Chapter 13 #2
Zephyr wasn’t listening; he was trying to see if he could lick his own elbow.
“So, you just climb a little,” Holden decided. “Not all the way. We won’t look up.”
“That’s very noble of you,” I said, biting back a laugh. “But how about I leave the tree-climbing to your mom this time?”
Holden made a face. “Mom said no. She said she’ll do it later.” He drew out the word like it was code for “never.”
Of course she did.
Evie appeared at my elbow like I’d summoned her. She was flushed, too, dark hair pulled up in a messy knot, T-shirt already sporting three mysterious stains and a smear of barbecue sauce.
“I said later, not never,” she said, nudging Holden with her hip. “And only if you eat more than air and sugar in between climbs.”
Holden huffed and stomped his foot. “Daaad,” he yelled, already sprinting toward the grill. “Come climb the tree with us!”
Aiden, overhearing, sighed in theatrical resignation, handed his spatula to Simon, and let himself be dragged away by two small human hurricanes.
As he passed us, he mouthed help me.
I grinned and lifted my cup in salute.
Beside me, Evie let out a breath and massaged the bridge of her nose.
It was a tiny thing, that gesture. But there was a guilty little twist around her mouth that snagged my attention.
I turned to face her fully. “Okay,” I said. “What is that?”
“What is what?” she asked, all innocence.
“The lip bite,” I said. “The guilty face. The way you’re looking at me like you stole my favorite sweater and shrunk it in the wash. Spill it, Evie.”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing. This is your day. You’re here, you look gorgeous, I’m not—”
I squinted my eyes and really looked at her. Her face was fuller than when I’d last seen her. She was glowing. Again.
“Dammit, Evie,” I cut in, soft but firm. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant and afraid to share such joyous news with me.”
Her face crumpled.
She nodded once, choked on a little laugh-sob, and then burst into tears.
“Oh, honey,” I said, abandoning my tea to wrap both arms around her.
She clung to me, shoulders shaking, trying to laugh and cry at the same time. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she managed. “I’ve been trying to find the right way… the right time… but there isn’t one, and then you walked in looking healed and I just couldn’t… I can’t…”
“Hey.” I squeezed her tighter, then pulled back enough to look her in the face.
Her eyes were red, mascara threatening to make an escape.
“Listen to me. You being pregnant? That doesn’t hurt me.
Not even a little.” I swallowed around the truth.
“I love you. I love Aiden. I love those two little tree goblins you two created. Of course I’m happy you’re adding another one. ”
Her chin trembled. “Really?”
“Really,” I said. “If anything, I’m offended you thought I’d be mad at you for giving me another niece or nephew to corrupt with manga and sugar.”
A watery laugh escaped her. “You’re sure?”
“Evie,” I said solemnly, “I am thrilled. Like, obnoxiously thrilled. I might crochet the baby a hat you’ll hate.”
She shuddered dramatically. “Please God, give me a girl. I cannot handle a third boy. The laundry alone…”
I snorted. “You say that now, but if it’s another boy, he’s going to own you by day three.”
She scrubbed at her cheeks. “Probably.”
I hugged her again, this time purely out of joy. There was a tiny ache somewhere deep in my chest, but it wasn’t the kind that hollowed me out anymore. It was just…there. Part of the landscape.
Evie pulled back, sniffing, and I handed her a napkin from the nearest table.
A shadow fell across us.
“Hey,” came a low, familiar voice. “Everything okay over here?”
My heart did that stupid lurch thing it always did when it recognized him before my brain caught up.
I looked up.
Zarek stood a few feet away, a beer bottle loose in his hand, shoulders filling out a dark T-shirt that fit a little too well. His jaw was still bruised, faint yellow-green shadows under the stubble, but his eyes were clear as they moved from Evie’s blotchy face to mine.
“We’re good,” I said, forcing my voice not to wobble. “Evie’s just being dramatic.”
Evie elbowed me lightly. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted, then winced. “That’s not how I meant to say that.”
Zarek’s expression shifted—surprise, then something warm and soft that used to be reserved for me when I told him good news.
“Congratulations,” he said quietly.
He leaned in and gave Evie a careful hug, mindful of the cup still in her hand, the space between them. One big hand went to the back of her head for a second, protective and gentle, before he let her go.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “Don’t tell the boys yet. I want to do something fun.”
“Your secret’s safe,” he said.
He stepped back, took a sip of his beer, and for a moment, the three of us stood there in the middle of the backyard—my sister glowing and teary, my husband-not-husband looking like every good memory I’d ever had, me in my stupid orange dress trying to keep my heart from cracking open.
He looked at me then—really looked—eyes traveling from my sandals up to my face. A flicker of something—surprise, appreciation, and was that desire?—crossed his features so fast anyone else would’ve missed it.
I didn’t.
The beer bottle tipped toward me in a small, wordless toast.
I lifted my chin, met his gaze, and smiled.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Evie looking between us. “I better make sure Aiden is supervising his sons before they climb to the top of the tree,” she said as she hurried away.
She left us standing there, looking at one another.
“You look beautiful.”
My mind short-circuited. Say something!
“I made potato salad.”
“Of course you did,” he murmured, voice low.
Yeah, I’m brilliant.