Maggie looked at her. “Proud of you. That sounds like something I’d say.”
“You must be rubbing off on me,” Emma grinned. Looking at me, she asked. “What happened with your parents?”
I shrugged, knowing this was going to sound worse than it was. “They called Sunday night to let me know they wouldn’t be around for Christmas. Addie and I usually visit them once a year, but they’ll be on a trip with their friends to France this year.”
“Cuntbagwhorefuckerbitch,” Maggie muttered, sitting up again.
“What the heck is that?” I asked.
“Whoa.” Emma gave Maggie a look. “That’s Maggie’s middle school word for when she would be really mad. All the bad words she loved in one, but I haven’t heard it for years.”
Surprisingly, I noticed that Maggie’s eyes were welling with tears. At the beginning of her pregnancy she’d cried easily, but that let up since she got in her second trimester. “Mags? You okay?”
Maggie wiped her eyes. “Sorry, babe. I just admire you so much. You are a hell of a mom to that little girl of yours, and you’ve done an unbelievable job raising her. I just hate that you have had to do that on your own. The people that should be there for you seem to be letting you down over and over. I hate that.” She took a stuttering breath. “And now you are on your own for Christmas? Not happening.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “No idea if this kid will be in utero or out by the time the holiday hits, but you’re welcome to celebrate with us.”
Emma leaned over to place her hand on mine on the coffee table. “Yes, Ivy. Please come celebrate at my parents.”
Warmth flooded me. These women were certainly becoming my own version of my family, and it was not one that was going to let me down. “Thanks, ladies, but Jake has already insisted that Ads and I join the Spencers.”
Maggie and Emma glanced at each other, then back to me with wide smiles stretching on both their faces.
“Did he now?” Maggie asked, wagging her eyebrows up and down. “Maybe we should go back to that quick list of what all has been happening between you too. Horizontal dancing? Was it all you hoped for?”
I looked to Emma, then Maggie, then my own Cheshire cat grin appeared. “And more.”
We all hooted with laughter. That was better, lighter.
I looked around, feeling the warmth of Nana everywhere. She approved.
24
Fire and Rain
Jake
Laurie and I looked over the reservations book for tonight. Not crazy for a Thursday, but it certainly wouldn’t be quiet. The first reservations would begin rolling closer to six, so we still had some time. Right now was the calm before the storm as the staff prepared stations and familiarized themselves with the specials for the night.
“Anything we need to be ready for tonight?” I asked, scanning the reservation list.
Laurie looked over her notes. “Severe nut allergy coming in at six thirty. They’ve been in before. Mom is cautious, and rightly so. Any cross contamination for her kid and they’re headed to the ER.”
“Yikes,” I muttered, thinking through our menu. “And we can assure them that it will be safe?”
Laurie nodded. “Yep. That’s why she gives us a heads-up. I let Pete know in advance, and he ensures that everything is good on our end.”
“Okay,” I looked over at the windows to the tank room and saw Sully pulling some beer out to sample. “Let me know if you need anything else from us.”
“Will do,” Laurie said, reaching for the phone. “Homestead Brewery…”
I weaved through the empty tables, noting the quiet hum of the servers talking. Typically, the brewery would be filled with a background of music, but several employees were gathered in the bar area, watching the preshow for tonight’s game. The Bears were on Thursday night football, and there were some questions about who was going to be able to play. I called over to Adam and Dan who were watching. “Sound off, captions and music on, in the next fifteen.” I got a chin lift from Adam, so I knew they’d get on it and then get back to work shortly.
Reaching the tank room, I saw that Sully had poured out two small glasses of one of our current beers we were brewing. Our goal was to have it out for the Reds of Christmas event next month, if not before. It was a West Coast IPA. We figured the pine flavor would tie it to the holiday.
“You try it yet?” I asked, looking Sully over. The man looked exhausted, and the baby wasn’t even here yet. “Sully, you okay? Looking like you’ve pulled an all-nighter.”
Sully tossed the towel he was holding over his shoulder. “No, haven’t tried it yet. Waiting on you.” Running a hand through his hair, he muttered, “And I’m fucking exhausted. There’s just so much I want to get done before the baby comes, and Maggie won’t sit around with her feet up. I feel like half my time is following her around to make sure she relaxes a bit.”
I snorted before picking up the glass. “Maggie? Sit around and put her feet up? I think you forget who you married.”
