I laugh softly to myself and start drawing my route cards when Cooper’s phone gives a loud ping, and he guffaws with glee.
“Holy sh—holy cow. Leg Tears is on for the wedding!” Cooper announces, tossing his phone on the table and raising his hands in victory.
I practically spit out my tea. To be honest, I’d suggested it mostly to embarrass Cooper, not thinking he’d actually take it seriously.
My mom drops her pile of cards, then fumbles to pick them up. I watch her reassemble her face into politeness. “Cooper, you don’t want to be drumming during your own wedding, though, do you?”she says placatingly, but there’s an underlying note of panic in her voice.
“I’ll just play a few of the hits.” He taps out a riff on the table with his fingers. “And then Bryan’ll step in on drums.”
“Leg Tears like…” Nate is clearly trying to figure out what liquid is causing the leg tears. Which, ew.
“Can someone just take their turn?” Linney says, gesturing at the messy board game. “Nikki, isn’t it yours?”
I smile at her and draw two train cards, then turn to Nate. “Cooper has always said the ambiguity of the band name is what makes the name so good,” I explain.
“Ah,” Nate replies diplomatically. “That’s… very open to interpretation. Very cool.”
“Yeah,” Cooper cuts in, oblivious to the fact that we’re ragging on him. “Like, are you scared of how good we play, or turned on? Is it pee, or is it—”
“Cooper.” Mom’s voice cracks across the table.
Cooper clears his throat. “You get it.” He lays down six black trains, totally blocking my path to Kansas. Ugh, rude.
I glance over at Cara, expecting horrified disgust, but instead she has a look of charmed amusement. “That’s hilarious, babe.”
Is it just me or did she direct her comment moremyway than Coop’s?
“Thanks, babe. I’ll play you some of our recordings later. It’s your turn.”
“I’d love that.” Cara looks like she genuinely means it, and I can’t keep the horrified disgust off ofmyface. She must really have it bad. Or she’s an excellent actress.
Then she looks right in my eyes as she lays down four red trains…exactlywhere I was going to go next.
Bitch! I think. Then internally tell myself to calm down. It’s just agame. A game I happen to be pretty damn good at. I take a swig of sweet tea and try to guess at what her route must be.
“Uncle Coop,” William cuts in while I’m concentrating on the board. “Are you and Aunt Cara having a baby?”
“William!” He ducks as Linney swats a card at his arm. “Honey, what did I say about that?”
“I’m justasking!” he protests. “Because you and Uncle Pete said that may—”
Linney flushes to her hairline and throws a glance at Pete, who is trying not to laugh. “We said no such thing, William. That’s enough, or no dessert.”
“You have to bemarriedto have a baby,” Anna Carol says, playing with two pink trains, pretending to make them kiss.
“That’s absolutely right,” Linney agrees, with a stern glance around the table as if daring any of us to contradict her.
“No, you don’t,” William pipes in. “My friend JD told me that sperm shoots out of—”
“Who wants ice cream?” Linney stands so abruptly that a bunch of the train routes fall over on the board.
“Oh, me! Me!” the kids both shout, following her into the kitchen.
“We are not pregnant,” a blushing Cara assures everyone as the door to the kitchen closes behind Linney and the kids.
Cooper curls an arm around the back of Cara’s chair protectively. “We just know.”
“And when you know you want to spend forever with someone, you want forever to start right away,” Cara says. “Doesn’t it go something like that?
