“The fertility specialist suggested it. That, and tracking my cycle while having sex at least every other day.”
My memory floods with the image of Luke in my bed. Heat fills my cheeks as I swallow. “Hopefully that’s not a hardship.”
Lucy laughs. “Peter just stared at the doctor and said, ‘You mean we have to cut back?’ I married a comedian, I swear.”
“Lucky girl.” I try not to think about Luke’s easy laughter. I think about family instead. How grateful I am to be part of this, even though I botched dinner. “Great news for Parker and Calliope, huh?”
“No kidding.” She laughs. “He’s been planning to propose for ages. I’m glad he finally did it.”
“And a new baby on top of all that.” The youngest Spencer-King sibling surprised us tonight over appetizers with a double-whammy of announcements. “I didn’t even know they planned to adopt right away.”
“I don’t think they did,” Lucy muses. “Calista’s teenage cousin turning up pregnant wasn’t on anyone’s bingo card, but the timing seems perfect. They’ll have a baby and a wedding all in one year.”
“Lucky them.” My fingertips toy with the cord of my Crock-Pot. Could I still plug it in?
The shimmer of sadness in Lucy’s blue eyes pulls my focus back to my cousin. “Hey,” I say softly. “Are you okay?”
“Definitely.” She sounds like she means it. “Surprised, but happy.”
“You’re sure?” Touching her arm, I gentle my voice. “It can’t be easy having your little brother get a baby so quickly when it’s not coming easily for you.”
“That’s the thing,” she says, dabbing her eyes. “I really do feel overjoyed. A tiny bit wistful, but mostly thrilled. Babies just make everything brighter, you know?”
“Yes.” My palm starts to lift to my middle. As Lucy’s gaze drops, so does my hand. “Hard to stay sad around babies.”
“So true,” she agrees with a warm, open smile. “And how cool is it knowing we’ll have a new baby in the family? It gives me hope that when Peter and I finally conceive, our kid will have cousins to play with.”
“That does sound amazing.” I think of my own childhood filled with Spencer-King cousins. Those are some of my happiest memories.
“I hope they’re all close, like we were.” Lucy’s smile broadens. “I’m hoping everyone starts pumping out babies. Cassidy and Brooke, and Erika, and Zoe?—”
“Here’s hoping.”
Parker said something like that, though his was more of an order. “Make us some goddamn cousins, assholes” were his exact words.
His fiancée chimed in with a smile. “We’d love for our child to have family close in age.”
Forcing a stiff smile for Lucy, I pray she can’t see my sweat-slicked palms. “Shouldn’t be too much longer on dinner. How’s everyone liking the appetizers?”
“They’re delicious! Oh, good—you’ve got more.” She scoops up the plate of beautiful mini tarts. “Mind if I take these back out to the masses?”
“Please do.”
“You’ll have to give me the recipe for these. The bacon and ricotta ones are phenomenal.”
“Sure, of course.” I can’t lie to my cousin. “Actually, I ordered them from Weirdoughs. I’m not much of a baker.”
“Please.” Laughing, she picks up a mushroom and goat cheese tartlet. “You think Jake makes everything on the table when we have it at his place? And God knows I fucked up the cheesecake. The one I brought? That’s from Weirdoughs, too.”
“Oh.” That makes me feel marginally better. “I won’t tell.”
“It’s fine. I’m not embarrassed. This is why we do everything potluck. Everyone chips in whatever they can. That way if something doesn’t turn out right, we’ve got each other to fill in the gaps.”
“Of course.” I hold my stiff smile until Lucy retreats to the dining room. Then I turn back to face my disaster.
Apparently, Crock-Pots work best when plugged in.
In my haste to prepare slow cooker beef bourguignon, I somehow missed the most crucial step. The recipe sounded so simple. My mother used to make something similar, though hers was no doubt done the regular way. Is there any hope of saving this meal?
