Chapter 29
Abby
Thirty Two Weeks
“Holy shit, Ellie, this place looks fucking incredible.”
The house looks nearly unrecognizable. If I hadn’t unlocked the front door with my own key, I would almost believe I had the wrong house. My entryway has been transformed into something more like the entrance to a secret garden, with the living room being the garden itself.
Sage chiffon is draped from the ceiling, with delicate fabric butterflies attached to the flowing fabric in a way that makes it seem as though they’re actually fluttering through the room.
Large arrangements of baby’s breath and white roses are placed tastefully around the room, the space full but not crowded.
Several cocktail tables have been placed around the room, the white linens covering them all cinched together with a dark green satin bow that perfectly compliments the rest of the room.
Even rows of champagne flutes filled with sparkling lemonade take up one third of a long table, next to an assortment of both sweet and savory pastries.
The end third of the table is empty save for one present, wrapped in simple brown paper and twine.
“Are you sure you like it?” Ellie asks nervously, wringing her hands. “The table won’t look so empty when other presents start filling it in.”
“Ellie Hart, it’s perfect,” I say, pulling her into a tight squeeze. “Best party planner Larkspur has ever seen.”
“I really am three for three now, huh?” she chuckles, reaching up to brush a loose curl out of my face. “I’m glad you like it. You and baby girl deserve the world.”
“I can never show her pictures of this,” I say solemnly. “No party I plan will ever be good enough for her if she knows this is what Auntie Ellie is capable of.”
“Oh please,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “As if I’d ever let anyone else, including you, plan any sort of party for her. If y’all insist on calling me a party planner, I’m damn well going to live up to it.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing her cheek. “It really is perfect.”
Jenna, Ellie’s college roommate and longtime friend, sweeps in from the kitchen carrying the most beautiful charcuterie board I’ve ever seen.
“Happy baby shower, mama!” she cries, bumping my hip with hers as she passes me on her way to the table. After some rearranging, she steps back to admire the spread before turning to me.
Beaming brightly, she grasps my hands in hers, practically vibrating with excitement. “Thank you so much for inviting me! I wanted to help so bad, but I didn’t know if it was a super exclusive list, and I tend to steamroll things, and–”
“Jenna, I’m glad you’re here,” I laugh, squeezing her hands in reassurance. “I’m honored you even wanted to come.”
“Are you kidding me?” she gasps. “I keep telling Ellie I’m going to jump ship and move here just so I can be friends with you guys.”
“Please, God, no,” a male voice grumbles from the hallway.
I turn around to see David holding a trashbag and scowling, Griffin following close behind him with a bin of leftover decor, and shaking with suppressed laughter.
“One morning with her is enough to know that she’d burn this town to the ground.
Send her back to Seattle, please, I’m begging. ”
“Hey, no boys allowed!” Jenna scolds. “Especially you, whiny baby.” She points a finger at David, then at the front door. “Out you go.”
“Thank you for helping, babe!” Ellie yells to Griffin as he shoves a protesting David out the front door. When the door slams behind him, Ellie and Jenna share a look before doubling over with laughter.
“What on earth did you do to David?” I ask, bewildered. “I have never seen him so grumpy.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what she did,” Ellie gasps, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “But I hope she keeps it up. I know it would be completely unreasonable, but please move here. Even just so we can see more of that.”
“I wish I could,” she chuckles, somewhat bitterly. Her expression darkens, so briefly I think I might have imagined it, but before I can question it, the doorbell rings.
“Guests!” she exclaims, squealing happily as she opens the door to usher the first partygoers into the house. A few girls from the newspaper file in, followed by Andrea, Ellie’s mom, Susan, Madison (Griffin's ex who has actually become a good friend), and a few old classmates.
“That should be nearly everyone,” Ellie says, mostly to herself, looking around the room and taking a headcount. “I think we’re just missing–”
“Where is that pretty girl?” a warm voice hollers as it enters the room. I turn to see Virginia traipse into the room with a present nearly half her size.
“Granny!” I say gleefully. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
“As if I’d miss it,” she says, pinching my cheeks after handing the gift to Ellie to be placed on the table. “Thank you for inviting me, sweetie.”
“Of course, I’m so glad you’re here,” I say, suddenly feeling very emotional. “You and Jack have been so good to me these last few months, it wouldn’t feel right without you.”
“I’ll have you know,” she mutters just loud enough for me to hear. “That my darling grandson is in my house pitching an absolute fit about not being invited to this shindig.”
“I told him it was just for the girls,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You tell him he’s invited to the afterparty–just don’t tell him that the ‘afterparty’ is the girls sitting on the couch while the boys clean everything up. But why isn't he at his apartment, why is he bothering you?"
"That's a very good question," she chuckles. "Every time I talk to him, he's either working or with you."
I pause, my forehead creasing in concentration as I try to remember the last time he stayed at his own place. When I can't pinpoint it, I try to remember the last time he even stopped by there to grab his things. Something uneasy stirs in my stomach when I can't remember that either.
At some point in time, enough of Jack Robb's belongings made it over to my house that he didn't need to go back again.
He's basically been living here for months. Why is that a surprise to you?
“Anyway, the 'afterparty' sounds like an excellent plan,” she says, clapping her hands. “Just what I like to hear. Now if you’ll excuse me a moment, I spy about a dozen sweet treats I’d like to get my hands on.”
“Please do,” I say with a laugh, shaking off the uncomfortable feelings and swooping my arm dramatically, gesturing toward the snack table. “Make sure I don’t have any leftovers or I’ll eat them all by myself within twenty minutes of everyone leaving.”
The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur of small talk, shoveling food into my mouth, and present opening. Ellie graciously agreed not to force me into any stupid baby shower games as long as I promised to open my presents in front of everybody.
Someone in the universe must have heard my pleas, because every single present I opened was something I actually put on my registry–not one rogue (i.e., useless) gift in the bunch.
When I reach the last gift, I realize it’s the enormous one Granny brought in earlier. As I begin to carefully dismantle the exquisite wrapping job, she interjects.
“Now dear, this wasn’t on your registry, but I couldn’t help myself.”
Damn.
But when I remove the paper, there’s no disappointment or annoyance whatsoever. In my hands is one of the most beautiful quilts I’ve ever seen–a stunning, but understated, pattern of green and pink florals with scalloped edges, and a blank space in the bottom corner.
“Once you pick a name for your little one, give it back to me so I can embroider it,” she instructs as I sit silently gaping at the gift. “Jack told me you don’t have one yet, but I wanted you to have it even if it’s not finished yet.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. “This is stunning, Granny. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Every baby deserves a blankie made with love,” she says, waving me off as though she hasn’t just given me the most meaningful thing I’ve ever received. “Something told me your daddy wasn’t going to do it, so I figured somebody had to.”
I rise from my chair, rather ungracefully since I’m now the size of a small bus, and hug her tightly, trying to pour the gratitude I can’t find words for into the embrace.
“Thank you,” I whisper tearfully. “This means so much to me.”
“There, there,” she says, patting me on the back. “You’re quite welcome, dear.”
When we break apart, ours aren’t the only wet eyes in the room.
“All I got you was a stupid bottle warmer,” Jenna says, wiping her eyes.
“Why’d you have to show us all up like that, Virginia?
” A collective chuckle ripples around the room, and friendly chatter resumes as Jenna and Madison begin clearing away the discarded wrapping paper while Ellie diligently documents who brought what for the thank you notes I’m sure she’ll be sending on my behalf.
But all I can do is hug the soft fabric to my chest, silently thanking my lucky stars that in spite of everything, I know Little One will never feel anything but abundantly loved.