Page 23 of Terms and Traditions

It took a minute before Paisley messaged back.

PAISLEY

Yes, sorry. Give us a sec. Jules needs to be surgically removed from her husband. Are all newlyweds this bad?

Liz leaned back against her pink floral pregnancy pillow, which she swore saved her back, and chomped on a sweet potato chip, laughing as I tilted my phone for her to read. “She’s one to talk! Do you remember how smitten she was—both times?”

We laughed a little uncomfortably. Paisley’s first husband wasn’t a topic we discussed often, because… as Nana often said, sometimes the nicest thing you could say about someone was nothing at all. But she’d found love again—with a good man this time—in Greyson Satterfield. Yes, Cal Satterfield’s twin and another one of Juliet’s endless supply of older, rather attractive brothers. He was a veteran Marine turned mechanic. Our friend group clearly had a thing for mechanics, first with Paisley and Greyson and now with Liz and Ben.

“You and Ben get things sorted out with Carey?” I asked, popping a grape into my mouth.

Liz shrugged. “Maybe? It’s a work in progress, but Ben and I are on the same page.” A dreamy smile spread across her face. “You should have seen the way he stood up to his mother, defending me. ‘She’s my first priority, even from you,’ were the words he used.” Liz fanned herself. “A girl can get used to that kind of knight in grease and coveralls.”

I laughed with her before leaning over and wrapping her in a hug.

Liz’s laptop chimed with an incoming call, and I scrambled to accept it before she tried to use her toes to click the touchpad—gross. But when Juliet and Paisley’s familiar faces flooded the screen, nothing else mattered. We were together again for a night.

“Hey!” That bright smile could only be Paisley’s, next to Juliet’s usual storm cloud. From the looks of it, they were in Paisley’s cozy living room tonight. She had a killer eye for making a space welcoming.

“Myles keep you too long, Jules?” Liz teased, biting into a cheese cube.

Juliet glared through the screen, her already-flushed face reddening. “I’m not apologizing for finding my husband attractive, especially after his epically hot goalie moves in the net tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, go Chargers,” Paisley drolled, then impishly squished Juliet’s cheeks together so she looked like a fish. “We’re very proud of our boys.”

Juliet swatted at her and rolled her eyes, but the hint of a grin tugged at her lipstick-smudged bright pink lips.

Liz and I snickered at their antics. “Glad you’re with us,” I said. “You got snacks?”

“Chocolate mint tea, candy cane cookies, Nanaimo bars, and artichoke dip with crackers,” Juliet said, nudging Paisley. “None of which she burnt.”

“Hey, I can cook!” Paisley protested, crossing her arms. “Maybe not as well as Liz, but I haven’t actually burnt something since before I was married. That counts for something.”

We all busted up laughing, remembering some of her earlier cooking disasters—we were talking firefighters-being-called mishaps. I picked up two bottles of nail polish. Hmm… red for festive or silver for subtlety?

“All right, ladies,” Juliet said, taking charge. “Do we have our colours picked?”

“Seductive Wine for me.” I jiggled the bottle of deep burgundy. “Who names these things, seriously?”

Liz swiped the silver from me. “Silver Bells. Ooh, I like that!”

“My usual,” Juliet said, fluttering her fingers. “Black French tips. To match my heart apparently.”

Paisley nudged her. “And yet we still love you, Grinchy. I’m not painting mine because I don’t have any nails long enough to paint.” She ducked her head sheepishly.

“Things been stressful, Pais?” I asked, uncapping the base coat polish to get started on Liz’s nails.

Paisley shrugged, adjusting her position on the couch to sit cross-legged as she started on Juliet’s. “The holidays are always insane at the library, but not more than usual. I’m just… maybe a little unsettled.” She chewed on her lip as she said nothing for a few moments. “I thought I was pregnant.”

“Oh, honey,” Liz said sympathetically.

“I was kinda hoping, you know? We’ve been married three years now. But… I don’t know, at the same time, I was scared I might be. I don’t know how to be a mom since my mom didn’t either. Sure, I had some great foster moms, but…” Paisley shrugged again.

“You’ll be a great mother,” Juliet said with a no-argument tone. “Whatever that looks like—biological or adoption.”

“Didn’t Gabe and Ivy adopt?” Paisley asked me.

I nodded. Because Greyson and Gabe were both Marines, they knew each other. Before Greyson retired a few years ago, he’d been stationed at Gabe’s last base. “Yup, all four. And you’d never know those kids weren’t their biological kids, besides their looks.”