Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ALLISON
A girl.
Allison’s hand smoothed over her rounding belly as she licked a strawberry ice cream cone. The heat of June was close and sweet against Allison’s skin as she contemplated this astounding news.
“We’re having a girl,” she whispered to Wells as they walked in the back of the group.
The extended Hot Girl Group Chat—the Parkers and their husbands, Olivia and Luca, Annabelle, Pearl and Reed—had all decided to take a rare afternoon off and descend upon the Fairwick Falls Strawberry Shortcake Festival together.
“This Hot Girl Group Chat is looking suspiciously bearded.” Pearl squinted as she looked around at the tall men flanking them.
“Still hot, though.” Allison waved, fanning the back of her neck with her pocket-sized fan.
“I don’t like you out in this heat,” Wells said, fussing over her.
She sort of loved it.
“When was the last time you put on sunscreen?” He stared at her shoulders that were turning pink in the sun. “Here, walk in my shadow.”
Allison’s cheeks flushed, and she very purposefully did not make eye contact with Pearl, who was giving her just fuck buddies, my ass eyes.
“Your shadow isn’t enough to make the sweat go away though,” Allison said.
They walked up into the shade of the town square gazebo. “You’re pregnant, Allison. You don’t sweat; you glow,” Lily said sweetly. “Speaking of—” Lily stopped and turned to Violet. “Vi?” Lily held out her hand.
“Oh, thank god,” Rose said, leaning over to catch her breath. “Finally, no more secrets.”
“We’re pregnant!” Lily and Violet announced at the same time.
Pearl, Olivia, and Allison all shrieked with excitement. Hugs and back slaps were exchanged all around.
“You’re all due within a couple weeks of each other. It has been impossible to keep all of these secrets from all of you,” Rose said, pushing her sunglasses up on her forehead and shaking her head. “I’m gonna be down three florists.”
“Blame the Frost Fest,” Lily said, squeezing Nash’s butt.
“Ew,” Rose said, right as Pearl yelled, “Hell yeah!”
“Alright.” Gray clapped his hands. “All expectant parents, stay in the shade. The rest of you, you’re with me. We’ll get shortcake for everybody.”
“Even me?” Annabelle piped up.
“You bet, little bestie,” Pearl said, wobbling Annabelle’s head. “I made vegan and allergen-free ones for you and about a hundred of my closest friends.”
The three couples remained in the rotunda—Allison and Wells, Jack and Violet, Lily and Nash—all talking due dates and symptoms. Jack and Violet talked about the merits of sleep philosophies and preschools as the only experienced parents.
As Allison was engrossed in conversation with Lily and Violet about their plans, she looked across the gazebo at Wells, who was kneading the back of his neck.
“Lily and I,” Nash said, pulling Lily onto his lap, “started looking at preschools last year.”
“I’m not even a little bit surprised, Mr. Prepares for Any Emergency,” Jack said in his posh British accent. He turned to Allison. “On our last family vacation, Nash had not one, not two, but three roadside emergency kits, a backup reservation, and a spare bottle of champagne in every vehicle.”
“All of which, I would like to remind you,” Nash said companionably to his brother-in-law, kicking his foot, “we needed.”
“Fair,” Jack said with a laugh as he squeezed Violet’s hand. “Wanna take a turn around the festival for old time’s sake?”
“Only if you pretend to be my boyfriend again,” Violet said with a laugh as she tugged Jack along with her. They took the stroller with their sleeping toddler with them.
“I’m starting to get nauseous in the heat,” Lily said, fanning herself. “Let’s go into the diner. You two want anything? Want to come?”
“I’m good,” Allison lied, wanting time alone with Wells, and waved them off.
Wells sat with his head between his knees, rubbing his temples.
“Hey.” She sat beside him, rubbing his back. “Heat getting to you?”
“I’m not even pregnant,” he muttered, wiping a hand down his face. “No, I just—” He cleared his throat. “It’s nothing.”
“Come on.” She elbowed him. “I recognized a Wells-style spiral from ten feet away.” She nodded to the other side of the gazebo.
“I am not spiraling,” he said, even as he got up to pace.
“We haven’t talked about any of that, though.
What do I know about being a dad? Luca is fucking Super Dad.
Jack is a natural. And Nash, his dad was the best, like…
like Santa Claus. My dad is terrible.” She nodded.
“And yours is terrible.” Allison nodded again.
He paced, yanking on his hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never climbed a tree. I don’t know how to fish. I don’t know how to braid hair. Oh shit, I have to learn how to braid hair. She’s gonna have hair.”
“I hope so,” Allison said, laughing. “But probably not for the first five minutes. You probably have some time,” she said dryly.
“Why did I think I could be a dad? A dad who doesn’t know how to catch a fish to feed his child. This is ridiculous. This is the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.” He paced back and forth.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Allison said, standing up as Wells pulled at the ends of his hair again. “Please leave my second-favorite hair of yours alone.”
She held his hands.
“I don’t know anything about girls,” he said, his brows creased in worry.
“I do. Generally speaking, they’re roughly the same as boys. Look, you fixed the diner after you totally screwed it up. And that took, what, three, four months?” She shrugged. “We’ve got another four and a half. You’ve got time.”
She squeezed his hands, his fingers now interlaced with hers.
“You’re a lawyer. Just treat it like you’re studying for the bar.
You’re smart and you’re capable and there’s also no way out of this,” she said with a teasing smile that made him chuckle.
“If you’re worried whether you’re going to be good at this, you’re miles ahead of everybody else.
” She gulped, her heartbeat fluttering. “And I’ve seen how you take care of me, and though you’re a little bullheaded—”
He scoffed.
“Okay, a lot bullheaded,” she corrected, and he chuckled. “You do just fine. In fact…” She paused.
I’ve never been taken care of so well in my whole life.
“What?” he said, looking concerned.
“Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head.
No feelings.
“Just take deep breaths,” she said, putting her hands on his chest and breathing with him.
“I’m guessing I can’t put my hands on your chest?”
She slapped him playfully. She took a deep breath, and he mimicked her. They breathed out a long sigh together as Olivia and Pearl came back with two handfuls of strawberry shortcake.
“Hey, Shortcake finally gets some shortcake,” Wells said, pointing to Allison’s stomach.
“See? Already a pro at dad humor,” Allison said with a teasing smile.
“Would you mind going and helping them with the rest?” Olivia asked Wells.
“On it,” Wells said, turning around.
“Hmm.” Pearl laughed as she and Olivia exchanged glances.
“That looked suspiciously like you liiiiike him,” Olivia said as she and Pearl sat down on either side of Allison.
She was feeling very specifically cornered.
“Nope,” Allison said, taking her shortcake from Olivia. “Just co-parents. Platonic partners to raise nameless baby Styles-Maroo.”
Olivia arched her eyebrow. “Nothing about your smiles and that sparkling look of his looked platonic.”
“Were you platonically coming out of his house at seven a.m. this morning?” Pearl said innocently, teasing her.
“Where I sleep is none of your business, Pearl Agatha Bishop Berry,” Allison said.
“Ooh, full name,” Olivia teased. “Speaking of names, have any favorites yet?” Olivia asked as the rest of them came back with armfuls of strawberry shortcake heaped with whipped cream.
Allison shook her head as she devoured her ice cream and shortcake. “No front-runners yet.”
“Brunhilda Styles-Maroo has an amazing ring to it,” Wells said victoriously.
They all groaned.
“Bronwyn,” Allison yelled back.
“How on earth do you spell that?” Nash asked.
“I like Ophelia,” Olivia offered.
“Too much baggage.” Pearl shook her head.
“Maybe try one that’s not a Shakespearean tragedy?” Reed shrugged.
“Dagbar,” Wells called out, and they all groaned again. “What? My great-aunt Dagbar was amazing.”
Annabelle ran around the gazebo, handing out wildflowers from the town square grounds.
“Daisy,” Allison said, putting one behind her ear with a smirk.
Wells caught her eye—a moment just between the two of them—and smiled. “Daisy,” he echoed, their eyes dancing.
At the end of their excursion, Allison found herself parked in Wells’s driveway as the sun set.
He tugged her inside. “You’re just using me for my A/C,” he said, kissing her as he spoke.
As the blissful, cool, crisp air chilled Allison’s skin, she agreed. “You have excellent A/C,” she moaned as his hand found her breast. “And an excellent penis.”
He chuckled into her neck as he deftly removed her dress.
Hours later, after showers, dinner, and one more mustache ride were had, the nighttime symphony of crickets serenaded them, their limbs twined together in the dark. Wells snored gently beside her.
Time to go before I fall asleep again.
She moved to slide out from his bed, but his arm tightened around her, keeping her in place.
“Don’t go,” he whispered against her hair.
A fluttering of something that felt much more than platonic partnership beat in her chest.
She settled back down into his arms, and he snuggled her closer. She nuzzled into his pillowy chest that was now her favorite place to sleep.
She willed herself to go to sleep, trying to calm the fluttering feelings.
Feelings that started to feel an awful lot like falling for the gently snoring bear of a man wrapped around her.
WELLS
Week 23: Your baby is the size of 8 ceramic kitten figurines
“Isn’t it adorable?” Allison made a ta-da motion at a Victorian ghost’s crib.