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Thea shakes her head and her eyes meet Xander’s. They blow out the candle together and Xael claps her hands, exclaiming a gurgled, “Yay!”
Thea removes the candle and Xander pushes the cake closer to her.
“Go for it,” he tells her.
Xael puts her hand in the icing and in the blink of an eye she slaps her hand against the corner of Xander’s mouth and cheek. Xander looks stone faced for a moment before he breaks out in a grin.
“Just like her mother.” He shakes his head and wipes the icing off with a finger before sticking it in his mouth.
Xael smacks her chubby hand into the cake, completely destroying it. She grabs a handful of cake and shoves it in her mouth. Most of it ends up splattered on her face and clothes, but since she’s a baby she looks adorable and not like a drunk sorority girl.
“Anyone want cake?” Thea points to the other cake.
Jace’s hand shoots into the air. “I’m always game for cake.”
I shake my head and stifle a laugh. Jace’s love for cake is as amusing as it is endearing.
“So, cake for everyone else and none for Jace?” Thea asks, meeting all of our eyes.
“Careful,” I tell her, “if you don’t give him any, he’ll steal mine.”
“Jace would steal cake from his pregnant girlfriend?” She sounds doubtful.
Jace shrugs and nods. “Cake is a serious matter.”
Thea sighs in resignation, “Isn’t everything?”
Nova
Jace and I walk down the street, hand in hand.
It’s April, but the weather is surprisingly nice. It’s well over fifty, which is practically a heat wave after the chill of winter. There a couple of clouds, promising those dreaded April showers, but for now the sun is fighting against them and winning.
I smile at him, a slight bounce to my steps.
I radiate happiness and it feels good, addicting.
We duck into our favorite café close to our house.
The thing I love most about living in the city is the close access we have to places like this.
We take a seat and don’t even bother picking up a menu.
Our usual waitress heads over. “The usual?”
We both nod. “Thanks,” I say as she walks away.
Jace leans back in his seat. “That stroller is a fucking nightmare. It’s worse than the crib. Who the fuck designed it? Thea on one of her caffeine highs?”
I laugh and shake my head. “It can’t be that difficult.”
“Easy for you to say. You only stand there and watch me.”
I laugh, it’s true. But he usually gets frustrated, tears off his shirt, and pulls at his hair so it’s mussed. I have to admit, it kind of makes me think naughty thoughts.
“I’ve been working on it for two hours and I think I’ve maybe put two pieces together, and I don’t even know if I did those right.”
“You’ll get it,” I tell him. “Maybe Xander can help?” I suggest.
