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“She didn’t seem to be kidding,” Jill said with a laugh. “I’ll take all of the peanut butter cookie dough.” She glanced at Chuck. “Do you want some?”
“I’ll take whatever you’ve got,” he said.
Jill joined Hannah in the kitchen as she pulled out a jar of peanut butter and the plastic container with oats. “Hannah’s favorite is butter pecan,” she said, setting it on the counter. “We’ve also got mint chocolate chip, the cookie dough, and some cookies ‘n cream.”
Chuck moved into the kitchen and started opening cupboards. He found the bowls and got down three. “Just us?”
“For all of this ice cream?” Jill said. “I’ll text Ted. He can take some for Emma.”
“Text Spencer too,” Hannah said. “Those cowboys next door can eat more than a herd of wolves.”
Chuck burst out laughing, and he had a nice, loud, deep laugh. Hannah grinned too, finally laughing a little with him. “What?” she asked, clearly flirting with him.
“Wolves don’t go around in aherd, sweetheart,” he drawled. “They’re apack.”
“Fine,” she said, nudging him with her hip. “Those cowboys next door can eat more than apackof wolves.”
Watching them together made Jill’s heart constrict in a weird way. She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t hurt. She was so, so happy for Hannah, because she really did want her to be happy, and Chuck seemed to bring out something in her that had been absent for the past several months.
Jill just wished Slate were there. She wished he’d come over to the West Wing from next door and take some of this ice cream off of their hands. Without him, they wouldn’t even have three quarts of peanut butter cookie dough ice cream filling their freezer.
She turned away from Hannah and Chuck as she said something to him in a quiet voice. Jill finished the tree while the scent of cocoa and peanut butter filled the air, and she said, “I’m just going to put these boxes in my truck, then I’ll be back to eat all of this.”
“I’ll help,” Chuck said, and with two of them, they got the empty boxes out to her truck in record time. When they went back in after the last load, several more voices had joined the party in the kitchen, and Jill’s heart sang when she found Spencer, Nick, Jack, and Ted sitting at the bar.
Emma had come too, and she laid on the couch with her feet in Missy’s lap. Connor stood at the sink, his cowboy hat so cute on his little head. Jill loved having people around, and she fed off their energy as more than one of them told her how festive and amazing the West Wing looked.
She collected her bowl of ice cream and took a handful of no-bake cookies to the living room, where she gave one to Emma and one to Missy.
“How are your feet?” she asked. She’d been to the doctor, and she definitely had more swelling than normal. She’d been tasked with drinking an impossible amount of water each day, staying off her feet as much as possible, and wearing compression socks.
Now, though, her daughter was rubbing her feet.
“They’re actually better,” Emma said. “Missy wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure,” Jill said, scooping up a bite of ice cream with plenty of cookie dough balls in it. “What’s up?”
Missy looked at her mom and then Jill. “My birthday is coming up, and Momma said I could have a party. Our cabin is small, and she’s so…I don’t want to bother her. Could we have it here in the West Wing?”
“I would literally pay you to have it here,” Jill said with a smile. “This place is so quiet now.”
“Jill hates the quiet,” Emma said.
Jill couldn’t argue, so she didn’t.
Missy smiled and said, “Thanks.” She cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear. She focused on her mother’s feet like they were the most fascinating things in the world.
Jill looked at Emma, but she’d closed her eyes. Something was afoot though.
“Would you do our makeup?” Missy asked. “There will only be four of us. Everyone loved my makeup at Halloween, and Yancey suggested we could do makeup at the party.”
Jill’s surprise pulled her mouth down. “Wow, uh, Emma?”
“The girls are thirteen,” she said. “Makeup is a thing at thirteen.”
“Sure,” Jill said, remembering being that age and wanting to shave her legs and wear mascara so badly. “But you have to do something for me.”
Missy raised her eyes to Jill’s. “What?”
