Lincoln stepped up, covering Josie’s eyes. “Nope, none of that, or else you’re gonna start crying again. We’ve already had three tantrums before leaving the house, and only one of those was Stella’s.”
Josie turned in his hold, pushing at his chest. “I only cried once, you ass.” Lincoln stared at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Okay, twice, but calling them tantrums is a bit much.”
“Are you talking about my grandbaby?” Mom said. She had a glass of wine in one hand and a baby blanket in the other, which she shook at Lincoln. “Don’t you go forgetting this now.”
Lincoln grabbed it from her hold. “Oh, thank god. We wouldn’t have made it far without this.”
Lennox stepped up to my other side, resting her chin on my shoulder. She stared down at Stella like she was in love, and I couldn’t blame her. “My ovaries are literally aching right now,” she said, turning toward Bishop. “I want one.”
The frustration from her earlier antics was gone as he said, “Let’s get through the wedding first, killer.”
“You’re not getting any younger, old man. Gotta strike while the iron is hot and all that,” she teased, motioning down to his crotch.
“Lord, what did I do to deserve this cruel punishment?” Dad mumbled, sending everyone into a fit of giggles.
I could help but smile at how much love was in the room, and how lucky Stella was to be surrounded by it. Watching my sister become a mother was surreal. Because I was the oldest, I assumed I would be the first to have babies. The first to explore motherhood in all its spit-up-covered glory, so if Josie and Lennox decided to walk the path, they wouldn’t have to do it alone.
But being here amidst all the happiness and jokes and future promises also reminded me I was painfully alone. I had no one to plan for the future with. Even if I did, it wouldn’t change the fact that motherhood was never going to be in the cards for me, no matter how much I wanted it to be.
Stella yawned and began kicking her little feet as I held her. Small, frustrated grunts had her parents immediately tensing. Before my sister could swoop in, Lincoln beat her to it. He pulled the crying baby gently into his arms before giving Josie a stern look. “I’ve got her,” he said, stepping forward to press a kiss to her head. “You have fun tonight, okay?”
Josie bit her lip, looking like she wanted to argue but didn’t. She nodded her head and sucked in a deep breath. “Alright,” she mumbled. “But will you let me know if she needs me?”
Lincoln’s eyes softened. “Of course, darlin’.”
I excused myself as everyone said their goodbyes, walkingswiftly to the kitchen where there was an unopened bottle of tequila ready for margaritas. Tapping my fingers against the counter, I eyed it warily. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but certain occasions called for it. Surely it was warranted on a girl’s night, right?
Without thinking, I popped off the cap and poured a shot into one of the plastic cups on the counter. They were bright pink, which made sense since they screamed Lennox. I downed the liquor, letting the warm burn settle all the way into my stomach.
“Starting without me?” Lennox pouted, strutting into the kitchen with confidence and grace. “How rude. Everyone knows it’s not a party until I’ve given a toast.”
“Is that really necessary?” Mom asked, following her in.
Lennox gasped in faux shock. “Of course, it is! How could you say that?”
“I don’t know where you got your flair for the dramatic. It must be your father.”
Lennox and I shared a look before busting out laughing. “Mom, you are the most extra person I’ve ever met,” she said.
“Present company excluded,” I added, nodding toward my youngest sister, who stuck her tongue out at me. “I rest my case.”
“I am not!” Mom cried. “I’m just?—”
“Passionate?” Josie finished for her, joining the fray. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and it looked like she’d been crying. This was her first time truly being away from Stella, which I imagined was hard after having every moment of her life dedicated to her daughter.
Mom crossed her arms over her chest. “What on Earth have I ever done to be considered dramatic?”
“Well, you make us coordinate and match for every holiday,” I said.
“And you get done up like you’re going to the PBR or something every time you go into town,” Josie added.
“I do not?—”
“Oh yes, you do,” we all said at once.
“Need we remind you about the time you threw yourself your own birthday party because you thought we had all forgotten? When in reality, we’d spent weeks planning a surprise party and you ended up ruining the surprise because all your friends were confused about when and where to show up,” Lennox deadpanned.
Mom glowered at each of us and snatched the bottle of tequila from my hand. “Give your damn speech then,” she grumbled, pouring each of us a shot of the clear liquid.
