Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EVAN
“Here, honey,” Pam says, handing me a glass with some kind of red, bubbly looking liquid in it.
We’re sitting in the living room, the Christmas tree glowing in the corner and a fire roaring in the fireplace.
When I first walked into the house, Pam explained that, for the Wyles family midnight breakfast tradition, the woman relax and the men cook, except for Cooper who, she told me, is a disaster in the kitchen.
After I bit my cheek to keep from laughing and Cooper shot me a grin and a wink that had butterflies flapping in my stomach, Pam bundled me straight onto the sofa with Jo, Amelia, and Hannah, telling me not to move.
Cooper and his dad and brothers are all in the kitchen, and whatever they’re making has the entire house smelling like apples and cinnamon.
Everyone is smiling and laughing, and it’s the happiest, homiest vibe I’ve ever felt.
I glance at the drink in my hand, and when I see the cherries floating on top, I laugh. “Is this a Shirley Temple?”
Pam grins at me, handing glasses to Jo, Amelia, and Hannah, keeping one for herself before settling onto the chair across from the couch. “Sure is. Cooper told me you’re a fan of all things cherry, so tonight it’s our signature drink.”
Jo snorts out a laugh. “You say that like we often have signature drinks. We don’t,” she says, turning her head to look at me. “Unless you count margaritas. I guess you could call those our signature drink.”
“They were our signature drink,” Hannah says with a grimace. “I still haven’t been able to drink one since Vegas.”
“What happened in Vegas?” I ask without thinking, feeling my cheeks heat. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.”
“Of course it’s your business,” Amelia says, taking a sip of her own drink. “You’re in the smut sisters chat, which means our business is your business.”
Her words have me strangely emotional, the same way I felt when I got that first message from Pam in the group chat last week.
The group chat that carried on after that first day like I had been a part of it forever.
A part of them. I don’t know a lot right now, but I know that I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere.
Not really. But sitting here in this comfortable living room makes me feel like maybe, one day, I could belong here.
With these women. With Cooper. With this family.
Jo gives me a wicked grin and bumps my shoulder with hers.
“And your business is our business. So first, I’ll tell you that Hannah can’t drink margaritas anymore because she got blackout drunk last summer in Vegas when we were there for my and Jordan’s joint bachelor/bachelorette party, accidentally drunk-married Noah, didn’t realize it until they woke up the next morning, and then she threw up tequila for, like, an hour.
And now you can tell us all the dirty details about you and Cooper. ”
“You really got accidentally drunk-married in Vegas?” I ask Hannah, because I’m actually curious, not to sidestep the Cooper question. Definitely not. “I didn’t know that was a thing that happened outside of romance novels. I mean, you literally wrote that book. Twice.”
Hannah laughs, glancing down at the wedding ring on her finger. “I absolutely did get drunk-married in Vegas, fell in love with the guy, and then wrote a book about it.”
“And it was your best one yet!” We all turn as an older woman sweeps into the room dressed in flowing black pants and a bright pink shirt, an ankle length rainbow-colored cardigan sweeping around her legs as she walks, a cocktail glass in her hand, and a massive bright blue tote slung over her shoulder.
“You must be Evan!” she says with a grin, coming over to stand in front of me, studying me through her purple-framed glasses.
When she lays a hand on my cheek, warmth flows through me from the place where her skin touches mine, and I have the strangest feeling of being completely seen.
A familiar feeling because it’s the same one I get when Cooper looks at me.
Maybe this entire family is magic. “I’m Cece, and I am so happy to meet the woman who makes my Cooper so happy. ”
I clear my throat against the sudden onslaught of emotion. “I don’t know about that.”
“I know,” Cece says firmly, eyes steady on mine. Then she bends down and kisses both my cheeks. “Cooper has been waiting for you. So have we.”
I have no idea what she means and no idea what to say to that, so I say nothing as Cece stands, giving me a knowing grin and taking the seat next to Pam, who glances between me and Cece with an amused expression on her face.
“Yes, she’s always that spooky,” Amelia says in a low voice.
“One hundred percent of the time.” Hannah leans around Jo to look at me. “She knows everything, and she’s always right.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Pam says, smiling at her mom.
“I want to be her when I grow up,” Jo adds, looking at Cece with something like awe.
“You can, Jo Jo. You all can,” Cece says, looking between the four of us. “Every woman has a touch of the clairvoyant inside of her. You just have to listen to what the universe tells you and watch for its signs.”
Jo sighs. “I don’t know; that sounds like a lot of work. I’ll just leave the psychic thing to you. You’re so good at it.”
“Oh honey, I know I am,” Cece says with a grin, taking a sip of her drink. “Which is how I know Evan felt her baby move for the first time the other day. How did that make you feel?” she asks, looking at me intently.
“Oh my god,” Jo squeals, grabbing my hand and squeezing. “That’s so exciting. I love being an aunt so much. I can’t wait to get to do it again. Between Hallie and Ben having another one and you being pregnant, it’s so many babies and I can’t even.”
“Hallie is our older sister,” Hannah explains. “She and her husband are having their third this spring. Probably just a few weeks before you and Cooper.”
“Oh,” is all I can think to say. I wish I could bottle up some of Jo’s excitement so I could take it out and borrow it when I can’t find any of my own.
Which is pretty much always. When I glance back at Cece, she’s still looking at me with that penetrating stare I feel all the way down to my toes.
Maybe it’s the way she looks at me—like she’s not expecting me to say anything but the truth.
Or maybe it’s being surrounded by all these women who seem to have accepted me straight into their fold, no questions asked.
Or the warmth of this happy house—so different from anything I grew up with.
Or the way I can hear Cooper laughing in the kitchen, my ears somehow able to separate his voice from everyone else’s like we live on the same wavelength now.
Whatever it is, it’s enough to have me opening my mouth and telling these women all my secrets.
“I haven’t exactly found my excitement about all of this,” I say, gesturing at my stomach.
“It took me by surprise, and even though I should probably have my shit together, I still can’t figure out how I feel about it.
” I hold my breath, waiting for judgment, but instead all I see are five faces full of a kind of understanding that has my eyes burning.
“It’s hard,” I manage. “Knowing how to handle this. What to think. Trying to plan for something I don’t understand and, on some days, I’m not even sure I want.
I’m a lawyer. I know how to do that, and I want to do it well.
I don’t know how to do this, and I don’t know how to have both. ”
Without a word, Pam gets up from her chair and comes to sit on the coffee table right in front of me, taking both of my hands. “You’re doing fine, Evan. Better than fine.”
I shake my head, huffing out a laugh. “Thank you for saying that, but I’m the farthest thing from fine.”
Pam smiles, squeezing my hands. “When I was pregnant with Jordan, my neighbor was pregnant too, and every morning she did yoga in her back yard. She would come out dressed in these perfect exercise outfits and do sun salutations or whatever the fuck, smiling serenely with her hands on her stomach, looking like the happiest pregnant woman ever to exist. Whenever we talked, she would tell me how blessed she felt to be pregnant and how she was the happiest she had ever been and how amazing she was feeling. And there I was, sick as a dog, hating pregnancy and life in general. I couldn’t eat anything, none of my clothes fit, and most days I wondered at least twice whether I was making the biggest mistake of my entire life.
The day we came home from the hospital, I asked Rob if maybe we should just send Jordan back because I had no business being a mother. Didn’t even really want to be one.”
“What did he say?” I practically whisper.
Pam smiles. “He took Jordan from me, kissed my cheek, and tucked me into bed. Four hours later, I woke up to a clean house, a sleeping baby, and lunch on the table. Then he did it again every single time I had a crisis of confidence, which was at least once a day for months.”
I look down at our joined hands and back up at Pam. “Sounds like Cooper comes by his caretaking streak naturally.”