“Hut!” he yells. “Up!”
I reach for him automatically, his hands sticky with something I don’t want to identify. He grabs my face in both palms and presses a kiss to my cheek before turning and spotting Gremlin. “Cat!”
“Uh-oh,” Charlie says, already lunging for him as he wriggles down off me and toddles forward. “Theo, gentle—no, sweetie, you can’t poke her eyes—”
Too late. Gremlin suffers his affections for exactly three seconds, then bolts out of reach with a furious hiss, and Theo claps with a chuckle, clearly a personal highlight of his morning.
“Meadow,” Charlie calls, “donotfollow the cat out to the garden!”
“But I made her a present—we have matching tutus!” Meadow marches out the door anyway, ignoring her mom. I spot Gremlin already high in a tree, away from whatever royal role-play Meadow has planned.
Jake meets my eyes. “Girls, they… they do what they want.”
“What?”
“I used to think raising sons would be harder,” he admits quietly, glancing over at Noah, who’s already set himself up on my couch with a Gameboy. “I was wrong.”
Charlie grins at Jake, her hand running over his shoulder. “You’re doing great, sweetie.”
He sighs. “That’s what people say right before their daughters overthrow the household.” Then he shrugs, a smile tugging at his mouth as he watches Meadow. “Figure that’s how it should be, though. Prepare them to overthrow the world next.”
“Amen.” Zoe raises her mimosa glass.
I watch Meadow twirl in the grass outside, already deep in her own world, and something tight pulls in my chest.
I wonder if we’ll have a boy or a girl?
Eli and Tamara trail in next, holding actual coffee like civilized people. Tamara raises a brow as Logan and Lulu slip through the door behind them, already mid-whisper and laughing about something that probably shouldn’t be said in front of children.
Eli clocks it immediately, his eye twitching.
“They’re going to get married and do that forever,” Tamara says lightly, taking a sip of her drink. “You’re just going to have to cope.”
“I am coping,” Eli mutters, glaring at Logan’s hand on his sister’s lower back. “This is me coping.”
Ten minutes later, Zoe and Chase have come to a standstill in my living room, because she can’t decide whether her outfit is “fuckable brunch” or “funeral brunch.”
Chase’s hands are on Zoe’s hips, thumbs hooked like he’s physically incapable of letting her drift more than six inches away. He looks her up and down with open reverence, then sighs dramatically.
“Babe,” he murmurs against her ear. “I’d worship you in a garbage bag.”
“You aredisgusting,” she mutters.
“I amobsessed.”
She rolls her eyes, but her hand slides into his shirt anyway, fingers curling between the buttons. Chase dips to kiss her temple, softer than what you’d expect. Their teasing is just foreplay to their love; we all know that.
Everyone starts sprawling across the living areas and kitchen, helping themselves to food. Pancakes and bacon are flying as they’re plated up. Someone has taken over my espresso machine. I’ve hidden the good honey.
And Carina’s not here yet.
Lulu nudges me as she passes. “You okay? You look like you’ve got gas.”
“Thanks.”
“Gas andanxiety,” she adds, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Your vibes are all weird today.”
Logan nods in agreement, his mouth half full of food. “His vibe is always weird.”
