I nod even though the question isn’t directed at me and say, “Sweden even offers paternity leave.”
“Really?” Audrey says.
“And it’s like a whole year,” JP adds. “Meanwhile, you just had a baby two weeks ago and you’re already thinking about going back.”
“My God, we’re moving to Sweden, Austin!” Emily shouts, and I laugh.
“Done,” he responds, pulling into my mother’s ridiculously long and beautiful driveway. It’s odd to find a driveway beautiful, especially with weather like this. Overcast. Rainy. Gray. But it is. The pressed stone is wet and sleek, reminding me of how it looks when they purposely hose down the pavement on a movie set. The lawn is lush and green, and the bushes are clipped and full despite being in the dead of a Washington winter. We always hope for snow here on the holidays and it rarely comes. One year not long ago we did get a snowstorm, but it really just covered all of Seattle in a sheath of ice. Residents went viral for sliding down hilly sidewalks, unable to stop until they reached the bottom.
I hold my breath as Austin puts the car in park, and I make eye contact with my niece for two seconds before Anjali goes crossed eyed trying to focus with her newborn eyes before drifting back to sleep. Austin hops out of the car to open his wife’s door, and the backseat grownups shuffle out one by one. Istay focused on the car seat, moving the bar handle up so I can unlatch the seat and carry her inside.
“Want help?” JP asks behind me. He’s already unclipped Alyson from her seat, letting her totter off to my mom, who welcomes her with open arms.
His voice is hushed like he’s telling me a secret, and I do my best not to display the effect he has on me.
“Uh, sure,” I answer, not even making eye contact because I am an infant. I hold out the diaper bag. “Can you take this?”
“Of course.” He slings the strap over his shoulder. I take note of how well it suits him in a very sexy-dad way even though he isn’t a dad. I blink away. I sling the car seat over my forearm, careful to keep the seat level for the sleeping beauty.
“You got engaged,” I blurt, hating how devastated my voice sounds.
JP blanches. His steps stop completely. I don’t know why I said this right now. We’re ten feet away from my mother, my sister, my brother-in-law, and his fiancée. I glance longingly at Audrey as she pulls away from an embrace from my mother and looks at JP. I can tell by her curious expression that he’s still looking at me. I turn to him quickly.
“Forget I said that.” Then I swallow and plaster a smile on my face. “Hey, Granny! Look who I have that can’t wait to see you!”
My mother laughs one of those pretentious laughs that reminds me of the charms on a store door. “Well, she certainly looks ready to party,” she coos at the sleeping infant. She’s only eight pounds, but the weight of the car seat is digging into my arm and cutting off the circulation to my hand. My thumb is turning lavender in the winter daylight.
“Let me take that,” Austin says, probably noticing my suffocating phalanges.
“Oh, gosh, sorry, Julia. I got excited to see Mom and forgot about my baby.” Emily lets out an embarrassing laugh. “Wow.That’s terrible to say. What if—oh God, what if I actually forgot her in the car.”
Mom links her arm around hers, giving her a soft pat. “Oh, honey, you wouldn’t be the first.”
I let out a breath that takes all nine steps up to the front door to completely leave my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” JP whispers in my ear. He does it in passing—a breath, a hum—as undetectable as leaves rustling in the trees or the turning of a page.
I look at him, staying silent. Is he sorry he got engaged? Or sorry I didn’t?
Whatever he was going to say doesn’t even matter. He’s engaged now. I don’t have a claim on him. I never did.
“Julia, can you get your sister some water and see if anyone else would like anything?”
My attention zeroes in on my mother, and I try to remember if she said hello in the last two minutes since we came inside. She might have smiled. Nodded, even. But no hug. No hello. Not even a,how was your flight?
This is why I’m staying at my sister’s house.
“Sure,” I say before escaping to the kitchen. Mom’s housekeeper, Janessa, is placing sandwiches on white trays and setting out bowls next to the two dutch ovens filled with soup. I already know one is broccoli cheddar and the other is tomato.
“Hi, Miss Julia,” Janessa says.
“Oh, just Julia.” I wave her off, and she smiles. “I’m here to grab some drinks for everyone.”
Janessa grabs a tray with a French press, filled to the brim, cream and sugar in antique dishes I have never seen before, and six teacups. A second tray has a pitcher of cucumber water and six glasses and I grab it, following her back into the living room.
I try not to look at him but JP jumps up as soon as I enter and strides over in four swift steps. I count them with my heartbeats—two for every step. He takes the tray from me and places it on the coffee table, turning to take the tray from Janessa.
“Oh, wow, Audrey, you’re marrying a real gem,” my mother says.
