Lilah moved to the gate that led to the walkway that would take them out front. “I’ll see you out,” she said, and held the gate for them.
Well then, no time like the present. “Thanks,” he replied, and whistled to Key as he went. He waited while she resecured the gate and tried to figure out how to open the conversation. “You, ah…you know Izzy got called to L.A. due to a work emergency?”
“I heard,” she said, and shot him a sympathetic smile. “I hope she comes back soon.”
“Me too,” he admitted as they made their way to the street and kept to himself how unlikely that outcome was, as things currently stood. “Before she left, she told me you and I should talk.” He looked over to see how Lilah took that piece of information. He detected a slight wince, but she remained silent. “She didn’t say why,” he added when they approached the truck, “but she considered it important.”
Lilah stood for a long second, biting her lip, looking uncertain and…shit…scared, if he read her right. “Whatever it is, I want to help. You can trust me,” he assured her.
Blinking rapidly, she nodded, then glanced around at the sidewalk. “Can we talk in the car?”
“Sure.” He opened the passenger door for her and helped her in before signaling Key into the back. Moments later he came around and got behind the wheel. Doors closed, heat on, Key settled on the floor between the second-row seats—that concluded the getting comfy portion of the conversation. “Tell me what’s going on,” he urged. “Tell me how I can help.”
“Can I have your word you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you? I mean, other than Izzy. She already knows.”
“Of course.” Christ, Lilah was practically a teenager. What secret could a kid like her possibly have that stressed her out this badly, and, hell, what could it possibly have to do with Izzy and him?
“Okay. Thank you.” She stared through the windshield, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Trace, I’m pregnant.”
“You’re what?” He couldn’t have heard her right. His gaze dropped to her stomach, completely hidden by her thick, purple hoodie.
“Pregnant,” she repeated, facing him.
The first thought that entered his head flew from his mouth, unfiltered. “Who is he? I’ll kill him.”
Wrong thing to say, obviously, and it brought tears to her pretty green eyes. “Y-you can’t.” Her entire body radiated misery. “He’s already dead.”
“Already dead?” His mind spun on that like tires in sand, and then… “Oh, no.”
Lilah simply sniffled and wiped her cheeks with her hands.
“How could he?” He hadn’t actually directed the question to Lilah, but she answered, nonetheless.
“We,” she corrected. “How could we.”
“You’re a baby, honey. He had no business touching you.”
She shook her head, even managed a small smile despite the steady stream of tears silently rolling down her cheeks. “I’m twenty. Legal adult. I knew what I was doing. He didn’t take advantage of me. Probably the reverse,” she admitted with a sad shrug. “He was a little drunk.”
Great. Shay had died in November. He did the math in his head. “How far along are you?”
“About five months.”
He knew less than nothing when it came to options and deadlines on those options, but five months sounded late, to him, for certain courses of action. A shameful sort of relief washed through him with that thought. Shameful because, even if some deep-seated part of him already felt protective—of Lilah, and the baby, and yes, even Shay—this was not his choice. “Did he know?”
Lilah bit her lip and shook her head. She didn’t meet his eyes. She was a good kid, a scrupulously honest one, in his experience, so he attributed her reluctant response to regret. Or maybe he wanted to believe her. Badly. He desperately wanted to believe that if Shay had known, he would have stepped up and done the right thing.
Unsure of his standing to ask the next question, he took her hand to let her know he was on her side, no matter what the answer. “Honey, what do you want to do? I’ll help however I can.” He would. “I promise.”
She squeezed his hand and choked back a sob.
Relief?
“I’m having the baby. That’s never been—” She broke off and took a slow, stabilizing breath. “I never considered not having this baby.” Pressing her free hand to her abdomen, she said, “It’s Shay’s baby. Part of him. He was a friend to me all my life. And then, for one night, he was more. After, he was understanding and…still a friend.” Tears flowed again, silent and infinitely heartbreaking. “What he left behind is a gift. It’s precious to me. More than I imagined anything could be.”
Trace felt his own eyes burn. He could take a lesson in grace and bravery from the woman in front of him. Not a kid, he silently acknowledged. A woman. A woman who was carrying a living legacy of his brother. A woman who was going to have Shay’s baby. Around the bowling ball of emotion choking him, he whispered, “So, you’re telling me I’m going to be an uncle?”
She responded with a watery laugh. “Yes, to a very nicely developing little one, according to Dr. Devan. Bridget’s going to be an aunt. Mr. and Mrs. Shanahan will be grandparents.”
God, Bridget was going to lose her mind. The kid would have its own bush plane at birth. His parents were going to…he didn’t even know. Shay’s death had devastated them. This baby was like a miracle. He laughed, surprising himself with the sound.
“After Izzy arrived, and I watched you two together,” Lilah went on, “I wondered if you might want to be more to the baby than uncle and aunt. You and Izzy, I mean.”
“More?” He didn’t follow.
“I am an adult. I’m trying to make adult decisions. I love this baby.” Unconsciously, she crossed her arms over her middle. “I love it so much, and I have to think about what will be best for it. I’m single. I rely on my mother for the roof over my head, my job. My mother…” Her eyes turned sad again but remained clear and dry. “My mother is going to disown me when she finds out.”
“She doesn’t know.” It was a statement, not a question. Lilah wasn’t necessarily overdramatizing. Strict, stubborn Rose had deliberately kept a sharp eye on Lilah, in part to ensure she avoided the same path Rose herself had taken, becoming a young, single mother mostly banished from her own strict, stubborn family for the perceived moral failing. He’d work on her. It would take time, but he sincerely doubted Rose would cut her only daughter out of her life forever, the way her family had done with her.