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“What’s that?” Charlotte asks, tugging on my sleeve.
I show it to her. “That’s your new cousin, Char.”
“Oh, okay.” She nods and casually goes back to eating.
I laugh. “Well, I’m excited for you, Evey.”
Vincent fills Zachary’s bowl with salad and slides out of his chair to go check on the chicken. I give him a smug smile. He pretends not to notice it.
I turn back to Evey, lowering my voice for girl talk. “Baby number two,” I say, smiling.
“Baby number two,” she repeats, her smile much wider.
“Girl or boy?”
“Well, I always kind of wanted boys,” she says, her eyes slowly turning toward Charlotte. “But after her…”
“I love having a little girl,” I say, looking at her. “Boys are pretty awesome, don’t get me wrong, but the ratio of things Zach destroyed compared to the damage Charlotte has done…”
“Amen to that.” She laughs. “So, what do you think?”
I tilt my head. “Think about what?”
“You ever going for baby number two?”
I hum a response. I can’t even begin to think about that right now. “I don’t know,” I finally say. “We’ll see.”
She lays her warm hand on mine. “Well, if you do, let us know. Not that we have any say or anything, but as a happy, willing, frequent caregiver who also runs her own business and owns half of another one currently expanding…”
“I’ll definitely alert you if I plan on dropping more free babysitting on your and Vincent’s already tight schedule.”
She raises her glass of water. “Thank you.”
Vincent returns with two plates in his hands. He lays one down in front of Evey and the other in front of me. My senses explode from the sight and smell of my brother’s delicious chicken parmesan.
“Dinner is served, ladies,” he says.
Evey grabs her fork. “I have been waiting for this all day long.”
“This looks amazing!” I say. “Took it out just in time, huh?”
He ignores the petty jab and reaches out to pinch Charlotte’s cheek, making her giggle. “Kid-sized portions coming right out,” he says.
My heart beats warmth from my head to my toes. Charlotte adores her uncle and I couldn’t ask for a better father figure for my daughter.
Still, I wonder how her life would be different if Mommy could ever get her personal shit together long enough to keep a man around. One who’s strong and smart. Good cook would be a plus. Great with kids is a straight-up requirement. Attractive, obviously.
I slice off a chunk of chicken and put it in my mouth. I’m as picky with men as I am with my food, but, as usual, Vincent nailed it.
He comes back with the kids’ plates and sets them down. “How is it?” he asks us.
Evey just gives him a thumbs up, her mouth completely full.
I twist my hand back and forth. “Eh…”
He rolls his eyes and walks back into the kitchen to make his own plate.
Sense of humor, I think as I take another delicious bite. My man would need one of those, too.
