Page 77 of More Than My Hometown

Maybe he’s rubbing off on her…

The rest of the group burst into laughter, so loud and unsynchronized, bouncing off the bare walls and echoing through the room. The sound reverberates through me, surrounding me, tackling me like a linebacker in the championship game with everything on the line. Giving in, I let it all out, a roar escaping, until I can’t breathe I’m laughing so hard.

“It’s I like a big mouth on my rod,” I correct her, trying to catch my breath.

“Eh, I think my version works just as well.”

Her perfectly straight face makes me lose it all over again. Holy shit, I think I just fell in love with Sawyer.

“How do we get that shirt made?” Margeaux asks, still laughing.

“Right, because you, Little Miss I’m Going to Take Over the World is going to wear that on a T-shirt?” Dolly teases.

“I'd wear it around the house…for Gus,” Margeaux tosses back.

“Ew, no. I don’t want to know about what you wear for Gus.” Emily sneers. “He’s my older brother’s best friend. There's a line and that’s it.”

We all burst into laughter again. If this keeps up, my sides may actually split open.

“Seriously, though,” Brenna chimes in. “I think it would be funny. Can you just imagine the boys’ faces if all us wives showed up to Sunday dinner wearing that?”

Just one problem there, Brenna…

“Not all of us are wives,” I point out.

To be fair, Brenna and Margeaux aren’t married yet. But they will be soon enough. There are rings on their fingers. Dates are set. As far as anyone is concerned, they are Hayes women in all but actual on paper legal status. Sawyer and I, however…

“Yet,” Dolly quips. “Sawyer just caught the bouquet, and do not for one second pretend like you’re not halfway to negotiating a baby name list.”

I purse my lips. She’s got me there. Actually, there’s no negotiating that. The list is set. Ewan might get a veto or two if he can provide a valid argument, but the list is made. To be fair, though, I think he’ll be in agreement with me, since it does feature plenty of Hayes family names.

“Wait, you’re going to allow negotiations on that?” Brenna asks, genuinely curious.

“No,” Dolly, Margeaux, and I answer in unison, then burst into laughter again.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket, interrupting the moment. I pull it out, ready to dismiss the call, enjoying my time with the girls too much, when the number catches my eye. InterCon MediTrust. My employer.

My pulse jumps, a lump forming in my throat. This can’t be good.

“I need to take this,” I say to no one in particular, eyes still glued to the number flashing on my phone.

Stepping away, I walk around the corner into the entryway of the house, giving myself some room to be able to hear.

“Hello?”

“Maisey? It’s Cathy Marshall from InterCon MediTrust. How are you?”

“Hey, Cathy.”

My insides relax, my muscles unclenching as a mini wave of relief hits. Of all the contract coordinators at InterCon MediTrust, Cathy is one of my favorites. Always so easy to work with, understanding that we are actually humans that have needs rather than robots. She also isn’t so hard and fast with all the rules, keeping us boxed in with the red tape like some of the others that I’ve worked with over the years. Even when delivering the bad news about our contracts being cut short, she was patient and understanding with us—just as frustrated as we were about the whole situation—and worked to make sure that those of us affected were taken care of. Truth be told, if she had any interest in practicing medicine, she’d make a damn good nurse.

“I’m good. Really good, actually.” I smile, letting my happiness flow through me and into my response.

“You sound it. Seems like this extended break has been good to you.”

“Extremely.” Looking over at the girls—my sisters—my heart fills again. This extended break, as Cathy called it, has been exactly what I needed.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it, especially after how Nicaragua ended.”