Safe

-41- Hugs & Names

Kendra Lincoln

"We needed this." Meghan sighs, linking her arm through mine as she sips her coffee.

I smile, she's right. "I know."

"I also can't believe your pregnant." She squeals. "Have you picked out names?"

I shift the bags on my arm as she pulls me into another store. "No."

"Why not? God I knew immediately what the girls names would be. I even had boy names picked out just incase the doctors made a mistake. Easton or Asher." She says even though I already know.

I don't say anything, losing myself for a moment as I think about my other two babies. How I had names picked out for my first. How I held off on my second. How I lost them both. Tears prick my eyes as I absentmindedly slide clothes across the rack.

"Kendra?" Meghan's hand lands on my arm, her face blurry through my tears.

"Sorry, pregnancy." I mumble, trying to laugh it off. "Emotions are haywire."

"What's wrong?"

I look up, trying to keep the tears from falling because the middle of a Macy's is not where I want to have an emotional breakdown.

"Talk to me." Meghan insists.

Her hands run up and down my arms. I go to brush it off again but as I meet Meghan's eyes I can't push my fears aside any longer and it all comes tumbling out.

"What if I lose her too?" I'm scared to speak the words too loud. "I can't lose another baby."

"Oh Kendra." She pulls me into her and I take comfort in my sister.

I've missed her.

"It's going to be okay." She tells me.

"You don't know that."

Just as quick as our hug started it ends as she holds me at arms length.

"You've made it this far. Right? That has to be a good sign." I wipe at a tear that escaped. "You need to stay positive."

"I know." All the doctor has been telling me is not to stress. And the more she tells me the more I stress.

"You deserve to be happy and excited. You've waited so long to be a mom." She says. "And now you're going to be a mom of two with two sweet angels."

"I've missed you Megs." I say, the few tears that were in my eyes now a relentless stream down my face.

"Oh Kendra." She pulls me back into another hug, her hand stroking my hair as she says "you can't get rid of me. I'm always going to be here to nag and push your buttons."

I laugh, the noise a little distorted because I'm still crying but the grief and worry has lifted from my heart slightly.

"You do a very good job at it." I tell her.

She laughs as we pull apart and offers me a pack of Kleenex from her purse.

"Speaking of nagging, I'm sorry I was so hard on you about adopting Holt." She tucks her hair behind her ear, eyes dropping to the floor as I blot my eyes. "You're right, I didn't understand. And I should have trusted you."

I reach for her hand, the two of us leaving the store without really shopping.

"I've been researching." She looks at me as we walk. "Have you thought of an emotional support animal?"

I haven't. The idea never even crossed my mind.

"Chris has a cousin who is dating this woman who is trying to get her hamster certified as one so she can take it places for her "social anxiety" which I think is a little ridiculous but.." she rolls her eyes and I find a small amount of amusement in her inability to keep her opinions to herself. "Maybe a dog? I've read a bunch of articles on emotional support dogs helping veterans with ptsd. Maybe it'd help Holt too."

I feel excitement swell inside me at the thought of it helping Holt, like really helping. Maybe it'll allow him to make greater progress, quicker. Or maybe it'll just make him feel more secure. Either way I don't need to think about it. I'm on board. And I know Rhett will be too. We both grew up with dogs, his passing away while he was in college, mine I left with my parents. A little terrier that ended up loving my dad more than my mom. Occasionally my mom jokes that my dad died of a broken heart over that dog rather than the heart attack that actually took him.

"That is brilliant."

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"So what do you think?" I ask Rhett and Holt later that night.

Rhett looks at me than Holt, eyebrows knit together. "Do you want to pick her name?"

He's on edge, staring at the countertop. His shoulders shrug. "I-I don't know."

"I want you to feel apart of this." I lean against the counter. "And I thought maybe it'd be nice if her brother picked her name."

He nods a little, avoiding eye contact with both of us as he asks "what if you don't like it?"

"I'm sure we will love whatever you come up with." I'm confident that we will.

I don't see Holt making decisions lightly, especially something like this.

"What if we all pick a name?" Rhett suggest. "And then we can vote."

Excitement bounces within me as I allow myself to enjoy this moment. To let myself think of names and slowly start planning, trying to take Meghan's advice, even if I am still terrified of all the possible outcomes.

"I love that idea." I reach for his hand and he takes mine from across the counter. "What do you think Holt?"

"Yes ma'am." He says.

I frown a little at his words, offering him reassurance "you're safe Holt".

He swallows hard.

"No one's ever going to hurt you here son." Rhett adds, squeezing my hand even though both of our attention is on Holt. "Coach Mo sent me a picture of your new jersey, how do you like it?"

"Good sir."

I already sent the photo in to enlarge it so I can hang it on the wall.

"Do you want to hang your old jersey up? I could get a frame for it and you can put it in your room." I offer.

He shakes his head no instantly.

"Why not?" Rhett asks.

He takes a strained breath, lifting his eyes up to mine. They're filled with anger, something I've never seen from him and for a moment my breath catches in my throat.

"I hate Holt Jacobs."

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I'm not complaining but I'm curious. How does Owen have 29k views and Mina has 8k? Did everyone just not bother to find out the rest of the story 🤣. Like that massive cliffhanger I left in Owen is totally acceptable. No questions, not even a little curious. Haha bunch of weirdos up in here apparently. I read a story and I want all the characters back stories, future premonitions, pointless scenes, an article of clothing, their birth certificate, a lock of hair, whatever. Just keep it going.