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That event had been exactly nothing like this. It had been broke college kids throwing up streamers and blowing up drugstore balloons.
“You’re totally fine,” she said. “It’s just me that shouldn’t be wearing black.” Then she rushed off, flustered, when someone asked her where she wanted the tables set up.
This was obviously not a good time to ask her what the hell I should do about Sean and my constant overwhelming urges to get naked with him.
Michael was in the kitchen, hand in the fridge. He slammed it shut, looking guilty, then relieved when he realized it was me.
“Hi, Michael, how are you holding up?”
“Sorry, I thought you were Felicia. I didn’t want her to catch me eating the sushi I had delivered. She can’t eat it right now.” He tossed a piece of sashimi into his mouth. “So I’m not supposed to either, in solidarity. Don’t rat me out, please.”
“I never rat anyone out about food. No worries.” I glanced around their massive kitchen. “Did the delivery truck arrive yet? I wanted to get started prepping.” They were serving passed appetizers, then a sit-down dinner for forty.
“No, not yet. Sean isn’t here yet either.” Michael nodded toward the living room. “Can you tell we’re having a girl?”
“I don’t think it’s obvious at all.”
He grinned. “I can’t help it. I can’t say no to Felicia. If she wants eight hundred pink balloons, she can have them.”
I tried to imagine having a man in my life who wanted me to be happy so much he allowed his home to be fully engulfed in an avalanche of pink latex and live florals. “She’s very lucky.”
He gave a snort. “Are you kidding? I’m the lucky one. She’s amazing.”
That was love. I wondered what would happen if I ever opened myself up to the possibility. Would that mean someday I would have a pink baby shower?
I doubted it. I wanted a more rock ‘n’ roll baby shower. You know. Someday. If I had kids. Which I’d never given a ton of thought too. It seemed premature to contemplate bringing a child into the world when I was single as fuck.
An image of Sean talking to Kennedy popped into my head. He was going to make a great uncle. A great father, if he ever wanted to have kids. Not that I should be thinking about Sean’s fictitious future with a woman who wouldn’t be me.
“Sean’s texting me,” Michael said. “He’s downstairs. Let me go let him in.”
“Sure.” I wandered into the living room and marveled at the changes in Felicia’s life in such a short time. Was that how it went?
One day you were doing your thing solo and then suddenly bam. Love hit you between the eyes. You had balloons and babies and sushi-bans because of love.
I heard Sean’s voice coming up the stairs from the ground level. I had no idea why but I panicked and ran away, darting into the powder room.
“What the hell was that? Get yourself together,” I told my image in the mirror. “He’s the enemy. He’s your boss. He can get you fired and render you homeless.”
The woman reflected back at me didn’t look like she gave a shit about consequences. Or that she believed a word I was saying.
Nope. She looked like she might have taken that hit between the eyes.
“How is your lovely wife?” I asked my brother, Michael, as I kicked off my shoes in the entry to his brownstone. Felicia had a thing about shoes in the house and I didn’t need another female annoyed with me. Dealing with Isla was hard enough, though I had some hope I was making headway there.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Michael said, frowning at me. “You’re not taking your shoes off for a baby shower.”
“What?” I asked, glancing up. “I thought that’s what she wanted. I’m not a total asshole.” Felicia made my brother happy. That was very obvious. She had also been nothing but nice to me and now she was expecting my niece. I had exactly zero issues with Felicia these days. Even when I was right, it seemed I was wrong.
Michael made a sound like he didn’t believe me. “She’s upstairs fretting about this party, so tread lightly, please. I’m begging you. Pregnancy hormones have her bursting into tears at least once a day.”
Great. “So you’re sending me into a minefield. Thanks.” I peeled my jacket off and hung it on the hooks by the door. I put my shoes back on.
The brownstone was class New York City. Soaring ceilings, elaborate molding, double doors. This one had been renovated before Michael and Felicia had moved in a month or two earlier and Felicia had been busy filling it with furniture, art, and personal items. Despite the inherent grandeur it was very homey and felt lived in. I gave Felicia credit for that because prior to meeting her, my brother had lived in a sterile box devoid of personality and clinging to remnants of his long-deceased wife’s style.
“I guess I should be grateful you chose me to do the food.” Felicia had insisted this event be coed and more dinner party than baby shower, but I was just thrilled to be in the kitchen cooking instead. I had only a vague idea of what went down at baby showers and I wanted no part of it.
“Well. You’re doing it with Isla.” My brother gave me a grin.
