Chapter 40 – Maura
MAURA
James squeezes my hand. “You look beautiful.”
I glance down at my loose pale green dress. “Thank you. You can’t see a bump yet, right?”
“No, not yet,” he mutters.
“You sound almost disappointed.”
“Is it so wrong to want to see my wife, pregnant with my child?” James dips his head to kiss just below my jaw, making me shiver.
“It is tonight! I’m not ready for everyone to know yet.”
Cat and Nate invited the group to a small dinner at their apartment tonight.
While I've already told the girls, James respected my request to keep it secret from his friends for a little longer.
I'm just irrationally superstitious that the more people I tell, the more likely it is that something could go wrong.
“I’m still looking forward to seeing you in that dress in a few months,” James murmurs.
When the elevator doors open to Cat and Nate’s apartment, I’m greeted by a tray of brie and mini-croissants shoved in my face.
“You made it!” Cat says, beaming. “Have a snack.”
“At least let them come inside before you force imported cheese on them,” Nate says from behind her.
“Oh, right! Sorry, I just got excited.” She steps aside, gesturing for us to come inside and join the group. Inside, the lighting is low and warm. Soft music drifts from the speakers, and gigantic plates of food are stacked on the table.
James leans down to whisper in my ear. “Does Cat know that pregnant women can't eat unpasteurized cheese?”
I chuckle. “I doubt it. But she's so excited, I don't want to tell her. Quick, eat my brie for me.”
He sighs dramatically, but does as instructed. I nibble on my mini-croissant, which melts in my mouth. James smiles approvingly.
“Have we finally found a food that doesn't trigger your morning sickness?”
“Don’t say the M.S. word,” I hiss. For the past week, it’s been a struggle to keep down anything more than slices of toast. “And yes, I can happily report that these croissants don't make me want to vomit.”
“Then I'll find out where Cat got them and order a few dozen.” He ducks his head to kiss me on my temple and walks over to join the hostess.
I stroll to the table, where Brinley and Luke are biting back smiles watching Pippa and Ryan argue over something.
“For the last time, brownies are supposed to be vegetarian,” Pippa whines.
Ryan crosses his arms. “Well, I think adding bacon was a genius move. Tell them, Luke.”
“Bacon, I might have been able to handle,” Luke says. “But when you added cheddar cheese, you went a bridge too far.”
My stomach lurches just thinking about it. “Why?” I blurt out, not caring about being polite.
“What are the three best flavors in the world?” Ryan asks.
“Cherry, coffee, and caramel,” says Pippa.
“Sushi, curry, and spaghetti,” says Brinley.
“Wrong,” Ryan declares. “They’re chocolate, bacon, and cheese.”
“Not together,” Luke groans.
“More of a good thing is a good thing,” Ryan insists. “Here, Maura, try it. You’ll see.”
He reaches to a revolting looking dish in the center of the table. Before he can cut me a slice, James flexes out his hands.
“I'd rather you not poison my wife,” he says coolly.
Beau appears from the kitchen, wearing a pink frilly apron and potholders with Hello Kitty on them. Ryan, Luke, and James burst out laughing.
“When did you rob Barbie's closet?” Luke cackles.
“Har, har,” Beau says, unphased. He sets down a beautiful looking lasagna. “These are Cat’s. I borrowed them so I could generously make all of you a homemade dinner. I expect thank you’s from everyone, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Pippa and I chime.
“I’ll thank you after I taste test it,” Brinley says.
Beau waggles his eyebrows. “Trust me, I think you're going to like the flavor.”
The rest of the group joins us at the table as Beau starts serving up lasagna. I sniff carefully, and thankfully, my stomach seems to approve. I take a bite and moan loudly.
“Brinley, tell Beau thank you,” I demand.
Even though my stomach isn’t able to handle much more than the lasagna, dinner is still perfect.
Conversation is full of old stories and good-natured debates over movies and travel locations.
I find myself sitting back and just listening.
Growing up, it was just me and Victor at the table, on the rare occasion he actually came home for dinner.
Most nights, I ate alone with a book or with a staff member.
I never got to sit at a table like this, so full of warmth, noise and love.
It’s probably the pregnancy hormones, but I get a little misty-eyed thinking about all the honorary uncles and aunts my baby will get to have.
I’m grateful that they’ll be born into this little family.
And if I can’t make it to see them graduate college or get married, at least my child has Cat to make them banners, Beau to take pictures of everything, Nate to spoil them with gifts, and everyone else to hug and teach and love them.
When everyone's done, Cat orders the men to clear the table for dessert. They fall in line without complaint, a feat they only perform for her. I guess they might do the same for me if I asked them, if only out of fear for James's wrath.
“Hey, Brinley, is your friend finally coming to visit this month?” Pippa asks.
Brinley’s face brightens. “Eden! Yes, she’s going to visit and test-drive Toronto as a place to live. I'm hoping she'll stay with me for at least a week. It's been way too long since we got to spend any real time together.”
Behind her, Luke freezes, an empty bread basket in his hand. After a moment, he shakes his head, almost like he's trying to shake off the thought.
“Dessert is served,” Beau says, approaching the table with a gigantic platter. I gasp at the massive display of cheesecake slices, brownie bites, lemon tarts, and macarons.
“You really think we’re going to eat all this?” Pippa laughs.
“I think we’re going to get through about half of it, and Ryan and James will hoover up the rest like the human vacuums they are,” Beau says.
Ryan shrugs and snatches a pistachio macaron. “He’s not wrong.”
Beau circles the table, pausing behind Brinley.
As he leans down to put a small plate of pink cookies in front of her, I think I see him sniff her hair.
It’s so quick, I would have thought I was seeing things if Brinley’s face didn’t turn a bright tomato red.
It seems…odd. Flirtatious, even. But that wouldn’t make any sense.
Beau is her brother’s best friend, and if Brinley were messing around with him, I’m sure she would have told me.
Maybe he has some unrequited crush or something.
Cat stands at the head of the table and clears her throat.
“I wanted to thank all of you for coming, and for all the support you've given Nate and I over the past few months. We've got a lot to celebrate. Pippa’s articles going viral, Maura’s solo show, Ryan launching his website—I don’t care what you all say, I love my neon green sweatshirt. ”
“Hear, hear!” he cries, raising his glass.
“Tonight, I'd like to add another celebratory moment to the list,” she says.
“You’re pregnant!” Ryan gasps. “I call godfather!”
Cat holds up the champagne she’s been sipping all night.
“Good guess, but no. Wedding planning has been exhausting, and I've had to make a lot of hard choices. Thankfully, at least one decision has been easy. Pippa, you’ve been my best friend for years. You were my rock while I figured out my whole relationship with Nate, and I want you by my side at the altar. Will you be my maid of honor?”
Pippa covers her mouth with her hands. “You’re serious?” she squeaks.
Cat nods. “I won't even make you plan a bachelorette party if you don't want to.”
“Shush! I want to,” Pippa says, jumping up and hugging Cat. “Thank you. I’d love to.”
“Pippa’s not the only one I want up there with me,” Cat says. “Maura and Brinley, would you be my bridesmaids?”
Tears spring to my eyes. Even though Cat was in my wedding party, I never expected her to reciprocate. It feels like she’s extended an official welcome to the inner circle. This time, it’s not a favor to James—I’ve been chosen.
“Of course, Cat.” I grin, wrapping my arms around myself. “Thank you.”
Brinley raises her hand. “Before I say yes, have you picked out the dresses already? Because you should know, I look tragic in pastel chiffon.”
The table chuckles. “I promise you veto power,” Cat says.
Brinley pretends to think. “Then yes. A thousand times, yes!”
Nate opens a bottle of champagne and starts pouring. When he gets to me, he says, “I know you don’t drink much, but it still feels polite to offer.”
I smile. “I'm good, thanks. I'm actually going to step out on the terrace for some air.” My nausea has cooperated this long, and I don't want to tempt fate by putting it through dessert.
Leaving the chatting group, I walk over to the terrace doors and into the spring air. It's the warmest evening I can remember in months, but the apartment is high enough that there’s still a strong breeze. I hug my arms around myself.
A moment later, the door opens behind me. A familiar smelling jacket settles on my shoulders—James.
“Feeling okay?” he asks.
“I feel amazing, actually.” He steps next to me at the terrace railing, and I lean against his shoulder. “I can't believe Cat asked me to be in her wedding. I didn't have a ton of close friends, thanks to Victor. I never thought I'd get to be a bridesmaid.”
James hums. “I get it. After my parents died, the circle of people I trusted became—well, pretty much just the guys.”
“Is it scary to let yourself trust that many people?” I ask.
He considers for a moment. “In theory, yes. But I know that I could ask everyone in that room for help, and they’d step up, no questions asked. Well, Brinley might have a few questions, which is fair. We don’t know each other that well.”
“She’d help you for my sake. She might give you shit about it, but she’d step up.”
James’s hand wraps around my waist. “How are you feeling? With the morning sickness, I mean.”
“It’s not amazing. And we’ve got to stop calling it morning sickness, instead of all-day awfulness. But I’d take morning sickness over the anxiety any day.”
“What are you anxious about?”
I put a hand over my stomach. “I’m scared of hoping too much. Something could still happen.”
“I’m scared too,” James admits. “But I’d choose this risk every time if it meant having you and the baby.”
I turn into his arms, raising my lips to his.
His mouth opens instantly for me, his tongue pressing hungrily against mine.
He clutches me hard against him and I press up on my toes, not wanting an inch of space between our bodies.
Our teeth clash as James devours me and steals my breath.
His fingers dig into my waist, all his careful self-control evaporated.
There are no walls, no deflection. For the first time, I let James feel everything I do, and he does the same.
I only break away when I’m too breathless to keep kissing. When I glance up at James, a lock of dark hair falls over his forehead. I smile and press it back.
“Take me home,” I murmur.
James's eyes glitter in the evening light. “Home,” he repeats. “I like the sound of that.”
He puts his hand on my lower back and guides me toward the elevator. And for the first time, I let myself imagine a future where I actually get to keep this.
All of it. Him, our baby, the life we're building together.
Maybe, just maybe, my heart will hold on long enough to see it through.
The group at the table is engrossed in a card game that seems to involve a lot of yelling and forehead-slapping. James leads me right to the elevator, ignoring them.
“We should say goodbye,” I say.
He presses the elevator button. The doors open quickly, and he drags me inside and presses me up against the wall, his warmth making me shiver.
“They’ll survive,” he mutters. “I need you more.”
When his lips descend on mine, I can’t think of a reason to argue.