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Flynn and Jude groan, and I know it’s because they’re just as aware of what I’ve set off in the females of the family as I am. I wouldn’t be surprised if Daisy and Sophie and Rachel all join in now, trying to help poor, single Remy find the purpose for his life.
Although I did reach the five-word mark, it’s clear I’ve put a damper on the future prospects for the game when the women start to shift toward one another.
And when my phone starts to ring in my pocket? I immediately excuse myself and make my way off the deck and away from the Winslow women’s plotting. I don’t care if it’s a telemarketer at this point—I’m taking the call.
Someone who wants to sell me life insurance? Let’s do this.
One of those annoying fuckers who want to extend my car’s warranty? I’ll even give them the damn VIN number if it means they’ll keep me busy until Uncle Brad and Wes finish grilling the burgers. At least then, food might have the ability to keep my mom and sister too busy to play life coach.
I’m so amped for this distraction, I put the phone to my ear without looking at the screen to see who it is first.
“Hello?”
“The baby won’t stop crying! And my phone won’t stop ringing because I had a million work things to do and couldn’t! And I’m losing it!” The voice is feminine, frantic, and one I know like the back of my hand—Maria. “And I don’t think I know how to do both things at once, but if I don’t figure it out, Izzy and I are going to be homeless.” She pauses only very briefly to take a breath, but I don’t hesitate to cut in.
“Text me your address. I’m on my way.”
“Okay, maybe not homeless, but definitely need to move to something smaller,” she keeps rambling, apparently too worked up to even hear me. “And I can tell you right now, this place is big, but it already feels tiny with all the crying and vomit and toys and blankets and bottles. And Dr. Maddox said I should hire a nanny, but I can’t do that because I know that’s not what my sister wanted and I don’t even know my name anymore and I know it’s crazy of me to ask anything of you, given the fact that I already owe you my life, but I just didn’t know who to call or what to do or if I’m going to make it and I—”
“Maria,” I call with a little laugh, both to remind her of her name and to get her attention. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath. I’m on my way.”
“Wait… Really?”
“Just text me your address, and I’ll be there in thirty minutes, tops. Promise.”
“But what if I keel over from exhaustion between now and then?”
She’s teasing, I can tell, but I’m pretty sure she half believes it’s possible, too. The desperation in her voice is unmistakable.
“You won’t. Just hold on until I get there, okay?”
“Okay…and Remy?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“No thanks needed. I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up the phone with a small grin curling the corners of my mouth. Once I get her text with her apartment’s address, followed by the words “thank you” in all caps with twenty praising-hands emojis, I tuck my phone into my pocket with an amused shake of my head.
But when I turn around, everyone is looking at me.
And I do mean everyone.
I am a fish in a bowl.
“Uh…can I help you?” I ask, trying not to get too defensive right off the bat. With this much of the Winslow family interest piqued, that’ll only make it worse.
“You going somewhere?” Ty asks, a sly smirk on his face as he takes a pull of his beer. I bet the bastard heard me say her name, and now he thinks he knows a secret.
“Yeah, actually,” I admit simply. “A friend needs help.”
“A lady friend? By the name of Maria, maybe?” Jude asks smartly, a teasing titter in his voice, and making it apparent Ty wasn’t the only one who overheard my conversation. Sophie smacks him in the chest with the back of her hand, but his smile only grows. “What? It’s a simple, very easily answered question.”
If only these two idiots knew the truth.
“I probably won’t be back,” I say instead, approaching Lexi to give her a hug and a kiss on the top of her head.
She leans into the affection—something I feel privileged by since she doesn’t do that with everyone—and then calls me on my shit, just like she does with everyone else.
“Is Maria the Maria you dated in high school?”
“Um…” Surprise furrows my eyebrows. “How do you know about me dating Maria in high school?”
My brilliant niece doesn’t bat an eye, and I don’t miss the way the rest of the family is using their absolute highest concentration to listen.
