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She stows the jacket away and then reaches for a handbag. “This isn’t vintage. It’s a Hermes Birkin 30, crocodile leather, with diamond-encrusted hardware.”
“Looks like a black bag to me.”
She pets the side of it. “It was a quarter of a million dollars.”
I about swallow my tongue as I stare at the bag in her hands. “Holy fuck, London.”
“Want to hold it?”
“Fuck no. I’ll break it, and I can’t pay you back for it.”
She chuckles and stows it away. “These are my babies, but aside from the jacket, I use them all. What’s the point in buying them if they just hide away in a closet? I want to see them, touch them, use them. And I do. Okay, that’s enough playtime in the closet. I’m sure I’m boring you half to death.”
“Actually, no. I’m seeing a whole new side to you, and I like it.”
“You like the shopaholic in me?”
That makes me laugh. “I like watching you talk about something that brings you so much happiness.”
“What is that thing for you?” she asks as she turns off the lights in the closet and follows me out to the bedroom, where we sit on the sofa by the windows in the corner of the room. “And don’t say football. That’s your job.”
“I can’t say that I’ve ever spent a quarter of a million dollars on anything, aside from my condo.”
She tilts her head, and her eyes say,come on.
“I like cars. I have an older Jeep that my cousin restored for me, and I also have the Range Rover you saw. That’s all I have room for right now, and I’m nothing like the cousin I mentioned, Keaton, but I think they’re fun.”
“I bet that Jeepisfun in the summer,” she says with a soft smile. Her eyes look heavy as she rests her head on her hand, leaning against the back of the couch. “Tell me about your sisters.”
“They’re both pregnant right now.”
“What?” That has her head coming up. “Both of them?”
“Yeah, I found out when I went to my parents’ house for dinner. They didn’t know that the other was expecting. They both planned to surprise the family. And I guess they did.”
“Well, that’s exciting. Are they married?”
I nod and reach for one of her bare feet. She doesn’t even put up a fight this time and sighs when I dig into her arch.
“You wear too many high heels.”
“That’s impossible. Keep talking.”
“Josie is married to Brax Adler. He’s a musician. She’s a nurse at Seattle General. Maddie is an accountant, and she’s married to a guy named Dylan, whom she met on a flight to Iceland at Christmastime.”
“That sounds like a Hallmark movie,” London says with a yawn.
“Now that you mention it, it does.” I laugh and squeeze her heel. “It sounds like they’ll be having babies about a month apart next year. My mom is over the moon.”
Her eyes have closed, but I can tell that she’s still listening.
“In fact, I think my mom is going to go shopping for baby stuff this weekend.”
“I have stuff,” she offers softly. “Happy to pass it along.”
“Thanks. I’ll let them know. You should go to bed, sweetheart.” I just don’t want to leave her. I want to stay like this all night, talking and laughing, comparing stories about our families. I want to hear more about the boutique she owns in New York. My cousins and aunts would probably all love to make a trip over to check it out.
But she’s already breathing evenly with sleep, so I stand and lift her into my arms and carry her to the bed. She snuggles down, her face half-pressed into her pillow, and hardly stirs as I cover her with the blanket.
