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“Maxi will be here when she gets off shift,” Erin says.
“I’m surprised. She usually ghosts us when Corbin is off,” Isley quips.
“Yeah, I know, but he was at the brewery when I called her. He and the guys are working at Anna’s again in the morning, so he’s going to eat and then crash early. So, she said she’d stop by on her way home,” Erin informs us.
Brandee places the pizzas on the island with a stack of paper plates and napkins.
We all grab slices while Jena opens a bottle of red, and then we settle in the living room with pillows and throws. Brandee turns on the gas fireplace, and we enjoy the food and wine and each other’s company.
“How’s the new job going?” Taeli asks me.
“Great actually. I was apprehensive at first, especially about leaving Kaela every day.”
“You know Mom is thrilled that she gets to keep her, right?”
“I do, but she won’t let me pay her, and I hate that she is giving up her free time,” I say.
She waves me off. “Oh, please. I swear she’s been guilting me since Caleb was born because we lived in Chicago and she didn’t get much time with him when he was a baby. She’s loving every minute of it.”
“Sounds like you and Graham need to get to making her a second grandbaby soon,” Erin says.
“Trust me, she and Sara-Beth have been throwing not-so-subtle hints,” she tells us.
“Yeah, Sara-Beth and my mom aren’t being very subtle with us either. I told Mom to please let me get through the wedding before she starts praying for the Lord to open my womb,” Ansley states.
“You’re in trouble. Your mom has a direct line to the big guy,” Erin says.
“Don’t I know it?” Ansley agrees.
Ansley’s father is the pastor, and her mom is the first lady of the local church. Therefore, praying is one of her mom’s specialties.
“The good news is, Weston runs a fairly laid-back operation, and he is going to allow me to bring Kaela to work with me a couple of days a week,” I inform them.
“That’s convenient,” Jena says.
“I know. I’m very lucky.”
“Weston loves kids. He’s wonderful with Caleb and Tucker,” Taeli says.
“I mean, he’s nothing but a big kid himself, so it makes sense,” Erin says.
“True.”
“I don’t know him as well as you guys do, but he seems to be good at what he does. He knows a lot about agriculture and has studied the environment and his product. It’s fascinating,” I explain.
“It’s cannabis. He’s been training for this since high school,” Erin says.
“It’s more than that. He knows the science behind the plants. He believes in the physical benefits and the natural healing properties of hemp, and he cares about the sustainability of the land. He’s a chemist, but one who cares about the chemicals used in growing and how it impacts the air, soil, and water of Balsam Ridge.”
“He’s a chemist? Like a legitimate scientist?” Jena asks.
“Yes. He’s an agricultural chemist,” I say.
“Huh. We are talking about Weston, right?” she asks for clarification.
“Yes. Weston Tuttle. It says it on the degree hanging in his office,” I assure her.
“Damn, I just thought he was a guy growing pot plants,” she muses.
