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TRISTAN
I type out the words for my Instagram and press enter. I watch the circle on top to make sure it’s posted before I look over at Abigail, who is still typing. She looks at me and hands me her phone while I hand her mine. I look down and read her caption.
Baby makes four.
I smile at her as she looks down at mine and then looks back up with tears in her eyes. “Yours is so much better than mine,” she sniffles, wiping the tears from her eyes. The phone pings in her hand nonstop. “People are commenting on your post.” She hands me back my phone.
I look down and see I already have two hundred and seventy-one comments. I open the app just to see if they are nasty comments. They are all polite, except for Christopher, who put a comment.
Are you going to put a ring on it also?
I laugh and show Abigail, who looks over and laughs, shaking her head. I’m about to answer him when Matty chimes in.
I thought they were engaged already.
I don’t have a chance to type anything because the phone rings in my hand, and I look down to see it’s Dylan.
“Hello,” I answer, putting him on speakerphone. “You are on speakerphone, and I’m here with your sisters and Penelope.”
“Hmm,” he growls, “so I can’t yell at you.”
“Why would you yell at me?” I ask him, putting the phone down on the counter and walking over to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle while Gabriella is on her laptop doing something with the pictures. Penelope is on the couch watching television, and since she doesn’t have school tomorrow, she has no bedtime.
“Did you guys just announce you were having a baby?” he asks, but doesn’t give me a chance to say anything else, “before announcing you were getting married?”
“Well, for one,” Abigail declares, “we aren’t getting married.”
“Yet,” I say, winking at her, as she just stares at me with her mouth hanging open.
“Before she agrees to marry him, she has to agree to move in with him,” Gabriella hollers from the counter without even looking up. Abigail glares at her. Gabriella finally looks over at Abigail and shrugs when Abigail holds up her hands, saying why.
“What do you mean she has to agree to move in with him?” Dylan questions, shocked. “Of course she is moving in with him. Where the hell is the baby going to live?”
“We could co-parent,” Abigail suggests out loud, and now I’m the one glaring at her. “Cooper does it.”
“And he hates every second of it,” Dylan shares. “You liked him enough to have sex with him and have a baby. Why not move in with him?”
“We are not having this conversation right now,” Abigail says between clenched teeth, “Penelope is here.”
“Does this mean you’re selling your house?” Dylan asks.
“I’m still living in it, asshole,” Gabriella retorts. “You act like she’s been living alone.”
“How am I supposed to know you’re not jet-setting around the world?” Dylan states. Gabriella gets up from her stool and walks over to the phone and presses the red button, disconnecting the call.
“You’re welcome,” she gloats, walking back to her computer and closing the laptop, “but you still didn’t answer the question.” She looks over at Abigail. “Are you moving in here?”
“I don’t know,” Abigail says, looking at me and then at Penelope to see if she has something to say.
“Penelope,” I call her name, and she looks over from the television, “should Abigail move in with us?”
“Yes,” she replies, turning back to watch her show.
I look at Abigail, who slaps my arm. “What was that for?”
“How could you just ask her like that?” she asks between her clenched teeth.
“How else did you want me to ask her?” I walk over to her and put my arms on her shoulders while she holds my hips. “Move in with us.”
