Page 9 of Born to be Wilder

Our breath fogged the cold morning air as Doris, Alice, and I stood on the sidewalk in front of my house with our spouses and suitcases, staring down the empty street like we were waiting for a train we weren’t entirely sure was coming.

Alice looked at her diamond-encrusted watch. “It’s exactly nine o’clock. Marge said to be here at nine o’clock sharp. Where the hell is she?”

“Did she tell anyone what time our flight was at?” Doris shivered, and Axel wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder, giving her a little squeeze that made her smile.

I looked up and down the street for any sign of Marge, but there was nothing but the snow piled up along the edges of Wilder Lane, stubborn drifts that refused to admit winter was losing.

“She didn’t tell us anything. Just to be here right now. She was very vague… and laughing a lot last night when we talked. Which makes me incredibly nervous.”

“Knowing Marge is planning this makes me more nervous than my cancer does. She’s more likely to be the death of me.”

I chuckled despite the dark humor that made my stomach drop. I pulled my coat tighter and looked at Alice, who had designer sunglasses on even though it was thirty-two degrees and overcast.

Alejandro, standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist, laughed too, but I saw it in his eyes. That same fear hidden in me was hidden in him as he tried to put on a brave face. His hand kept finding the small of her back, her shoulder, her hand—not possessively, just… there. Present. Like he needed the contact to know she was alive and still his.

He was terrified even though he hid it beautifully. He loved her so completely it was written all over him. Alice had spent so many years being the most stunning woman in any room, but with Alejandro, this might be the first time she was ever truly, quietly, desperately loved. He wasn’t dazzled by her. He just loved her. All of her. And she would need that in the coming months more than she’d ever needed anything.

Tom’s hand squeezed mine. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

He always knew what was going on in my head, and I loved him even more for it.

“I’m fine,” I said, though I wasn’t sure that was completely true.

“She said nine o’clock,” Doris pointed out. “She said have your bags packed and be ready. So, we’re ready.”

“Ready for what, though?” Alice tilted her head. “That is the question.”

“Maybe it’s a limo?” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed my own suggestion. “Like last time she had a limo for us, and she went all out on luxury.”

Tom smiled as he looked down at me. “Oh, my sweet, sweet Sylvie. I love how optimistic you are.”

I laughed and smacked him on the chest, my hand bouncing off his muscular pecs. “Shut up, Tom. Maybe she’s being nice.”

He pinched his lips and shrugged but then laughed softly through his nose.

“Roxie, come on, do you know anything?” I asked her.

Roxie, standing alone at the edge of our group, just shrugged. “I know nothing more than you do. She was working away on the computer all night and then took an Uber this morning and that’s it. That’s all I’ve got. She told me to be here too.”

“Damn it,” Alice grumbled. “Why did we let Marge handle the planning?”

“Well, she didn’t exactly give us a choice,” Doris pointed out.

“We’re here!” Rachel called, rushing down the street toward us, Emma propped on her hip and Blake in tow.

“Careful of the ice, honey!” Tom pointed to a patch in front of them.

Rachel and Blake moved around it, then arrived at us, panting.

“Thank God we made it! We didn’t want to miss saying goodbye, but Emma kept pulling off her socks.”

Emma, bundled in a snowsuit so puffy she resembled a small pink marshmallow, squealed when she saw us, reaching out with her mittened hands.

“Hi, baby,” Tom said to Rachel first, and kissed her head. Then he stole Emma from her arms. “And hi, baby, to you too.”

He kissed her several times, and she shrieked with delight as he lifted her up and down in the air, kissing her nose with each descent.

“Where’s Marge?” Blake asked, his arm around Rachel’s shoulder as he squinted, looking left and right down the street.