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“He seems to be getting along with the guys,” Bridget pointed out, as if there was a possibility he wouldn’t survive happy hour.
They had pints of beer and two baskets of demolished mozzarella sticks between them.
“He’s a nice guy.”
“Nice? Who wants nice?” Mallory pushed.
I set my hand on my chest. After class, I threw on a pale blue zip-up hoodie over my yoga top and now I fiddled with the zipper. “I do. I’m sick of assholes.”
“Whatever happened to her blind date?” Bridget asked Mallory, giving her a pointed stare.
“Yeah, what happened with him?” I repeated. She never gave me an update.
Mallory rolled her eyes. “I texted Ronald. He said he lost track of time. Forgot.”
“See?” I said, pointing at her.
“He’s a radiologist and works in a dark room all day,” she countered, as if that was a good legitimate reason.
I shook my head. “That’s not an excuse.”
“It’s not,” Mallory confirmed. “At least you didn’t get engaged to him like that guy Duncan. At least Ronald showed how much of a lazy ass he was right at the start. I mean, how long were you with Duncan?”
Yeah, that was embarrassing. Shame, not wine, heated my cheeks. They knew about Duncan, but I’d left out the ring burial. I’d been mortified enough that I hadn’t seen the signs that I did the whole ring burial, cleansing thing solo.
“Anyway, I told Ronald he’s a dick and told Theo that he’s a dick. I feel really confident that when Theo sees him next at the hospital, he’s also going to tell him to his face he’s a dick.”
“No dicks for you,” Bridget said, then giggled. “Well, one dick, but the good kind.”
We turned to eye Luke as a collective female unit. Yeah, he had a really good kind of dick, and I wanted it again.
Mac stood and I looked over my shoulder to see why. In came Georgia and his son, Andy.
Georgia, who was so pretty in her pale pink dress, matching shoes, and accessories, went right to Mac and kissed him. Mac’s hand went right to her ass.
“Hi, Aspen!” Andy, probably used to them smooching a little in front of him, ignored them and came right over to me, his smile big. His two front teeth were starting to grow in, and they were all cockeyed and jack-o'-lantern like. I had a feeling he was going to need some serious orthodontics in a few years.
I couldn’t help but smile back because he was a sweet, happy boy. “Hi, sweetheart. How’s it going?”
“Good. Is Sierra here?” He looked around for her, as if she was hiding somewhere.
I pouted, suddenly missing my little girl all over again. “No, she’s at hockey sleepaway camp until next week.”
“Oh.” He pouted, too. While he was only six, he and Sierra hung out often enough to be buddies. “When I get big, I’m going to go to camp at the Kids Corp. But not hockey because I’m not doing no sleepaways. I’m gonna be a big brother and I have to stay and take care of my baby sister.” He puffed out his chest and patted it, so dang proud.
I looked to Georgia, who’d only shared she was expecting a few weeks earlier. When I was pregnant with Sierra, I’d had my head in the toilet bowl for the first trimester, but Georgia practically glowed. Or it could be the amazing foundation and moisturizer she used.
“It could be a boy,” Georgia said to Andy in a way that made me think they’d had this discussion before.
Andy shook his head. “Nah. It’s a girl. Boys look out for girls. Either way, GG’s going to feed the baby with her nipples.”
My eyes widened at his pronouncement and I bit my lip so I didn’t laugh.
“Andy,” Mac warned. “No nipple talk in public, remember?”
“You just said it!” he pointed out.
I glanced at Georgia who only shook her head. This wasn’t the first time, I assumed, she’d heard that from his precocious mouth.
