“Please do.” She lets go and guides her daughter toward the door. “It would go great with my alder-planked salmon.”
Harper moves past me, darting a quick look at Hazel. “You’re really having twin babies?”
“I am.” She touches her belly, blushing a little. “Your mom says you took a babysitting class at the Red Cross?”
“Yeah, I know infant CPR and everything.” She flashes an impish grin. “Are you guys gonna get married?”
“No!” Hazel clenches her hands, not looking at me as she answers. “We aren’t together like that. I mean—we’re not together at all.”
“That’s right,” I agree, knowing I need to have her back here. “Not together even a little.”
Harper’s gaze bounces between us. “I mean, you must’ve been together at least once, right?” She snickers as her mom grabs her arm.
“Harper!” Lucy tugs her toward the door.
“What? I’m just saying.” Harper grins at me as her mother drags her away. “Good job, Luke. Hazel’s pretty and really nice.”
“She certainly is.” Proving I might have a death wish, I reach over and pat Hazel’s butt. “She’s going to be a great mom, too.”
She swats me away with a glare as she wraps up goodbyes with her cousins. There’s a lot of hugging and shouts of “see you next Sunday.” I get several of each myself, and I don’t bother telling them I’m not part of the family. Not like they seem to assume.
As soon as they’re gone, Hazel leans back on the door with a sigh. “That didn’t go like I planned.”
“Sorry again about spilling the story.”
“Not your fault.” She shoves off the door and heads for the dining room to start clearing plates. “I told you I was going to break the news. I can see why you assumed I already had.”
“Still.” Moving behind her, I grab a big stack of plates from her hand. “I apologize for making that the most awkward pregnancy announcement ever.”
“I mean, so far I’ve broken the news to my father in prison, to my mother on the phone while standing outside Weirdoughs in the rain, and to you in a boardroom with a bunch of women you didn’t know.”
“You told your mom?”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “It didn’t go great. But at least it’s done.”
I want to hear more, but I’m sensing she doesn’t feel like sharing. “Maybe a non-traditional pregnancy calls for non-traditional announcements.”
“I suppose.” She struggles to snatch back the plates. “You really did save the day with dinner.”
“Enough to make up for botching the announcement?”
Hazel laughs. “It was so delicious I’d forgive you if you’d stood on the table and slid all my napkin rings on your penis.”
I burst out laughing, turning away to carry the plates to the kitchen. “God, Hazel. You’re one of the funniest people I’ve ever met.”
“You are literally the only person in my life who has ever said that to me.” She takes another swipe at the plates, then gives up and goes back to the table. “You’re not cleaning up, Luke. This wasn’t even your party. You just came to my rescue with dinner and banter that made everyone laugh.”
“Not intentionally.” I carry the plates to the sink, keeping one eye on Hazel behind me. “The laughter, I mean. And Hazel, if you pick up that serving platter, so help me God I’m throwing these plates at the wall.”
With a huff, she releases the platter and follows me into the kitchen. “I can’t just stand around while you clean.”
“You’re right, you can’t. You can sit your sweet ass on that barstool while I do it.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Grumbling, she trudges to the other side of the bar and obeys. “You’re bossy.”
