4. “Friday I’m In Love”
“FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE”
The sun was setting on Main Street, and Jocelyn was beyond ready to call it a day. As the festival wound down, vendors packed up their goods and emptied the thoroughfare. She was just about to escape when Wren and Greyson returned.
“Hey, Joce.”
“I thought you guys left.”
“We caught a movie.”
“Oh. Nice.”
Wren rubbed her belly. “There was a musician playing guitar by my aunt’s store. I got her business card for you.”
Jocelyn took the card. “Awesome. I’ll give her a call.”
Wren studied her for a quiet moment. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Me? Nothing. Probably just writing.”
“Why don’t you come over for dinner? It’s been a while. You can see the progress Grey’s made in the nursery, and I can show you the wallpaper samples I picked up.”
“I don’t know, Wren—”
“Please. I could really use your opinion.”
Wren did so much for everyone else that it was impossible to turn her down whenever she asked for something. “Okay. But I have to drop Cordelia off first.”
“That’s fine. We’ll see you in a bit.”
On the way home, she called the musician and asked if she’d like to move off the corner of Main Street and into a more prominent area by the gazebo at the wharf. She was thrilled by the offer and accepted right away.
When Jocelyn got to Greyson’s cabin that night, it looked different. An enormous addition bolted out the back where they were building a master bedroom, master bath, and deluxe nursery for the baby.
Jocelyn retrieved the bottle of wine she brought as a hostess gift, despite the hostess being pregnant, and walked up the front steps. She entered without knocking. “Anybody home?”
“In the kitchen,” Wren called as The Cure played softly from a hidden device.
Jocelyn followed the scent of Mexican cuisine. “Smells delicious.”
Taco shells sat empty on a tray beside chopped lettuce and tomatoes as some kind of protein sizzled on the stove. Rat, Greyson’s enormous Maine Coon cat, greeted her, entwining its lithe body around her legs.
“Does this thing ever stop growing?”
Wren laughed. “It would seem not. Last time we took him to the vet, he was twenty-three pounds.”
“Wow.” She immediately thought about the Great Dane Soren now had to contend with. What was he thinking?
Wren pointed to her wine. “Let me get you a corkscrew and a glass for that.”
“Thanks.” Jocelyn settled in on a counter stool. “Where’s Grey?”
“Out back showing something to Logan.”
“Logan’s here?”
“He just stopped by to borrow a tool.” She slid a glass onto the counter. “Pour yourself some wine, then I’ll show you the progress on the nursery.”
Greyson’s cabin was a work of masterful craftsmanship.
He’d built it slowly, over the course of ten years, and never once hired a contractor.
If there was something he wanted, he learned how to do it himself.
So it was no surprise that the new addition qualified as stunning even months before completion.
The master bedroom had cathedral ceilings and a cupola to let natural light in. “This is gorgeous, Wren.”
“I know. Grey’s amazing. Not that I’m surprised. You’ve seen my studio he built. Anything he creates is beautiful.”
“Yeah, just imagine how beautiful your child will be.”
Wren flushed and gave her that squish look that only came out when Jocelyn showed her hidden sweetness.
“That’s sweet, Joce.”
Her happiness for her friend was unaffected by the pinch of envy that sometimes intruded. “Show me the baby’s room.”
The nursery was just as impressive as the master bedroom. Octagonal with a built-in bunk bed that doubled as a castle fort. It was like something out of a fairytale.
“These are the wallpaper samples I picked.” Wren spread several swatches across a plywood work table. “I think the forest and the anchors are my favorite, but they’re both so different I can’t decide which I like best.”
“What if it’s a girl?”
“Oh, if it’s a girl, I have this.” She revealed a whimsical garden print made of watercolor hues and loose, bohemian lines.
“That’s perfect.” It was very Wren.
Greyson appeared, holding Wren’s flip-flops. “Wren, you can’t walk in here without shoes.”
“I was just showing Jocelyn the wallpaper samples.”
He bent to put the sandals on his wife’s swollen feet. “You shouldn’t be on your feet anyway.” He kissed her temple. “There’s sawdust everywhere, and you could step on a nail.”
“You worry too much.”
“I worry the correct amount.” He walked her out of the room and Jocelyn was left standing alone in the unfinished space.
She took in the rafters and fine detail of every molding, dragging her hand over the smoothly sanded trim work. In three more months, a little human would live there. With Wren. And nothing would ever be the same again.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
Jocelyn turned and smiled at Greyson’s youngest brother. “Logan, where have you been?”
He leaned against the unpainted door frame with casual ease. “Around. How’s it going?”
Jocelyn shrugged. “Same old shit, different day.” She sipped her wine.
Logan’s stare followed her hand. “What are you drinking?”
“Merlot. Want a glass?”
“Sure.” He followed her back to the kitchen where Jocelyn poured more wine.
Over supper, they discussed the plans for Wren’s cottage. Bodhi was moving into his daughter’s old place, and his smaller cottage was being renovated into one of the Haven’s guest cabins.
“Who’s doing that renovation?”
“I am,” Greyson said with a frown, as if insulted that she’d think he’d allow anyone else to touch his wife’s property.
Jocelyn made an apologetic gesture. “No offense. It just looked like your hands were a little full here.”
“I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can.”
Logan topped off her wine, shaking out the last few drops. “Grey, what else do you have to drink around here?”
Greyson found his brother another bottle of red, and Logan made the switch easily.
When they cleared the dishes away, Greyson affectionately cornered his wife by the sink, whispering softly as he kissed her and gently rubbed her lower back. It was hard not to notice.
“They really make it look easy, don’t they?” Logan commented, following her stare.
“Yeah, they do.”
Jocelyn’s mind once again flashed to the memory of that old-money blonde chick kissing Soren. Would they share the kind of ease Wren and Greyson had?
She drew in a deep breath and let it out. When Wren and Grey started to really kiss, she and Logan politely looked away.
“So… Any new books?”
She appreciated the small talk. “I have one coming out in a few days.”
“I keep telling you, if you ever need a cover model, I’m available.”
She laughed. “I’ll have my people get in touch with your people.”
Greyson returned a moment later. “Logan, why don’t you help me unload the truck while the girls wrap up?”
Wren appeared, carrying a recognizable box from The Harbor Crumb, and Jocelyn’s eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?”
Wren laughed and set the pastry box on the table. “Since you’re technically company, I convinced Greyson we needed dessert.” She opened the box to reveal a freshly baked apple pie. “I couldn’t talk him into ice cream, but Esther’s pies are so good I doubt we’ll need it.”
“You should tell Greyson to worry about his own figure and leave you alone.”
“It’s not my figure he’s worried about. It’s my glucose. The doctor insisted we watch my sugar intake.”
“God, you’re turning into such an adult. I don’t even know what glucose is. Are you okay? I had no idea.”
“I’m fine. It’s just a pregnancy thing. It’s really not a big deal if you manage it. And, once the baby’s born, everything usually goes back to normal.”
“Everything?” Jocelyn lifted her brows, and Wren looked down at her engorged chest.
“I know. I’m huge. My nipples are unrecognizable. And I’m starting to freak out about childbirth.”
She squeezed her hand to offer some supportive courage. “You’ll be fine, Wren. You’ll have the baby exactly as planned, in a peaceful birthing pool with a doula chanting over you while Greyson rubs you down with lavender and Enya plays in the background.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Of course it is.” She refilled her wine glass and unearthed the pie. “Where’s a knife?”
“I left it on the counter.”
When she moved to stand, Jocelyn jumped to her feet. “You sit. I’ll get it.”
“Thanks. My feet are killing me. I overdid it today.”
When Jocelyn returned and cut into the pie, Wren studied her for a long minute.
“You know you can talk to me, Joce.”
“I know.”
“About anything. I’d never judge you.”
“I know that, too.”
Wren quietly wrung her napkin, then she exploded, “I can’t take it anymore!”
Jocelyn flinched, still holding the knife. “What?”
“I know about you and Soren.”
Jocelyn drew back, waiting for her heart rate to drop. “Excuse me?”
“You and Soren. I know about you two. I’ve known for a while.”
“What are you talking about?”
“No way are you denying this, Jocelyn. It was bad enough knowing and waiting for you to confide in me all this time. We’re not doing the thing where you actually lie to me.
I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me this stuff.
” Her voice broke before she got the last sentence out. “Cut me a big piece of pie.”
“Jesus, Wren. Don’t cry.” She slid her a large slice.
“Well, you’ve been lying to me!” She blew her nose into the crumpled napkin. “And I don’t mean to cry, but pregnancy makes me extra emotional. I’m not even upset. I’m pissed.”
“You’re pissed?”
“Yes! It’s been eighteen months, Jocelyn.”
Holy shit, she even had the date right. This was bad.
Jocelyn handed her a fork. “Look, it’s nothing.”
“Nothing? You’ve never been with anyone longer than a night.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m not saying that to judge your lifestyle. I’m just saying, if you’ve been sleeping with the same guy for a year and a half, it’s definitely something. I saw you today when that blonde whore showed up.”
Taken aback by Wren’s fierce words, she gaped and laughed. “Do you even know her?”
“No. But who the hell does she think she is, kissing Soren like that?”
“She could be a perfectly nice person, Wren.”