I walk into the kitchen, where Suki is drying a dish and Olivia, Charlotte and Hallie are all watching Harry pipe frosting onto a three-tier cake.
“I’ll get it,” I say. “I figured you guys would shop all day.”
She shrugs. “We were hungry, and then the roads were getting bad, so we decided to come home.”
Her hair is up in a loose bun and she’s wearing leggings and an Ohio sweatshirt. She and Carter had a whirlwind start to their relationship. It started back when she was working as his nanny after he got custody of his sister’s three daughters when she passed away. Now it feels like they’ve been together forever.
“That cake for me?” I ask the girls.
“No, but you can have some,” Hallie says. “It has a chocolate cake, a white cake, and a chocolate chip cake.”
“Nice.”
“Like I said, make sure you get pictures as soon as it’s done,” Suki says. “We have an accident-prone pig on the loose.”
“Hey Harry,” I say to the tall, lean man holding a bag of frosting with a tip up to the cake.
“Hi, Lucien. How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Good to have a day off. How’s the restaurant?”
“Busy. But that’s a good thing.”
“Can we go sledding?” Charlotte, the middle girl, asks me.
They still remember the time Leo, Isaac and I took them out on a day off last season so Carter and Suki could have some time alone. We went sledding, had burgers and shakes at a place that stuck all kinds of cakes and candy on top of the milkshakes, and played arcade games for hours.
I spent more than three hundred bucks on arcade tokens, and it was worth every penny for the big stuffed unicorn we all pooled our tickets to get for Hallie.
“Yeah, I’d be down for sledding,” I say.
“Okay, the hard part is done,” Harry says, handing the bag of light-blue frosting to Olivia. “Now you can write something.”
“What should I write?”
“Happy Birthday,” Charlotte says, her tone implying it’s obvious.
“I don’t know if I can fit that. I’ll try.”
“Luce, bring me another beer!” Leo calls from the living room.
“Do I look like your wife?”
“No, you did not,” Mara calls out.
They aren’t married yet, but she doesn’t let jokes like that slide.
When I walk back into the living room, Talia’s eyes find mine again, and she’s fighting a smile. “You two do have similar hair.”
“Anyone else want one?” I ask.
“I’ll take a gin and tonic,” Mara says. “With generous ice and a lime wedge, please.”
I scoff, though I’m not at all offended. “So I’m the bartender?”
“Don’t worry, I tip well,” Mara says.
“You want anything, Talia?” I ask.
