Chapter 28 Savannah
TWENTY-EIGHT
SAVANNAH
“Thank you so much for coming early,” Addie says as I walk through the front door to the brownstone where she grew up.
According to her, this place will be a mob scene in a matter of hours, so I’m here to help prep. Josie usually claims me for the holiday, so I’ve never attended a Langfield Christmas Eve, but I’ve heard they’re epic.
I can only imagine it will be a who’s who of the Boston elite kind of night.
Also, this house is incredible. All of the homes on this block are gorgeous, and most of them are inhabited by Langfields. All four Langfield brothers, including Addie’s dad, live on the street.
The way Addie tells it, her mom and her bio dad divorced when she was a toddler, and after, her mother, Liv, and her three best friends moved into one house on this street so they could raise their kids together.
Then Liv married her boss, Beckett Langfield, in Vegas on a whim, and when they came home, he moved in with all of the women and kids.
The story gets a little fuzzy from there, but eventually Beckett bought every house on this street, and now some are filled with Langfields, and the others are occupied by the friends her mom moved in with all those years ago, along with their families.
Sienna is the only one of Addie’s dad’s siblings who doesn’t live on this street.
“I’m happy to help, and I really appreciate the invitation.” I hand her a bottle of wine stuffed into a gift bag, fighting the urge to cringe. I spent a good chunk of my Christmas budget on it, but I can’t imagine her family drinking grocery-store wine.
“You shouldn’t have spent your money on this,” she says as she eyes the label on the bottle.
She tugs me into the oversized kitchen. It’s all white cabinets and white and gold marble counters. At the island, three kids are perched on stools, each decorating their own gingerbread house. Avery, JJ’s daughter, is on one end, and beside her are Winnie’s twin boys, Beckett and Declan.
“I didn’t ask you to come early to help set up, I texted SOS because—” Brows lifted, she darts a glance at Avery.
Ah. Where Avery goes, JJ goes, and wherever JJ is, Addie tries not to be. Alone, at least. It’s going to be awfully difficult to keep this up when she’s his goalie coach next season, but pointing that out now won’t do me any good.
“Didn’t the two of you grow up together?” I mumble when I spot JJ in the back yard with Addie’s dad while he talks to what looks like a…raccoon? That can’t be right.
With a huff, my friend stomps to the fridge. “Want a water or something? Or should we have wine? Maybe we should have wine now.”
I snort. “We definitely shouldn’t have wine now. You’ll be toasted before the guests arrive, and I am not going to be blamed for ruining Christmas Eve.”
She sighs and plucks two bottles of water from the fridge. “No, that’d be him.” She nods at the window.
“The raccoon?” I tease.
She glares at me. “That’s Junior Jr. She couldn’t ruin anything. She’s pregnant. My dad is worried she might give birth, but she refuses to let the vet near her. She hisses at anyone who isn’t my father.”
I turn back to the window, where Beckett is kneeling now, and yeah, he’s definitely having a conversation with the raccoon. “I always envisioned your life as a Norman Rockwell painting, picture-perfect family and all. But your dad is weird.”
She hums, surveying him. “The weirdest.”
“Don’t touch my candy!” one of the boys shouts. The outburst is followed by the sound of a sharp smack.
Shoulders slumping, Addie sighs. “Boys.”
“He did it first.” Declan jabs a finger at Beckett.
“Did not,” the other little boy whines.
“Declan took Beck’s candy and stuck it in his nose. Then Beck hit him,” Avery says without looking up from her project.
My heart melts at the sight of her. She’s totally focused on her house, yet she still knows what’s going on around her. Such a little woman.
“And Grandpa Beckett isn’t weird. He just takes care of everyone he loves.” She finally looks up and pins Addie with a look fit for a parent scolding a child.
Addie opens her mouth to respond, but snaps it shut again. She does this a few more times before a look of contrition washes over her and she nods. “You’re right, Ave. You are always right.”
Damn. It takes effort not to break into laughter.
“I am,” the little girl says. “Now could you talk to my dad about signing me up for hockey? He says I have to wait another year.”
“Hockey’s for boys,” Beckett grumbles.
Declan snaps up straight. “Baseball’s better.”
“Baseball’s the worst.” Beckett picks up his piping bag of frosting and squirts it at Declan.
“Mom,” Declan yells.
“Oh my god,” Addie groans, face lifted to the ceiling.
“I now understand why you invited me over,” I say with a giggle. “Why don’t we separate them?”
She shrugs. “And do what? Winnie is taking a shower, and she said if she doesn’t have ten minutes to herself, she’ll have a meltdown. And there were tears, Sav, actual tears forming in her eyes. Winnie doesn’t cry. And I can’t handle crying, period.”
A snort finally escapes me, but I rein in control of myself again and just nod.
Maybe I should dread the idea of having to entertain a trio of fighting four-year-olds, but honestly, I’m too happy for that kind of negativity.
Addie called me over early because she needed me.
That alone makes the invite she extended feel a lot less like the pity kind.
So I do what I do best. I come up with a game for the boys while leaving Addie and Avery to finish the gingerbread houses.
The party is in full swing a few hours later, but I have yet to spot Camden. I still can’t believe we’re spending Christmas together. I’ve got quite the surprise planned for him later. If I don’t fall asleep after helping the Donovans set up after the kids are in bed, that is.
Not knowing what to do with myself while I wait for Camden to arrive, I pick up two empty appetizer plates and take them to the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
I peer over my shoulder, finding Winnie following behind me, plastic stemware in her hands.
“Same as you,” I say, lifting the plates a little.
“You’re our guest. You should be out there enjoying yourself. Especially after you saved the day with the twins earlier. Thank you.”
Warm affection surges through me. “They’re sweet. They’ve just got a lot of energy. Figured a game of freeze tag outside would get some of the zoomies out.”
Winnie drops the plastic stemware in the recycling bin and takes the plates from me. “A lot of energy is putting it mildly.”
“I only had them for an afternoon, so I wouldn’t know. But I can’t imagine it’s easy raising them on your own.”
She blows a strand of her auburn hair out of her face. “I chose this,” she says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
It sounds like a phrase she uses often. I can imagine she needs the reminder sometimes, that she chose to parent on her own when she chose IVF.
“Doesn’t mean you don’t get to be tired,” I say with a squeeze to her arm.
She sighs, then pastes on another smile. “Addie has been telling me I should read your new column.”
I write the column anonymously, though my three best friends know, and since Addie and her older sister are close, I’m not surprised she knows too.
“Oh, her new column is fire.” Sienna appears in the doorway, followed quickly by her husband Noah.
I met him when I did a piece introducing our readers to Sienna shortly after she came on as Jolie’s creative director. The man is insanely hot. Black glasses that make him look just a touch nerdy, yet with the build of a former hockey player and the kindest blue eyes.
He snakes an arm around his wife and pulls her into his side. “Oh yeah? Is it one I should read?”
She pops up on her toes and presses the quickest of kisses to his cheek. “Yes. It’s hysterical.” Flat-footed again, she beams at me. “Savannah is doing a column on what not to do when dating. She’s even going out with guys and testing out these don’ts on them.”
Winnie laughs. “No wonder Addie says I need to read it. She’s always on me about dating.” Her expression sobers a little. “Like I have time for that.”
I give her a half smile. “It’s not working exactly as I thought it would, to be honest.”
“No?” Noah asks.
Sienna giggles. “She’s done the most ridiculous things, and still, she can’t get this one guy to dump her. She even sent him a link to her ovulation calendar, and he’s still sticking around!”
“Shut up!” Winnie wheezes.
Cheeks heating, I wince. “It’s not real,” I say to Noah. The last thing I want is for anyone to think I’m trying to baby trap a man.
He offers me a tight smile. “So it’s just for the story?”
Something about his tone and the way he frames the question makes me uneasy. Or maybe it’s because while this thing with Camden may have started that way, it’s certainly more than that now. “No, I really like the guy.” I shrug. “But the ovulation thing was just for the story, yeah.”
Sienna slaps a hand to her husband’s chest, still laughing. “And he still didn’t dump her.”
“Guess Addie was right,” Winnie says. “I’ll definitely need to read the column.”
“Me too,” Noah says, still wearing that brittle smile. “Alright, baby,” he says to his wife, “I’m going to find the girls. Don’t forget, we promised them we’d go see Christmas lights before we head home.”
Sienna nods. “Yes, that’s my cue. Have a merry Christmas, Savannah. I’ll see you next week. Win, I’ll see you tomorrow at Aiden’s?”
Sienna leans in and gives us both kisses on the cheeks before she and her husband wander away. As they’re swallowed up by the crowd, Noah glances back. And I can’t help but think that he had more to say about my story.
I exhale a relieved breath. At least he’s leaving now. Because while no one but my closest friends knows that Mr. Won’t Break Up with me is Camden Snow, our worlds might be too small to keep that secret for long.