“When’s the food going on the grill?” Sierra asks, so much a mini-me of her sister that I have to look twice to convince myself I’m not staring at Lily.
“You can start it if you like,” Zach says. “Zelda’s laid all the food out, ready. You just need a pair of tongs and an apron and you’re good to go.”
She claps and launches herself at the barbeque. “The cook also gets a beer, doesn’t she?”
“The cook gets a weak shandy if she’s lucky,” Lily tells her, rolling her eyes as she goes to monitor her sister’s efforts. “And no putting chilli onto the sausages again. You nearly killed me last time.”
“Baby mouth.”
“Someone’s talking herself out of that drink.”
“Fine.” Sierra’s bumps her sister’s hip with hers. “But maybe on Trent’s?”
“Maybe not,” I say with a chuckle, glancing over. “The only thing I’m having from the grill is corn.”
“Rugby season’s over,” Rosa chides me. “Live a little.”
“Having corn from the grill is me living,” I tell her. “That and the protein ice cream I have waiting in the freezer at home.”
“Wow, Trent,” Finley jibes. “Way to make us all jealous.”
Then Em and Caylon arrive with the baby and all our conversations stop in favour of making collective oohs and aahs over the little sweetheart.
“Can I hold her?” Rosa asks, then radiates nerves as Em carefully transfers the bundle to her. “Isn’t she precious?”
She rocks her, jiggling a bit when the girl makes a late objection to the change. The baby soon settles and she shoots me a glance full of wonder as she lifts her tiny hand and plants a kiss on it.
A muscle in my chest tightens as I stare at them, a swathe of emotions catching me as they storm by, spinning and twisting me in their wake.
“Not until she gets her degree,” Finley says through narrowed eyes, pointing a carrot stick at me. “I’m not ready to be a godmother. Not just yet.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I tell her, knowing that’s a total lie and the image I just captured is probably going to play out in my memory every night for the foreseeable. “But let me know when you are ready, and I’ll put some effort in.”
The baby moves from Rosa to Lily, Em growing so nervous that Caylon puts his arms around to stabilise her, planting a firm row of kisses along her neck.
She goes back to her mum while Sierra serves up sausages and chops that are crispy black on the outside and pink and raw in the middle. Zach’s dad finally wrestles control of the grill from her while she sulks, complaining that she’d just got the coals the way she wanted them as he turns out portion after portion of perfectly cooked food.
I think of how much things have changed since Rosa came into my life. The beast still lurks inside me, twisting its lithe body as it paces back and forth in its cage. I’ve grown used to its presence, understand now how to let it loose when I need to, how to keep it restrained before it goes too far.
Every step of that journey has been taken with Rosa beside me. And under me. On top of me. Many more positions that it’s not good to name in decent company.
No matter how bad I think I am, she’s never shocked, never taken aback. She listens, thinks about things, then comes up with solutions.
Not just in the bedroom but with everything. The most steadfast companion I could imagine having in my life. A joy to work alongside, a greater pleasure to hold.
Speaking of which… I reach out and tug her chair closer, close enough that I can lean over and take her into my arms, lifting her onto my lap where I can play with her hair and luxuriate in her warmth, and maybe, if she has a rug handy, indulge in a languorous bit of foreplay.
“Not in front of the children,” she immediately scolds when my hand goes wandering, pressing her face against my chest to stifle a laugh.
A lazy afternoon with friends has never felt so perfect, and like all perfect things, it comes too quickly to an end.
As I drive Rosa and Finley home, I feel warm contentment that the group I thought was breaking apart into disparate pieces are now back together, with newer and better members, forming an extra layer of social glue to tie us closer. A perfect balance to everything.
At home, Finley immediately heads off to track down Sashe and fill her in on the afternoon’s entertainment. Meanwhile, I trap Rosa against the kitchen counter, remembering Augie and his long-ago coupling on the same stretch of bench.
“No sex in the kitchen,” my dad announces to my embarrassment, walking in on us doing nothing. Not athing.“Unless it’s me and my wife.”
“And Finley,” Rosa murmurs, earning a sharp glance followed by a contented smile.
