“How is that all going to work?” Callie sounds excited, which makes me excited.
“We agreed to hang out between now and my due date so we can plan for the baby. Like ‘friend dates.’ So we can get to know each other.”
“All very logical, and so you.” Hannah laughs and sips her wine. I chug a little bit from my Perrier and nod. “What happens if one of you falls for the other one? Have you factored that into your little ‘friend date’ algorithm?”
I shake my head. “It’s not going to happen. We have completely different lives. He has responsibilities in Willow Springs and boundary walls as high as an elephant’s eye. I’ma little surprised he even wants to be involved. And I have my career and you all here. Trust me, we are not a thing. Will never be a thing.”
“Really? You’re good with that?” Hazel’s question is so quiet, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who heard it.
“If she says she’s good, she’s good,” Dylan barks, grinning at me. But I don’t answer Hazel’s question. I can’t.
I want to be good with it, but a tiny part of me already has a soft spot for the rugged, stoic cowboy. I tell myself it’s just the hormones. I had no problem walking away from him after my birthday, so once I have the baby and the hormones subside, I’ll walk away again. That’s the plan, and I like a plan.
“It’ll be fine. Two responsible adults co-parenting and giving our baby the best life we can. No falling in love, no heartbreak. Just good parenting. Maybe everyone should do it this way.”
As I hear my argument, I wait for my sisters to punch holes in it. It does sound implausible, even to me. Especially given how easily I fell back into bed with Fitz. But we will behave from now on for the sake of the baby. We’re adults. We can do that.
“Well, I think it’s great,” Hazel says, raising her glass. “To the newest Demille—I hope it’s a girl!”
“Aw, I kinda hope so too,” I say, clinking my green bottle against my sister’s glasses. “We do girls well in this family.”
“Yes, we do!” Callie says. “I’m going to be the best aunt.”
“But not the favorite aunt. I get that designation,” Dylan says.
“We’ll see about that,” Callie taunts. They continue debating who has better auntie skills, and I sit back, watching my sisters like the mother hen I’ve always been. Maybe it’s good training for motherhood.
Because now everything feels much more real. Now that my sisters know, it seals the deal. I’m having a baby. We've been through every life situation together, and I need their support if I’m going to do this.
From all of their smiles, laughter, and guarantees, I know I have it.
CHAPTER 19
Fitz
Two MonthsLater
Four Months Pregnant
I’m not a city guy.I know this about myself, so it shouldn’t surprise me that I start feeling tense the moment the freeway traffic slows and a sea of brake lights reflects off my windshield.
Push through. It’ll be worth it.
I was there for Tessa’s last ultrasound via video chat, but I want to be there in person this time, especially when this appointment checks for chromosomal abnormalities. She’s nervous, which only adds to my own set of nerves.
So I focus on the traffic, counting how many out-of-state license plates I see—less than four—and how many Teslas are on the road—more than I can count.
Once I turn onto the coastal route, I lose my thoughts in the peaceful blue of the Pacific, endless and placid. Maybe that’s why people live down here. I can see the appeal of staring at that water. Kind of the way I feel when I look at Tessa’s pale-blue eyes—calm, centered. Even if I’m only looking at them on a screen during one of our daily video chats, where I pepper her with pregnancy facts I’ve gleaned online, and she tells me to chill. But I think she secretly loves it.
When I pull into a parking spot behind the doctor’s office building, Tessa is there on a bench waiting for me. She loops her arm through mine and leads me through the back door of the building, talking in a run-on sentence that begins before I close the door to my truck.
“Hey, how was the drive? Hope you didn’t hit too much traffic. The doctor usually runs a few minutes late, but it shouldn’t be too bad because we’re the first appointment after lunch. Did you eat, because…?” She pulls a granola bar from her purse, and I stop walking, forcing her to slow her roll.
“Hey,” I say, turning her to look at me. “Are you okay?”
She nods, cheeks flushed. “Yeah. You?”
“I’m great, but you’re fluttering around like a spring hummingbird, so if you’re about to tell me we’re having twins, just come out with it.”
