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“God, they are so handsome.” They watched the boys get out first, one strapping and muscular, the other leaner, both gorgeous. “And there’s mom. She’s gorgeous, too.”
“Thanks, Katrina,” Annie huffed. “I’d better get Chris.”
Glancing down at her attire, she was so angry with herself for wearing the worst possible clothes to paint in and then having to meet the ex. Ratty, tight leggings that didn’t leave much to the imagination in the derriere, and an even rattier University of Pensacola t-shirt, both covered with paint. She ran to the back of the house, finding Chris, Justin, and Dave fussing with the showerhead.
“Chris, I think Cindy and the boys are here,” Annie said, resting bitch face in place.
He looked up at her, frowning. “Wow. That’s weird.”
“We’ll get to meet our nephews,” Justin said, trying for positivity and having it miss its mark.
“The boys look exactly like you three,” Annie said, feeling emotional. “And mom is a Barbie doll.”
Chris, not amused, hugged her before he walked away, shaking his head at her comment.
Dave followed him out. “I’m not missing this,” he said.
“You okay?” Justin whispered to Annie when they were alone.
“What do you think?” Annie said, snarling. “I’m ready to kill someone.”
“Take my keys, and you and Kat go to Bayou Cottage,” he said, pushing his truck keys at her. “Hang out with Maggie. She’ll be pissed that she missed this.”
“I think I’d better stick around, in case of hanky panky,” she said, swatting his hand away.
Justin laughed, but there was a tinge of concern for his friend. He’d seen Annie as a therapist a couple of times recently and there was definitely a bond growing between them.
“I have some advice, Annie. You probably don’t want to hear it.”
She looked at him sidelong. It was out of character for Justin to ever intervene. Their professional relationship was all about him. He’d never offered any observation about her life, even now that she was engaged to his brother.
“I want to hear it. What?”
“I think you should ignore all this bullshit about the ex.”
“You do? Why?”
“It’s irrelevant. It has nothing to do with you. Chris is head over heels for you; you know that. He’s changed up his entire life for you. This thing with the ex is transient. Either she makes it or she dies. I read up on it and the percentage of rupture in an aneurysm the size of Cindy’s is like two percent. I just told Chris that and it took a big weight off him.”
“Wow, that’s not a big risk. You have a bigger risk of dying in a car crash.”
“Exactly. So, for whatever reason, this is coming up now, and I think it might be jealousy on her part. Her husband just walked out on her before Christmas, and then she heard Chris got engaged at the same time. I think you have the upper hand.”
“So I should grin and bear it,” Annie said, snickering.
“Yeah, that’s about it. In the meantime, my wife is going to be so pissed that she missed this.”
“Let’s go meet the ex,” Annie said.
They walked out together, handsome Justin and beautiful Annie, and later, Annie said she wished she’d had a picture of Cindy’s face when she saw them. Her nostrils flared and a flush started in her ample cleavage, moving up to her face. The response made Annie happy, for some perverse reason, and she gave Cindy her most beatific smile.
The chaos of new people meeting friends and family ensued for the next few minutes. In that time, Annie decided to follow Justin’s advice and kept her mouth shut with a smile on her face, all the whiletwo percentfloated through her head.
“Jeez, you’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be,” Cindy said, trying so hard not to scoff and losing the battle. “Robbing the cradle, eh, Chris?”
While Chris took exception to her comments and they bantered back and forth, Annie made her own observations as she waited for Chris to introduce her. Cindy wasn’t so bad herself. Her voice was scratchy and deep, like she might have ruined it smoking cigarettes.
She was a little younger than Chris, but not much. She looked good, clearly having spent a good amount of time in the salon chair, and she was also probably a gym rat and maybe even went under the plastic surgeon’s knife. Someone, maybe Maggie, had said she was a heavy smoker, but there was nothing on her face to suggest that at all.
