I lean closer to Remington. “I caught him scrolling through engagement rings online last week.”
My oldest brother lifts his eyebrows but nods. “Nice. As long as he wasn’t looking at Carlisle Jewelers.”
I wrinkle my nose because the Carlisles and the Hales donotget along. There’s been beef between our families for over a hundred years.
“Absolutely not. Now come on. Let’s go let Jordie boss us around some more.”
My brother trudges after me. “You should give her a whip in the bedroom. I bet she’d make a damn good dominatrix.”
We enter the living room to find workmen inflating the bouncy house. A squeal comes from the staircase, and we see Reece running down the steps in black leggings and a long purple frilly top, my mother hot on her heels.
“Reece honey, slow down!” Mom calls, shaking her head at her granddaughter’s exuberance.
My kid ignores the warning, of course, and jumps from the third step, giving me about five heart attacks in the process. Thankfully, she lands safely on her feet and dashes to Jordie, who picks her up.
“Well, don’t you look cute, sweetpea?” The two hug, making my heart race faster, this time with love instead of worry that my daughter would end up with a broken leg on her birthday.
Mom approaches and gives Jordie a kiss on the cheek before tugging at one of Reece’s purple canvas tennis shoes, which are adorned with tiny rhinestones on the seams.
“Wherever did you find these darling shoes, Jordie?”
“At that little shoe store in Rice Village. Reece picked them out all by herself, didn’t you?”
She boops my little girl’s nose, and Remi elbows me, muttering, “Yeah, definitely not Bitchy Bettencunt.”
Reece’s eyes go to the inflatable, and her gaze widens as it rises almost to the top of my vaulted ceiling. “Is that a dragon?”
“Of course it is,” Jordie scoffs. “This is a dragon-themed party. Did you think I’d make you jump around in a clown’s head?”
That sends my little girl into a fit of giggles, which makes my jaw ache from the smile spreading across my face.
A few minutes later, I find my mother in the kitchen, placing the cake she bought on a platter.
“This is so cute,” I say, turning the plate to see all the adorable dragons around the perimeter.
“Isn’t it? I got it at Whisk & Whimsy. Clarissa made it herself.”
“Clarissa.” I roll the name through my mental Rolodex. “That’s one of the ladies from the women’s shelter?”
Mom beams. “That’s her. I just love that the center helped her go to culinary school and then provided her with the resources to open her own bakery.” She smiles proudly. “She’s really thriving now.”
I loop an arm around my mother’s neck and plant a wet kiss on her cheek. I love the crap out of this woman.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Oh, I do what I can,” she says humbly.
“Mom, you literally started that entire shelter to help women in abusive relationships.”
“I had a lot of help,” she argues, and then her smile falters. “I wanted to do something to honor my sister. She was always so smart except when it came to choosing men.”
I pull her into my arms and wrap her in a hug. “You still miss Aunt Bev, don’t you?”
She nods and sniffles once before pulling away and lifting her chin. “Enough about all that. This is a happy occasion. Our little girl is half a decade old today.”
“That doesn’t make me feel old at all,” I say wryly.
Mom arranges some cookies on another plate. They’re individually wrapped dragon-shaped treats with intricate royal icing.
