Sam grabbed her husband and pulled him down onto the bed.
‘Do we have time?’ she said, biting his earlobe.
Another roar came from the kitchen.
‘Tonight?’ said Ted hopefully.
‘It’s a date.’
They drove to Ballyglen in a leisurely way. They’d booked a tiny separate house on the estate because it might be noisy at the birthday party. Joanne and Patrick had been invited but Pixie had a bug.
‘You go and have fun with your new friends. How often do you get to have a birthday party with two friends whose birthdays are on the same day,’ said Joanne. ‘I’ll stay here and mop up sick.’
‘You poor love,’ said Sam. ‘I hate you missing it. Ginger’s brothers and their wives are going, and her dad, plus Callie’s daughter, her aunt and mother.’
‘I can meet them again. Go and have birthday fun and when we are non-toxic here, we can meet them.’
In her baby seat, India cooed at her mother.
Sam grabbed her phone and took another photo.
Ted, eyes on the road, laughed. ‘I think we’ll need more iCloud storage,’ he said.
Sam grinned at him. ‘Definitely,’ she said. ‘I think we should try for another baby. We are so blessed to have India, but wouldn’t it be amazing if she had a sister? Look how Joanne and I are so close. I mean, now I’ve done it once—’
‘Try more?’ said Ted. ‘I am so definitely up for that.’
Ginger
Ginger was looking at her belongings stacked in the tiny hallway of her apartment and wondering if she’d overpacked, as usual. The guinea pigs were thrilled to be going on an adventure and were squeakily squabbling over who got to use their wheel.
‘You’d swear you pair never got to go anywhere,’ Ginger laughed, peering in at them affectionately. ‘If we get to go on our next big adventure after this birthday party, I’m buying you a second wheel and a bigger luxury duplex.’
And keeping it high up, she added mentally.
The next big adventure was that she and Will had decided to move in together to a fixer-upper house they’d discovered half an hour from the gym. Because Ginger would work from home a lot more, and because Will’s hours were flexible, they’d decided to get two dogs.
‘Rescue ones,’ said Will decisively.
‘Yes,’ said Ginger fervently, thinking of the stories she’d written about sad-eyed abandoned animals in shelters, staring up at her and waiting for a forever home that didn’t always come.
Dogs would love the guinea pigs: in a sandwich, out of a sandwich, whatever. She could not put her two beloved guinea pigs through that. So careful plans to keep the guineas safe would have to be made. Her dad would be delighted to help. He could build some yoke of a bookcase that was dog-proof and high enough for the dogs not to notice. Well, she hoped so.
Her dad loved Will, almost as much as Declan and Mick did, who – after an initial period of assessment while they grimly decided if he was good enough for their little sister – had adopted him as practically another brother.
Her phone pinged with a text:
Sorry, Ginger, just leaving. Got delayed. Love you.
Her heart did that little skip that Zoe, her sister-in-law, said was not atrial defibrillation but a woman in love.
Will always said he loved her in texts. He’d practically moved in already, and might be the worst in the world at cleaning up the bathroom and used the washing machine on 60 degrees every time, so he shrunk sweaters, but he knew Ginger needed reassurance. He understood her. That was worth more than ruined sweaters any day.
When the doorbell rang a moment later, Ginger was still in that loved-up place, and, without thinking that Will had his own key, would hardly be using the doorbell and must have travelled via Star Trek technology to get there at this speed, she opened it, beaming.
Except the visitor was not her tall, handsome beloved man. It was Liza.
A Liza who was still thin, no longer tanned, possibly Botoxed, Ginger thought in some alarm, and sobbing her eyes out.
