Slipping out of the cart, I wait for Sebastian, let him take my hand, and follow him toward Elizabeth.
“Good morning, Elizabeth, you look lovely,” Sebastian says, turning on his polished charm.
“Sebastian, Starling,” she greets us coolly, despite the inbuilt warmth in her southern accent. “I didn’t think guests were arriving until after lunch.”
Sammy’s mom isn’t openly hostile to us, but despite the massive house, the bottomless bank account, the wedding ring, and the baby, Evan and this lifestyle wouldn’t have been her first choice for her daughter. She had aspirations of Sammy marrying her close friend’s son and becoming the next First Lady.
Sammy’s parents have money, but it’s nothing in comparison to the level of wealth her new son-in-law comes from, and I think this baby shower is Elizabeth’s way of showing the world, and all of us, that she’s a hostess capable of conquering any social sphere.
“They’re not guests, Mom, they’re family,” Sammy says, waddling out of the house and over to us.
“Samantha, you’re in a robe, you’re not fit for public,” Elizabeth snaps.
“Again. Family,” Sammy hisses, taking my hand and dragging me away from her mom and into the house. “She didn’t leave until after midnight last night, and she was here at six a.m. this morning. I love her, but I want to kill her. I’m eight months pregnant, I feel like a whale, and I don’t care about a fucking baby shower. Evan doesn’t care about a baby shower. The only people who do care about baby showers are my mom and yours. This is ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry that our mothers are insane,” I tell her, following her through the house and up to her and Evans bedroom.
“Morning, Big Bro,” I call to Evan, who is still in bed, scrolling through something on his cell.
“Hey Little Sis. If she tries to convince you to help her run away, I’ll chain you both to the couch,” he says without looking up from his screen.
“Ignore him. I’m thinking trains, planes, or automobiles. A boat is too predictable this close to the ocean,” Sammy says.
“Wife, I will get the chains,” Evan growls as he slips out of bed and pads over to her. Wrapping an arm around her from behind, he spreads his palm over her belly. “I know you’re stressed, and you don’t want this, but just take a deep breath and relax. Let the moms do their thing and just ignore them.”
“There’s a string quartet downstairs,” Sammy hisses. “A string-fucking-quartet, and I swear I heard Cassidy say something about swans.” Turning to me, she shakes her head. “Starling, I love you, but if your mom lets swans loose in our pool, I’m going to kill her.”
“Feel free. I’ll give you an alibi,” I tell her with a shrug.
We all turn to look when the bedroom door swings open and Sebastian slips inside, holding a wiggling Lysander in his arms. The sight of my husband holding a baby makes my knees go weak, and I grab for the wall, flattening my palm against the cool plaster to keep myself upright.
“Baby Bro,” Evan gushes, pressing a hot kiss to the chain around Sammy’s neck, before he steps away, striding over to Sebastian and lifting the baby from his arms.
“Sammy, your mom is demanding you be found,” Sebastian says, leaning casually against the doorframe.
“My mom can go fuck herself,” Sammy says, rubbing absently at a spot on the side of her belly.
“Is he kicking?” Sebastian asks, his gaze fixed on my bestie’s stomach.
“Yep. I think he has a future as an MMA fighter or a soccer star.”
“Can I?” he asks, taking a step forward, his arm outstretched.
At her nod, Sebastian moves toward her, tentatively placing his hand on her stomach through her robe. Grabbing his wrist, Sammy moves his hand until a soft smile spreads across his lips.
“This is your Uncle Sebastian,” Sammy coos to her belly. “He’s insane, but he loves your Auntie Starling, so we put up with him. Never take romantic advice from him, because I will not bail you out if you end up in jail.”
Snickering, I move forward, laying my hand alongside Sebastian’s, and feeling the weird alien-like sensation rolling beneath her skin. “That’s so weird,” I tell her.
“I know,” she agrees. “I keep expecting him to burst through my stomach and start attacking people.”
“Our son is not a fucking alien,” Evan snarls, scowling at Sammy.
“Half his DNA is yours, he’s probably closer to alien than human.”
“Wife,” he growls.
“Husband,” she growls back.
