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They totally will, and that’s only a blip of the phenomenon that is the Bryant Women Baby Fanaticism. I don’t know if that last word is a word, but in this case it is. I’ll try to remember to look it up later. Unless I get to read Ella and Eli a bedtime story like the other night and hang out with Jenna for a little while before I leave. Then my Googling will be tossed willingly to the wayside.
Okay, okay. Hanging outandsneaking a few kisses from Jen.
Sheesh.
Speaking of Jenna, my eyes wander as the guys start discussing baseball. I like the game well enough, but I don’t really get the chance to watch it much. I could probably just cancel my TV service. If given the choice, I’d much rather watch Jenna or the kids. I’ve always preferred reality over fantasy, and right now my reality is better than I could’ve ever expected.
Jenna is standing with Ember, Sam, Jackie, Sarah, and Noelle in the backyard while the kids run around. She’s wearing that white dress she had on when we met with the teens at Farm to Table, the one with the buttons down the front and the yellow ribbon around her waist. Her hair is up in a ponytail—yeah, I know; I had to do a double take when I picked them up—with a yellow polka dot ribbon tied around it. I’m pretty sure the brown sandals she has on have the support of cardboard, but I won’t voice that thought aloud.
Nearby, Ella and Sadie (Sarah and Chris’s seven-year-old daughter) are trying to convince Eli and Will (Sarah and Chris’s three-year-old son) to play some sort of game that involves the cornhole beanbags and sand toys. I don’t know if there’s a point to the game, but the girls appear to be more entertained by the reluctant boys and convincing them to play than anything else.
Ella’s wearing a yellow sundress with ruffles on its shoulders—she picked it outall by herself, she proudly told me—and Eli has navy blue shorts with a white short-sleeve button up tucked into them. Jenna explained quietly to me that he wanted to wear blue like Daddy Seth does and white like Mommy. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the sort of choked up feeling I felt at that moment before today. Eli even insisted on wearing the badge sticker I’d brought home—that I’d taken with me to Jenna’s house the other day, even though he has to have a clothes pin to keep it on because the adhesive lost its stickiness. All four kids ditched their shoes almost right away, because who wants to wear them anyway?
“…the project with the teens going?” Braeden’s question jerks me from my thoughts, and I can see him grinning behind the bottle he lifts to his lips.
I clear my throat, resisting the urge to loosen my collar like Wynn was doing. “Good. We have all the major updates like tearing down walls, staining the floors, and painting the kitchen cupboards done. Now it comes down to piecing everything back together. We also need to get the exterior painted and finish the front porch. The whole original porch was rotted out, so the boys and I have been re-planking it while the girls paint inside. So, I guess, when it comes to the interior, we’re almost done but the exterior still needs a little more work.”
“Has the mayor come by to see it?” Wynn asks.
“No. He decided to wait until it’s completed.” I shrug, ignoring the way my stomach grumbles when John starts transferring hot dogs and burgers to the tropical-patterned platter Jess brought out from the kitchen. “You know, Leo’s typical quirkiness.”
Marshall laughs. “Quirky might be putting it lightly. I need to drop by and see it, though. The last time I was there it still reeked like smoke.”
Braeden grimaces. “Have you been able to get rid of that?”
“I don’t know if I can say for sure,” I admit with a chuckle. “Either yes, or I’ve become immune to it. We’ve been opening the windows a lot and Jenna took her diffuser over there to help with it.”
“I’ll bring a respirator just in case, then,” Marshall teases, balancing the platter his dad hands him in one hand and a pitcher of lemonade in the other. “Do you want me to tell everyone it’s time for supper?”
“Nah.” John grins as he shuts the grill off, clapping his son on the shoulder. “Let’s just start eating and see how long it takes for the women to stop yakking long enough to realize it.”
“Too late.” With Lily cradled in his left arm, Chris tilts his head towards the backyard. “I’m pretty sure they have a sixth sense when it comes to food. Or at least my girls do. Sadie doesn’t let me get the meat on the grill before she starts asking me if it’s done yet.”
“You could always give her tiger meat,” Braeden says lightly, falling in step beside me as we make our way towards the table. “A little raw hamburger never hurt anybody. Sam always sneaks at least two bites of it to Tucker when she’s making burgers or taco meat. She and the dog think I don’t notice, and I just go with that.”
Eli holds his arms out to me when he and his mother and sister get up to the deck, so I pick him up and pull out chairs for Jenna and Ella, then lower onto mine between them. Eli perches on my knee, reaching for the striped white and turquoise cloth napkin Ember folded on my plate. I help him put it over our laps, then tell him quietly to sit still for John’s prayer, clasping Jenna’s hand in my left and Ella’s in the other.
“Before everyone digs into this meal, I think Wynn and Noelle have something they’d like to share with us,” John says after he’s said a blessing, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sits down beside his wife.
“Wait,wait, WAIT!” Ember’s brown eyes laser in on her oldest brother when he and Noelle stand, both slightly flushed. “Hold on a moment. Are you guys…”
Wynn nods. “Yes. We wanted to wait until after Sarah and Chris had Lily to share the news, but yes, we are moving. We know it’s a—”
“You’rewhat?”This is from Sarah, who looks as dumbfounded as everyone else around the table.
I struggle to keep a straight face.
“We’re moving,” Wynn continues, surprisingly good at this lying thing. He has an arm around his wife’s waist, and Noelle’s cheeks are nearly as pink as her dress as she looks up at him.
Jackie looks both unconvinced and confused. “Where? And why?”
“You’re lying,” Ember says skeptically, waving a finger at Wynn. “I can see it in your eyes. You stink at lying.”
“He’s not actually.” Noelle bites her lip, and honestly, if I didn’t know they were both full of BS, I might believe them. Emphasis onmight.
“Nope,” Wynn says, but then a smile curves his lips and I know that’s the extent of their lying. “We aremovinginto a new season of life, because there will be a new member of our family somewhere around Christmas.”
As expected, the food is all but forgotten. Who needs to eat when you can squeal and ask a million questions and give name suggestions (how did I know?) for a baby who won’t be born until December? It’s not like I’m hungry or anything after an unexpected three-hour standoff this afternoon that finally ended with the suspect in cuffs.
