The doorbell rings at exactly seven, which always makes me laugh, because Reese is never on time for anything except our Friday dinner.
“I brought the fancy stuff!” she calls out, breezing in with a bottle of red wine above her head. She kisses me on the cheek and looks at Dawson. “Your garlic chicken better not disappoint tonight. I had a rough week.”
“Mygarlic chicken?” he asks. “Evie cooked tonight.”
Reese’s jaw drops. She looks at me. “Well, maybe I should get a Doordash…?”
I smack her on the arm, and she cracks up laughing.
Friday dinner at our house has become a tradition. It started after the wedding, and we’ve only missed a handful. Dawson usually cooks, Reese brings wine, and we all enjoy our company. We’re a family. Reese is family.
Dawson and I wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for her. She’s the one who brought me to that party when I didn’t want to go. She gave him my number because she knew he’d be brave enough to break down my walls. And she sat me down and gave me the hard truth I needed to hear when it would have been easier to not say anything.
I owe her a lot, and I’ve told her that. She always says I don’t owe her anything—other than first dibs on naming my future children.
As we eat, she tells us about the new guy she’s seeing. “He’s a dentist, can you believe that? Very stable, but a little boring.”
“I give it three weeks,” Dawson snorts, sipping his beer. I kick him under the table as Reese frowns.
“Okay, perfect couple,” she replies. “What’s with you two? You’re acting…weird tonight.”
“Weird?” I ask quickly. A little too quickly. “We’re not being weird.”
Reese’s eyes narrow. She looks at me, at Dawson, then down at my wine glass, which is full of sparkling water, not the wine she brought.
“Oh…my…God…” she says, jaw agape. “Evie!”
“What?”
“You’re not drinking!”
I glance at Dawson. “I’m not in the mood.”
“It’s Friday! It’s literally the one day out of the week that you—” Her eyes widen as she looks back and forth between me and my husband. I wait, tense, until I see the exact moment the pieces click into place. She drops her fork and stares. “No way!”
“Reese—”
“You’re pregnant!” she exclaims, leaping to her feet, eyes filled with tears as she wraps her arms around me. I glance at Dawson, who is smiling quietly. We’d planned to tell her sometime soon. We both should have known she’d figure it out on her own. Reese figures out everything.
“Eight weeks,” I say softly. It’s like this wonderful admission that feels even better to reveal than I’d anticipated.
“I knew it! Oh my God, Evie!” she pulls me back, her mascara running. “I’m going to be the greatest aunt ever! You’re going to have to stop me from spoiling this kid, you have no idea.”
“Oh, I think we do,” Dawson chuckles. She frowns but still leaps onto him and gives him a big hug.
“You’ll be the first person we call when it’s time,” he tells her.
“Damn right I will.” She sniffles, stands, and fans her face. Then, like she just remembered something, she spins back to me. “So now that you’reofficial—”
“We weren’t official before?” Dawson asks, pretending to be insulted. “We’re married.”
“Well, fine, but now she’s pregnant, that takes it to a whole new level.”
Dawson nods. “Fair enough.”
“Now that you’re this kind of official, I guess that means yourold boyfriendhas been completely replaced?”
Dawson doesn’t miss a beat. “Old boyfriend? You mean Charles?”
