“You won’t be drinking alone! Lilah, Ophelia, Annalise, and Isla are all still coming, right? And the guys will all be drinking.”
“I know, it’s fine, I was kidding. I’m not concerned about that at all. I’m actually really happy for you—for the both of you,” Tabitha said, putting her arms around both of us. “There’s nothing like being pregnant with your bestie, and having a baby close in age to your bestie. Then your babies can be besties, too!”
“I know, I’ve been so excited about that,” Sage admitted, catching my eye. Hers were watering a little.
I was still stunned, but a good, happy stunned. “Well, congratulations. Guess this explains why you had all those nasty ginger candies in your purse.” I chuckled, wiping a tear from my own eye.
I’d already been looking to Sage for guidance, what with her having been through this once with Daphne. Now that I knew we would be going through the same things at the same time, I felt less alone—and, dare I say, more excited.
“Sure does,” she giggled. “I’m surprised you didn’t guess it sooner.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry for being so self-involved.”
“Oh stop, you’ve been preoccupied with your own news, and with moving here and starting a new job. You’ve got so much going on!”
“Nix knows, right?”
“Yeah, he’s the only one so far. Other than him, nobody knows about Nellie, and nobody knows about me.”
“So, this is in the vault. Got it,” Tabitha nodded, mimicking closing her lips with a zipper.
“At least for a few more weeks, and until we can figure out for sure if Noah’s the bio dad.” Sage glanced at me.
“How do you plan on figuring that out?” Tabitha asked, turning her head to look at me.
I shrugged. “I guess by a paternity DNA test when the baby’s born?”
“First she has to tell Noah she’s pregnant, and that he might be the father,” Sage interjected unhelpfully.
“Well, why don’t you tell him? I think you can do DNA tests while you’re pregnant.”
“For starters, I don’t want to freak him out before I absolutely have to,” I replied, as a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I couldn’t tell if it was morning sickness, or situational sickness. Either way, I tried to swallow the bile. “It’s still early, and like Sage, I want to get into my second trimester before I cause a massive upheaval.”
“Nell took a job as the receptionist for the resort, and she’s worried about rocking the boat too early.” Sage offered, rubbing my back as if she could feel how nauseated the whole situation made me.
“Well, who wouldn’t be worried! They just hired me and I’m bringing so much drama to the table,” I groaned, putting my head down against the cool countertop. It helped a little, but I still felt sick.
Tabitha murmured with understanding. “I can understand waiting a few more weeks. But don’t be afraid to tell him. I know my cousin would want to be a part of this, and I can promise you; you won’t lose your job over it. My aunt would never allow them to fire an expectant mother.”
I nodded meekly.
“And now that Tabitha knows our secrets, she’ll be able to help cover for us tonight!” Sage gently nudged my arm with her elbow.
“We start by removing the non-alcoholic labels from the champagne bottles.” Tabitha said, nodding with determination.
Several hours later, I was standing in Parker and Tabitha’s kitchen again. This time, I was dressed up in my favourite red wine-coloured ribbed knit mini dress, black nylons, and knee-high boots. The dress had a square neckline and long bell sleeves, and it was very form-hugging, but also stretchy.
I’d curled my hair and went for a more glam look with my makeup and included a bold lip in my favourite cream lip stain in Cherry Moon. I knew I looked good, but more importantly, I felt good for the first time in a while.
Parker and Tabitha’s extensive list of guests started to arrive around nine o’clock. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces, but Tabitha and Sage took the time to introduce me to each one of them.
Tabitha’s friends arrived first: Annalise Hastings, Ophelia Loucks, and Isla Bennett. I’d met them briefly at the Witches’ Ball, but that night was a bit of a blur for a lot of us, so Tabitha happily reintroduced everyone.
Ophelia arrived with all the fixings for sangrias. At the Witches’ Ball, she’d dressed as a shield maiden, which had really suited her long, curly red hair, porcelain complexion, freckles, and hazel eyes. She made herself at home and started making sangrias, talking about her job as a destination wedding consultant.
Annalise had walked in with her. I remembered her from her name. She worked at her family’s bed and breakfast, the Hastings Inn—which had hosted the infamous Witches’ Ball that had changed the trajectory of my life.
Isla was a freelance graphic designer who worked from home. She brought her husband and their two kids, ages four and two. Her kids immediately joined the others in the playroom, where the kids were having their own little shindig.
