Whit
I pluck yet another dog hair from my throw blanket, silently cursing Betty for how much she sheds. Last week I bought her the plushest dog bed I could find, yet she still insists on stealing this blanket to create a nest on the floor any chance she gets.
Blair crunches on a tortilla chip. Something about her seems off today, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. I assumed after two full weeks of endless sex and drinking margaritas in the sun, she’d be positively radiant.
“So, tell me how your honeymoon went,” I prompt her.
Her muscles relax a little, shoulders sinking a full inch. “Oh, it was so good. I could’ve spent a full month on the beach, but it was a bit of a stretch to sneak away for two weeks.”
Despite Blair’s insistence that they couldn’t possibly accept a paid vacation to Mexico as a wedding gift—citing the need to help care for our mom and work at the clinic, and Denny needing to be at the ranch—my parents and Denny pushed back harder.
“Maybe next year you can go again. Make it an annual anniversary trip.”
Her nose scrunches. “Yeah, I don’t know if that’ll be possible.”
This is where my sister and I are fundamentally different. If somebody presents me with an opportunity to clock out of work and read smut next to a pool? Say less.
The room falls silent again, save for the television’s endless loop of trailers for movies they think I’ll enjoy.
“And how’s married life?” Does Denny have to work this hard to get her talking?
“Oh, good. Really good.” The corner of her lip pulls up. “Better than I could’ve imagined, honestly. Denver’s…he’s so good to me.”
“I’m happy for you.” My tone is genuine. “You deserve to have someone love you like that.”
Adjusting her positioning on the couch and plucking at the front of her shirt, she nods. “You do, too.”
For the first time in my life, not only do I agree with her about the sentiment, it feels like I’ve found it. Though only a month has passed since Blair and Denny’s wedding night, I can confidently say I’ve never felt this way about someone.
“Colt’s been the best thing to happen to me…and to Jonas. I wish I’d met him years sooner. He treats Jonas like his own son, which makes me incredibly happy…but also, kind of sad, ya know? Like why couldn’t Alex put in half as much effort?”
“Have you talked to Alex recently?”
“Unfortunately.” I roll my eyes. “I mean…he’s putting in more effort than ever before. I’d probably be pretty damn impressed if it weren’t for Colt doing so much more for a kid who isn’t biologically his. But, yeah, Alex has been picking Jonas up from therapy every Thursday.”
She half-laughs. “You’re right. Six months ago you’d be sucking that man’s dick just because he drove his kid home from therapy once a week.”
Ew. She’s right and I fucking hate that.
I make a gagging face. “Please don’t remind me of how low my standards were.”
“But now you have Colt, so it wasn’t all for nothing. If Alex was involved, then Jonas wouldn’t have gone to the ranch, and you might never have met.” She fidgets with her shirt again. “Maybe some things happen for a reason.”
Something about being in love has melted my sister’s logic-based brain.
“I imagine we still would’ve met…we were both going to be at your wedding regardless.”
“Okay, valid. But you probably wouldn’t have even talked.”
She’s not wrong. Upon first glance, I was convinced he wasn’t my type, and it wasn’t until he wormed his way into my life that I realized how incredible he is. So I nod in agreement, reaching for the bowl of chips to find she’s devoured almost the entire thing.
“Speaking of everything happening for a reason, I have something I want to talk to you about. And I don’t really know how…”
“You don’t know how? Just say it. I’m your sister so whatever—”
“I’m pregnant.” She winces like she’s expecting me to hit her or scream or react in some negative way.
Tears well in my eyes, but they aren’t out of anger. Sure, a tinge of momentary jealousy floods my nervous system, but it’s quickly replaced with so much fucking love, my bones ache. “Blair, oh my God. You are? Since when?”
“I only took the test yesterday, so I’m like…barely pregnant. I haven’t even told Cass yet. I wanted—needed—to talk to you first.”
“Are we excited about this?” I search her face for a hint about how to react.
“So excited.” She pats her fingertips at the wetness pooling under her eyes. “So fucking excited, Whit.”
“Now I’m extra thankful you and Denny moved in down the street. Whenever I have to deal with Jonas’s attitude, I’m coming over for baby snuggles.”
“So you’ll be over every day.” She laughs through her tears. “Noted.”
I crawl across the couch, wrapping my arms around her as tears stream down both of our faces.
For a long time—through at least four movie trailers—we stay that way without either uttering a word.
When I finally sit back up, she blinks away the last of her tears.
Her cheeks are flushed, eyelashes soaked, and despite all the happiness bubbling right under the surface, there’s a tinge of trepidation in her smile.
“You can be happy about this. I’m happy for you. I’m okay.” I sniff. “I might’ve had a negative reaction to finding out about Alex having another kid, but I’m so fucking excited to snuggle my future niece or nephew. And more than that, you and Denny deserve this.
“Being a mom is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Sure, sometimes it’s also absolute dogshit, and you can vent to me when you have a preteen who loves to point out all the things you’re doing wrong.
But it’s all worth it, B. The amount of love you’re about to feel for this tiny human is unlike anything else. ”
“I was a little nervous to tell you, but—”
My heart sinks. “I’m sorry. You should’ve been able to barge in the door waving a pregnancy test in my face and jumping for joy. Let’s try again.”
I stand, ushering her toward the front door, even as she’s laughing and arguing that it’s too cold to go outside with no shoes or sweater on. I push her through and shut it in her face.
And when she steps back inside less than thirty seconds later, waving an invisible pregnancy test in the air, we laugh and we scream and we cry a whole lot more.
· · ·
Colt’s voice rings through the house.
Turning the dryer on, I step out into the hallway and shut the door to dampen the racket. I pass Jonas on the stairs and give his hair a quick ruffle, which he groans about. Betty’s right behind him, happily trotting into his bedroom to sprawl out on his bed while he plays video games.
“Hi, beautiful,” Colt greets me at the bottom of the stairs. His voice drops a few octaves, taking on a sensual gruffness, and his head motions toward the laundry room. “Is that a sign that you need me to ‘fix your dryer’ for you?”
I hug him, because feeling his firm chest and strong arms wrapped around my body is the only thing I’ve been able to think about since Blair left an hour ago. He’s my person. My safe space.
“Are you crying?” His thumb catches under my jaw, trying to lift my eyes to meet his.
I am crying, though I don’t fully understand why.
“What’s the matter?” he asks softly, keeping me close as he walks us toward the couch.
And when I stumble back, falling into the well-worn cushions, he’s quick to sit down next to me.
Our legs brush and his thumb scrubs across my cheek.
He leans in and kisses my forehead, letting his lips linger until I let out a breathy exhale indicating I’m ready to talk.
“Blair’s pregnant.”
“Oh…” His eyes narrow. “Honey, I’m…shit. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m happy for her. Like really happy for her. Both her and Denny. They needed this happy ending after everything they went through when they were younger.”
“So we’re crying because…we’re happy?”
“I don’t even know.” I snort a laugh at myself.
“I’m just crying. I’m feeling all the things today, I guess.
One of them being the need to tell you that…
if a baby is something you really want, we can find a way.
I was quick to shut down your suggestion of adoption, which was really fucking selfish. I want us to be a family forever, so…”
“Our family—we’re already a family, and it’s going to be a forever thing—it can be whatever we decide it needs to be. We don’t need to decide right this second or even a few years from now.”
“I’m just saying…”
He takes my hand in his, callused skin sliding across my trembling fingers. “If Denny and Blair’s baby gives me baby fever—and somehow Jonas’s smelly socks and ruthless insults don’t immediately squash it—we’ll talk about it. But right now, this is exactly where I want to be. Right here. With you.”
“That’s where I want you, too. Here.”
He leans in, lips brushing lightly over mine in an almost-kiss. “Then I guess we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.”