked at Tank, and he said, “Sure thing, Twitch.”
Junie beamed at him as he sat beside their tiny blanket.
“Picnic!” Rosie clapped.
Leah and Ginger filled everyone’s plates, and for nearly two hours, the living room was filled with laughter and chatter. The girls wanted to know why Tank and Conroy drew on their arms, and Conroy told them that every tattoo had a story. The girls prodded them through five or six stories before moving on to a dozen other topics. After dinner, Ginger refused to let Leah do the dishes, urging her to relax instead, but relaxing gave her mind time to wander into sadder territory.
Conroy lifted one girl into each of his arms and walked around the living room, asking about the pictures on the walls. Rosie said, “Wiver’s with Gwampa! He watchin’ us!”
Conroy looked up at the ceiling and said, “Hello, Grandpa. Hello, River. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to know you. But maybe I can through these lovely little ladies.”
The girls started talking excitedly about River.
Leah teared up and turned away, overcome with mixed emotions.
Tank put a hand on her back, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “You okay?”
“Yeah. My girls never knew their grandfather, and your parents are so nice, with the food, and the stories, and tonight was just…” Her voice was lost to tears.
He drew her into his arms as he’d done last night, moving his hand soothingly up and down her back. “Tonight you got to remember what it’s like to have a parent around. That’s a good thing, darlin’.”
She was surprised that he already felt familiar, and although she wanted to stay right there in his protective arms, she didn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression. She stepped back, wiping her eyes. The girls were showing Conroy their bedroom, and Ginger looked over, smiling warmly as she set a plate of cookies on the bar.
Tank touched Leah’s hip. “What can I do for you, Lee?”
Didn’t he know that short of bringing her brother back, he’d already given her more than she could ever ask for? “I can’t think of a single thing.”
LATER THAT NIGHT, Tank headed over to the tattoo shop to check in with Gia and Cait. They gave him hell about looking exhausted and needing to take better care of himself. What else was new? He hadn’t slept well since Ashley died. After catching up on shop business, he headed home to get the blankets he’d hung out to dry for Leah. He drove down the narrow-wooded lane to his four-bedroom home nestled on a private wooded lot, with just enough lawn for a game of football with his brothers and cousins. He’d gotten a steal on the place. Preacher and Reba owned Cape Renovators, and Zeke and Zander worked with them. They’d helped Tank renovate the interior and build a two-story deck off to the side.
He didn’t care much about where he rested his head at night, but he liked his privacy, and the house had become his sanctuary. He liked the open floor plan, the cathedral ceilings, and the rustic feel of the hardwood floors, the exposed stained rafters, the brick fireplace, and the views of the surrounding woods through two walls of patio doors. He went around back and took the blankets down from the laundry line. He’d been in a rush to get back to Leah and the girls when he’d washed them and hung them up to dry, but now he saw that they were made of tiny onesies, baby socks, hats, and other cute pieces of clothing. There were bibs and bows, and each blanket had one of the girls’ names sewn in with colorful fabric. He wondered if Leah had made them. As he carried them inside, thinking about Junie’s serious expression and Rosie’s impish grin that never seemed to falter, Leah’s beautiful face sailed through his mind, and he felt a tug deep in his chest.
How was it possible that he missed them?
He headed into his bedroom to grab a sweatshirt and a few books, then went to the kitchen to make a thermos of coffee. His house was too quiet and empty. It didn’t have the warmth of Leah’s much smaller cottage. Who knew toys strewn about and the pitter-patter of tiny feet and chirpy voices could make a house feel more like a home?
And why the hell am I thinking like that?
He drove back to Leah’s and parked out front, wondering what Leah and the girls were up to. It was only eight forty-five. Were they sleeping? They had to be exhausted. He picked up a book, but his eyes kept trailing back to the house. His phone rang, and Baz’s name flashed on the screen.
Tank put the phone to his ear. “Hey, brother.”
“Hi. How’s Leah?”
“She seemed a little better tonight. Mom and Dad came over with dinner. I think it helped.”
“They can make the shittiest times feel better, can’t they?”
Tank laughed softly. “Yeah. She and the girls laughed a lot.”
“I’m glad to hear it. It fucking sucks to lose a sibling.”
“No shit. I hate that they’re going through this. You should see the girls. They’re the sweetest little things. Rosie is just like Ash used to be, all bubbly and shit. And Junie…man. She’s intense. She’s not talking much, like she’s trying to figure it all out.” He gritted his teeth. “She’s too fucking little to need to figure out this shit. And Leah’s so torn apart. I just want to hold her and let her know that even though every minute feels like hell right now, she’s going to be okay. She’s got no one, man. The girls’ father isn’t in the picture, Leah’s dad’s dead, and she never knew her mom. It’s just her and the girls.”
“Sounds like she’s got you.”
Tank looked up at the house. “Yeah, but I’m sitting out here in my truck feeling like I should be in there.”
“Wait. You’re still at her place?” Baz sounded concerned.
“I just told you she’s got nobody. You know how grief is. She could wake up at two in the morning and need someone to lean on. I want to be here in case she needs me.”
“Well, she must be pretty special. I haven’t heard you sound like this…maybe ever,” Baz said.
“She is, but it’s not like that. I just want to help.”
“Tank, I know you. It might have started that way, but that’s not what I’m hearing.”
Very little got past his most intuitive brother. “Yeah, well, now’s not the time.”
“Right. Do you want me to come hang out with you? We can shoot the shit so you’re not alone?”
Leah’s front door opened, and she headed toward his truck with a pained expression.
“No thanks, Baz. I gotta run. Leah needs something.” He ended the call and climbed out of the truck. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate to ask you this, and you can say no, but the girls want to know if you’ll say good night to them. I tried distracting them with stories and songs, but—”
“I’m happy to, and you don’t need to be sorry. That’s what I’m here for. Whatever you and the girls need.” As they headed up the walk, he said, “I’m sorry if I’m causing an issue with your kids.”
“You’re not. They like you, and I’m glad you’re here.” She touched his arm and stopped walking, looking a little troubled. “Thank you for giving me Saint’s number. He made everything so easy, but, Tank, he said the cost was already taken care of. Did you do that?”