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“We have excellent genes. As do you.”
It’s a sweet thing to say, especially considering the product of my excellent genes is currently assisting hers in ransacking her kitchen. Blowing a kiss at his mother, Isaac scampers off with an armful of junk, Winona and my boy hot on his tail, and the smile on the latter’s face does wonders easing my anxiety.
At Luna’s gesturing, I slide onto one of the stools lining the sleek marble island in the middle of the kitchen, happily accepting the baby she plonks on my lap. As Pippa tries her best to rip my hair from its roots, I let my gaze roam around the Jackson-Evans home. “Your house is beautiful.”
“For now.” Rummaging through the fridge, Luna pulls out neatly stacked Tupperwares and sets them on the counter. She cracks the lid on one full of carrot sticks, snagging a handful while using her free hand to scoop Matthias up and set him on the stool beside me. “No one’s had the chance to ruin it yet. We used to live up near Sequoia National Park but then the kids got old enough to miss their best friends. Separating Izzy and Rory started feeling like child abuse.”
“Rory?”
Pink-fingernail-tipped hands tickle Matthias’ tummy, and the boy squeals through a mouthful of vegetables. “This one’s big sister. Amelia’s oldest. You met Amelia, right? Redhead, freckles,” a smirk creeps across her face, “just slightly less miniscule than you?”
“Funny.” When I chuck a grape her way, Luna dodges with the finesse of a mother accustomed to food flying around. “I think I’ve seen her around. We haven’t actually met, though.”
“No?” Pale brows rise. “Huh. Would’ve thought she’d be all over you.”
“Why?”
“Good ol’ sisterly meddling.” Luna takes a second to chortle at her own joke before clarifying, “She’s Cass’ sister.”
Of course she is. “Is he related to everyone in this town?”
“Feels like it sometimes, huh?”
Not liking the sympathy in her tone, I change the subject. “I didn’t know you had more than one kid.”
“Wait until you see my husband,” Luna croons. “It’s a miracle we only have three.”
* * *
It is, in fact, a miracle.
Watching Luna’s husband through the French doors leading to the backyard as he plays with the kids makes even my destitute ovaries tingle to life. It’s been a long time since I had a baby, even longer since I missed having one, but the combination of a doting father—God, that must be nice—and the baby happily cuddled to my chest is doing something weird to me. Making me a little mopey and nostalgic.
Sniffing, I snag a slice of cucumber from the almost demolished charcuterie board on the marble kitchen island—can’t cook for shit, Luna said while preparing it,but I am an excellent plater—and relinquish it to Pippa’s grabby hands. As she gnaws on it, I imagine a baby of my own in her place. Wonder how different it would be to have one now than it was then. It would be easier, surely, since I’d have some clue what to do. Maybe I’d actually be able to enjoy it.
“You can steal her for a night if you want.” Glancing up, I find Luna grinning at me from the other side of the island, the dishes she refused to let me help wash forgotten in the sink behind her. “I promise I won’t mind.”
Smoothing back a headful of wispy blonde waves, I joke, “Don’t tempt me.”
“You like it here, right?”
The abrupt change in subject doesn’t bother or surprise me; they’re pretty frequent when it comes to Luna. “August does.”
Drying her hands on a dish towel, she plants them on the marble counter. “I didn’t ask about August.”
“Yeah, I guess. It’s fine.” Luna narrows her eyes. I roll mine. “It’snice. I like it better than the last place I lived. Better?”
Marginally, says her half-satisfied hum. “Where was that?”
“Texas.”Otherwise known as Hell.
“Why’d you move?”
“We playing twenty questions?”
“I’ve got way more than twenty but that’s a good start.”
I laugh. Something about Luna’s no-nonsense stance compels me to answer honestly. “There was nothing there for us.”
