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“Various things. Descriptions for online stores, resumes, stuff like that. Just do the odd gig here and there.”
“Oh, cool. I didn’t know you were a writer. Austin, did you know Jada is a writer?”
“Nope,” Austin says, shooting his sister a dirty look.
“Have some food,” she offers.
“No, really, thanks, I ate.”
“We ordered way too much. Me and the kids leave in the morning, so you won’t have to cook for days for yourself and my brother.” She starts spooning chicken fried rice onto a clean plate and slides it in front of me.
“Honest, I just ate, Adele. I’m full.” I put my hand on my belly.
“Oh. Did you go to see your family for Sunday dinner?” she asks and then takes a bite of an egg roll.
“No,” I say. “Definitely not. Don’t have a Sunday dinner kind of family.”
She looks at me with questions in her eyes.
And I wish I could take that last statement back.
“Adele, don’t be nosy,” Austin reprimands, digging around in a square cardboard container with his chopsticks.
“I was at the cemetery and the park,” I say softly.
Adele’s expression drops.
“It’s the third anniversary of someone’s death,” I explain. “Someone who was close to me, so I visited his grave and did some other things to remember him, including having certain food in a certain place.”
I purposely avoid looking at Austin.
Adele’s face falls. “I’m so sorry. Auzzie’s right; I am a Nosy Parker. Sorry Jada.”
“It’s okay.”
“Was it a relative?”
“And she gets nosier,” Austin mutters.
“Shush,” she waves a hand at him. “I ask because I care.”
I shake my head. “My last boyfriend.”
My eyes bounce to Austin.
His eyes are on me.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Adele says. “Your last boyfriend died three years ago?”
I nod and look away from Austin back to his sister.
“Who died?” Braeden calls out.
“Nobody you know, sweetie,” Adele calls over.
“That’s sad,” Braeden says. “That someone died. How did they die?”
“A bad car accident,” I say.
The little guy wanders over. “How? Did the car crash?”
“Braed, let’s go watch your show. This is something personal to Jada so we don’t want to make her sad by trying to make her talk about it. Skedaddle,” Austin orders.
“Okay. Sorry Jada,” Braeden says.
And a lump forms in my throat. “Thanks sweetie,” I manage.
Austin hauls Braeden onto his shoulder, making the little boy squeal happily. They head to the couch.
Adele reaches over and squeezes my hand.
I blink hard to stop the tears from falling. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really wanna be alone,” I say.
She nods. “Of course, I’m sorry. I have a question, but… I’ll ask you later.”
“Ask,” I whisper.
She looks hesitant.
“It’s okay,” I encourage her.
“I wanted to ask if you can help me to the airport in the morning with the kids. It was a disaster coming here with them alone. I’ll pay for your time, buy you breakfast, and pay for your taxi back. If you can’t, don’t worry. Sorry to ask, I just know Auz has an early-morning meeting and I could just use a hand with the kids and luggage.”
“Oh, you don’t have to pay me to do that. I’ll help. Gladly,” I say.
She smiles brightly and squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jada.”
“Thanks. It’s been three years, so I’m okay. I just… I like to remember him on the anniversary, and I guess I’m not used to talking about that.” I’m not. I typically do my thing and no one notices, not even Shane, who was best friends with Josh.
“I can only imagine,” she says with kindness seeping out of her pores.
I really like Adele.
“See you in the morning,” I say. “I’m happy to help.”
“Okay,” she whispers, giving me a sad smile.
I hop off the stool and hurry toward my room, sparing a glance at the gorgeous baby on the floor with the block in her mouth, drool coming out. I wave at her and she reaches for me.
I stumble, almost tripping, and Austin is magically there, catching me, hands on my shoulders.
“Whoa,” he says.
“Oops.” I return and our eyes meet. And lock.
“Wah!” the baby exclaims.
I tear my gaze away from him. She’s got both arms up, reaching for me, bouncing a little on her bottom.
Shoot.
“How could I turn that down?” I ask, ready to pick her up.
“I got her,” Austin says.
“Oh. Okay, thanks.”
He lets go of me, and I feel the loss of it and the disappointment I can’t have baby-time. I hurry to my room, blowing a kiss at the baby before I go.
As I close the door, I see Austin scoop her up off the floor. He blows a raspberry on her belly and she breaks into giggles.
Boom! There go my ovaries.
***
And at the end of a long, emotional day, I let myself indulge, because I deserve it. I let myself indulge in writing without embarrassment, a fantasy in which Joshua is still here. He’s finishing college and has a great job offer on the west coast, so we get a house on the water. And we learn to surf, something we talked about.
