My life, in less than a week, had gone to hell in a handbasket. But I had to admit that, when he put it that way, it didn’t sound half-bad.
Parker Thaysden can dance. I don’t know why I was so surprised by that. Sure, I figured he’d learned to waltz at cotillion. But I didn’t know he had, like, moves.
When we got back to Philip and Sheree’s place and were about to call it a night, I was only half-surprised to find twenty-plus cars in the driveway and all the furniture in the front two rooms moved out.
“It’s the Amelia Saxton Freedom Festival!” Philip shouted.
I laughed at theOld Schoolreference, and, before I could worry about a party of this magnitude on a work night, realized I didn’t have a single place to be. “Philip, will you two ever grow up?”
He nodded emphatically. “Most certainly not, if we can help it.”
I kissed him on the cheek. “You are amazing. Thank you for letting me crash.”
I felt Sheree’s arm appear from behind me. Her curly hair was long and free down below her shoulders, and her pale skin was flushed from dancing. “Friends don’t let friends stay at cheap motels while they are having major life crises.”
I smiled, and she whispered, “I think Parker likes you.”
“Sheree, you’re a little tipsy.”
“Even still…” She trailed off as Parker came up, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out into the empty living room-turned-dance floor.
“I love this song!” he shouted to me.
I smiled at his enthusiasm as he spun me around and Fergie shouted through the speakers, “Tonight’s gonna be a good night. Tonight’s gonna be a good, good night!” I could never have imagined when I woke up this morning that I would have agreed with her.
“Thank you for tonight,” I said in his ear as he pulled me to him. “I feel much better.”
“Was it the champagne, the sushi, or the fact that Hannah thinks you can weasel cash out of Kitty if you sign an NDA?”
I laughed. “Thirty-three percent, thirty-three percent, thirty-three percent.”
Parker laughed, too, with a laugh I hadn’t seen since wewere kids, throwing his head back, dimples showing. He was just too adorable for words. I was glad to see him a little bit happy after so much sadness.
A couple hours later, I walked him to his car. “Thank you again for everything, Parker. There aren’t a lot of men who would give a woman who woke them up and chewed them out such an amazing day. I couldn’t have faced all the hard stuff without you.”
“Cape Carolina peeps have to stick together,” he said, raising his hand for me to give him five. When I did, he clasped his hand around mine, and our eyes locked. For the tiniest of instants, I considered what might happen if I kept holding his hand, if I took one step toward him, if I leaned in just a little. Which would have been absurd, since I hadn’t even begun to mourn my separation and Parker was considering becoming a single dad. But the moment passed as quickly as it came, clearly nothing more than my imagination—and the wine.
“Plus,” he said, breaking the tension, “I really needed a day off from work.”
“And you did so much relaxing,” I joked as he opened his car door. “But, seriously, I don’t know how to say thank you.”
He slid in the car and said, “You don’t ever need to thank me, Liabelle. I’m always here for you.” He smiled. “Sleep tight.”
As I walked back inside the house, where dancing continued in the living room, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Even better, I felt calm again. I was going to be okay: I had severance, I had a résumé, I had references. I locked the doorto my temporary room, pulled on my favorite cotton pajamas, and slid between the covers. The featherbed over the mattress felt like a cloud in heaven, and the slightest scent of lavender on the crisp sheets should have put me right to sleep. But I found myself thinking about the file of surrogates on my nightstand. And the emergency Reese’s cups I’d hidden in the top drawer. I had filed for divorce today. I deserved some candy.
I put the first two candidates in the “no” pile and thought,These are the women Parker finds suitable to carry his dead wife’s baby?Greer’s journal entry peeked out from the back of the file. Digging into my emergency Reese’s cups, I couldn’t help myself. As I read about her embryos, her beautiful babies, I felt the tears streaming down my face.
Reading her words, I realized that, like it or not, I had become a part of their story long before. It was midnight, and the music was starting to die down, but I knew I would never be able to sleep now.
So I went to the kitchen, grabbed a gallon of milk, all the Girl Scout cookies, and my two new roommates, and said, “We have to talk about something. And it’s really, really big.”
“Oh my God! Youdidsleep with Parker,” Sheree quipped, nearly sober now.
I smirked. “I did not sleep with Parker.” I paused. “But I think I should have his baby.”
Sheree swallowed her Peanut Butter Patty, put her hands over mine, and said, “Um, sweetheart. Unless something has changed drastically, you are sort of egg-release-challenged.”
I took a deep breath. “You guys, Parker and Greer froze embryos before she died. And I accidentally found out they had been deemed abandoned. I set this whole crazy thing into motion by telling him, and now he wants to have his babies.”
