The table was already a riot of color—wooden eggs, pastel ribbons, and little dishes of petals Zoe had prepared. The women had settled in, glasses perched on noses and hands busy with glue and twine. It didn’t take long, though, before the conversation drifted away from crafts.
“So,” Edith said, pointing her glue gun at Zoe, “how are things with our future King and Queen of Maple Falls?”
Heat rose to Zoe’s cheeks. “Edith?—”
“What? Don’t play coy. You two are running for Couple of the Year, aren’t you? Gotta make sure I have my money on a solid bet. Whole town’s buzzing about it.”
Madison grinned, not looking up from the tiny bow she was tying. “Oh, they’re buzzing alright. You should see the looks Zoe’s been getting.”
“Spill it,” Kit said, reaching for another handful of chocolate eggs from the refreshment table. “Are you and Jackson the real deal, or just playing house for the crowns?”
“Not that we’d blame you. Your mother can be a bit overly enthusiastic,” Edith added with a wink.
Zoe’s smile wavered. She tried to focus on pressing petals onto her egg, but the silence stretched. When she finally looked up, all eyes were on her—expectant, kind, but unrelenting.
“Oh, we’re the real deal alright,” she said. That hadn’t always been the case, of course, but they were now. And that posed another set of problems.
“Alright then, what’s the problem?” Mrs. C. asked, cutting right to the chase. “No sense in denying it. I can see it written all over your face.”
Her throat tightened. “I’m scared,” she admitted softly. “Scared I’m just…repeating mistakes.”
Madison’s teasing smile faded. “Oh Zoe…”
“Like with Ben,” Zoe added, her voice almost a whisper.
Mrs. Bishop froze mid-glue. “Wait—who’s Ben?”
Mrs. C. let out a sharp little sigh. “Haven’t you been paying attention? You work with Zoe!”
“Well, excuse me for not keeping up with her personal life.” Mrs. Bishop sniffed, her tone a little too prim.
“It’s alright,” Zoe said quickly, not wanting to make it bigger than it was. “I don’t talk about him much. He’s my ex. We were together for years. We broke up after he decided he didn’t want to have children.”
“See, I didn’t know that,” Kit murmured, glancing toward Mrs. Bishop.
But Zoe only half heard them. Her fingers twisted a ribbon again and again. “With Ben, I thought if I just kept waiting and hoping, he might change his mind. But he never did. And I can’t do that again. I won’t. Not with Jackson.”
“Does Jackson not want kids?” Madison asked softly.
“I don’t know. I haven’t asked him yet. Seems way too soon, and yet…” Zoe let her voice trail off. The truth pressed in on her chest. She wasn’t getting any younger, and she didn’t have as much time as other people did. If she was going to pursue IVF, she couldn’t afford to waste years pretending. Not when she knew how many failed attempts might lie ahead and how much it might cost.
Edith leaned forward, eyes sharp but kind. “What are you waiting for? Just ask him. That way you’ll know if you’re wasting your time.”
“And maybe Edith can get her bet back,” Mrs. Bishop added with a laugh.
“She won’t,” Mrs. C. said flatly, snipping a ribbon as if to cut off the very notion. “All bets are final.”
Zoe forced a small smile, but inside her stomach tightened. Oh, they were final, alright. Her mom’s wager on her love life was fresh in her mind. Still, she should talk to Jackson about children—about what he wanted, about what she needed. Not that she expected him to knock her up overnight. She just needed to know if his vision of the future had space for a family.
But she wasn’t ready to open that door. Not yet. Not after everything had only just begun. They’d finally committed to each other, finally stopped pretending. It was all so new, even though in some ways it felt like their love was older than time itself.
Zoe let out a shaky laugh, though her chest still felt tight. “Easter’s a couple of days away. I want to spend it with him. With his family, our families together.” She shrugged, shoulders rising helplessly. “Maybe I’m a coward. I just don’t want to ruin it by rushing the hard conversations too soon.”
The table went quiet, the only sound the snip of Mrs. C.’s scissors and the rustle of ribbon. Then Edith leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Or maybe,” she said with a wicked grin, “the sex is just that good you don’t want to mess it up.”
The room erupted—Madison choking on a laugh, Kit covering her mouth, Mrs. Bishop gasping in mock horror. Even Mrs. C. cracked a smile, shaking her head as if Edith was incorrigible.
Zoe dropped her face into her hands, her cheeks flaming. “Edith!”
