Will laughs.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Although I could’ve done without it being in a barn.”
Caroline thrusts the baby at Ansel, who takes it with as much skill as she did.
“Right. They’re clearly in good shape. I’ll go and check on Freyja, then be back to take a look at the umbilicus and give them a proper once over.”
Ethan and I are left stunned in her wake, but Will and Ansel are clearly used to the whirlwind that is Caroline.
“Ansel, this is my brother, Ethan. And his … friend, Sadie. In case you hadn’t spotted the likenesses, Ansel and Caroline are Freyja’s parents.”
There’s a flurry of hand shaking and nice-to-meet-you’s before a slightly awkward silence falls. Will is starting to look exhausted, Ethan looks vaguely uncomfortable, and I’m guessing Caroline is the talker between her and Ansel.
I hold up the platter I’ve been working on. “Anyone for a sandwich?”
Freyja’s mum is a midwife and doula, and Will decides he might as well follow her and check on Freyja, so he pops the baby Ansel is holding back in the basket with its twin and disappears, muttering about baby checkups and getting the official seal of approval from Caroline.
“So. Ansel Hooper. Would I be right in thinking you wrote a book on the connections between Roman, Greek and Viking mythology?” Ethan asks.
Which is exactly the right question to get the reticent Ansel talking until the new family emerge from the bedroom.
“Caroline says their little belly-buttons are perfect. I was a bit worried since I’d had to improvise to clamp their cords, but it’s all good.” There’s a mixture of pride and relief in Will’s voice as he settles Freyja on the couch with adorable care and the babies, sleeping soundly in their basket, are set in the middle of the table for everyone to admire.
No sooner are we all relaxing on the massive couches with sandwiches and cups of tea than there’s a cheerful knock on the door. The district nurse is full of apologies for not getting here on time. The tussle that ensues between the nurse, who wants to tick this job off her list, and Caroline, who insists she’s checked mum and babies out thoroughly, has everyone attempting to hold back smiles. I’m not the least bit surprised when Caroline wins the oh-so-polite argument and the nurse scuttles back to her car.
“Too little, too late,” mutters the tiny but fierce Caroline as she closes the front door with a distinct snap, and none of us can hold back our laughs.
I’m about to brew another pot of tea when the front door bursts open, and no less than eight adults toting three small children rush into the living room, all talking at once.
It’s pandemonium.
A tiny woman with silver hair, who I take to be Ethan’s mother, hugs Will and Freyja in turn before folding Ethan up in a hug. The love for her children, who tower over her, is clear on her face. As is their love for her. I don’t miss the look of longing she shoots at Ethan, as though all she wants is to gather him into her arms and hold on tight. I swallow down a lump. What a lucky man he is, despite the tragedy he’s endured.
And I’ve never seen so many good-looking people together in one room. Ethan’s friend Nick has a profile that belongs on the cover of a romance book and his wife, Lulu, bears more than a passing resemblance to Blake Lively. Ethan’s younger brother, Ben, looks like a model. A look that is in no way diminished by the sleeping baby he’s holding in the baby carrier. His wife, Rosanna, reminds me of an Italian movie star. And Greer, Ethan’s sister, has the most glorious red hair I’ve ever seen. Her partner, Josh, the apparent bad boy of the group with his man bun and tattoos, must notice my bemused expression.
“It’s a lot when we all get together. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”
I suspect he has the wrong idea about who I am and why I’m here, but it’s too chaotic to explain it right now.
The babies are passed from person to person for the seal of approval without even stirring. I don’t know anything about babies, but they look cute. If a little red and crumpled.
I pull more fabulous sourdough bread out of the freezer—this is a remarkably well-stocked kitchen—defrost it, and get started on making more sandwiches, which I pile on platters and put on the coffee table to be hoovered up by the hungry crowd. WhenEthan offers to make tea, his father, Harry, waves him off and opens the bottles of champagne he brought.
“To the newest Carters …” He pauses and cocks a questioning eyebrow at Will, who is standing proudly behind Freyja.
“Theo and Cora,” Will supplies.
“To Theo and Cora,” everyone cheers.
Finally, the noise level starts to die down to happy chatter.
“So. You’re Sadie,” says Ben, dropping onto the footstool next to my chair. That seems like an odd way to phrase it. Surely Ethan hasn’t mentioned me to his family? Because there’s nothing to mention.
Blue eyes, much lighter than Ethan’s but just as perceptive, search my face. Everyone has fallen silent. Watching. Waiting for an answer. I look at Ethan for guidance
“Sadie is one of my tutoring assistants and a PhD student. She was kind enough to drive me down because of the eye test. And the drops.” Thank God for Ethan’s poker face. And thank God he left out the whole meet-cute one-night stand story.
“Oh,” sighs Ethan’s mother, sounding disappointed. And is it my imagination or do Greer’s shoulders slump ever so slightly? Everyone looks vaguely glum for a moment, except for Diana, who hides a knowing smirk behind her teacup.
