Unrequited(58)

Other than high school Finn, Ivy's experience with men was poor. Most of them were the ones she’d used to score more drugs, and now she was knocked up by some mysterious guy. But I wasn't going to allow her past bad experiences to color what I had with Finn. My only regret about Finn was that we didn't spend more time together, but that was primarily my fault.

I hated sleeping away from Ivy, but that one night I'd invited Finn to stay had been disastrous. Finn hadn't slept well in my twin bed, and we'd both gone to bed worn out and aroused. Finn muttered the next day that he was buying me a new bed, but I didn't want that. What I wanted was to be able to sleep with him whenever I wanted. Besides, I liked paying my own way.

I figured once Ivy got over this stage, whatever it was, I'd be able to spend a few nights away with Finn. I was trying hard to be patient because the last thing I wanted was for Ivy to flake out and find solace in a bottle.

Once we got home, we carried the crib up in pieces. I had a small set of tools I'd kept from when I'd sold off Dad's stuff. It had a hammer, a couple of screwdrivers with different shaped heads, a measuring tape, and a small set of wrenches.

Ivy and I spent at least an hour trying to put the damn thing together, but despite the fact I had meticulously photographed the sales guy taking the crib apart, I couldn't reconstruct it.

"Try putting that screw here," Ivy said. I stuck the screw in even though I knew it didn't fit. "Not that hole. The one above it."

"Ivy, I tried before, and it didn't work." We were both losing our patience.

"This is the stupidest fucking thing." In a fit of temper, Ivy stood and kicked the crib frame. "Ow, fuck. That hurt. Jesus. We can't even put the stupid crib together," Ivy cried, throwing down the screwdriver. She stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door.

I heard her noisy sobs through the hollow core door. I wanted to put my head down and cry too. We were two twenty-somethings with shitty paying jobs bringing a baby into the world. It was criminally negligent in some ways.

If Finn were there, he'd have this together in no time. He could probably make one from scratch or from the pieces of our coffee table. I picked up my phone to call him.

Ivy stuck her head into my room.

"Finn's coming," Ivy said.

I looked at my phone. Had I called him and not realized it. "What?"

"I said, Finn is coming. I called him and told him to fix our crib. He'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"You called him?"

"Yeah, what of it?" She jutted her chin out in challenge.

What of it? I wanted to shout at her back. He’s my boyfriend, not yours. But I didn't because I was the calm, got-her-shit-together sister and not the drug addict, knocked-up one.

"I would have called him," I said, trying to keep my anger out of my voice. Was I getting upset over nothing?

"Because you're fucking him, I can't even call him now?"

A red hot flush washed over me, and I almost attacked her. I almost struck her. My own sister. I took a step toward her, my hand raised before I could even think. We stood frozen for a moment. She slouched as I loomed in front of her, and even though she had four inches on me, she was scared.

"What's happening to us?" she cried.

"I don't know." My hand dropped to my side and shame replaced my anger. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, me too, Winter." She rushed forward and gathered me against her. I felt the slight bump of her belly, but instead of excitement I felt resentment. I didn't know who I was turning into. "It's Finn, Winter. We never fought before he came along."

I patted her back by rote. Was it Finn? I didn't think so, but our life had changed since I started seeing him.

When he showed up with his tool belt, Ivy changed again. For someone who professed to not like him, she flitted around him like a butterfly.

"That should do it," Finn said, tightening the last bolt. He wiggled the side rail, and the crib didn't move at all. It was the most solid thing in our apartment now. If we had an earthquake, it would be the only thing left standing. Ivy was impressed too but not in the way I wanted. She looked at him like a cat looked at fresh cream.

I couldn't blame her. I'm sure I wore the same expression. Finn had come in, took one look at the pieces on the floor and put it back together faster than I could microwave three burritos for lunch, which is what I did while Ivy sat on the floor admiring Finn's handiness.

There wasn't anything more sexy than a capable man. For a pregnant woman, watching a capable man put a crib together was probably as orgasmic as the sex that had gotten her pregnant in the first place. At least that's what I was reading in Ivy's eyes, and I didn't like it at all.

She'd gone from Finn's worthless to Shit, this guy can do things in a very short time.