Their voices tumble over each other, bright and loud and alive. The sound hits me right in the chest. My boys. My heart. My whole world.
“But Grandma said we take a boat off this boat first. That’s like, hundreds of boats!”
I grin. “Let’s see…” I hold up one finger. “This boat.” I add another. “Then the tender boat that’s going to take us to shore. The yacht where we’re having Aunt Luna’s party. The tender back?—”
“Another party for Aunt Luna?” Max’s face scrunches in mock disbelief. “How many parties does one person need?”
Blakey pipes up. “It’s also for Uncle Noah.”
“He’s not our uncle yet,” Max counters, crossing his arms. “You have to be married to be an uncle.”
“Not always,” Blake argues, slipping into his serious tone. “If someone’s your aunt’s boyfriend, and they’ve been together for more than six months, and they practically live together?—”
“Where did you hear that?” I interrupt, trying not to laugh.
“Auntie Luna.”
Of course.
They launch into a full debate about the exact timeline required for “uncle status” while I sip my coffee, letting the caffeine and their energy dilute all my lingering doubts.
This. These boys right here are why I need to make good decisions.
Better decisions from here on out.
After a few minutes, my mom comes out of the bathroom, hair smoothed into her blond-silver bob, makeup perfect, wrapped in a floral cover-up and leather sandals—basically the poster woman for Cruise Life Magazine for seniors.
“You look nice, Mom.”
“Why thank you, darling.” Her tone is cheerful, but her eyes do that subtle, assessing sweep. “You look well-rested today.” Then she spots my cup and frowns. “I hope that’s decaf…”
Oh, right.
I’m tempted to pretend to not know what she’s saying, because my mom isn’t supposed to know what she thinks sheknows…. Only, my mom won’t care about that, no, my mom, as my mom, will always be…
My mom.
“Of course it is,” I lie smoothly, flashing an innocent smile.
She opens her mouth, no doubt to ask intrusive questions or offer unsolicited advice, until I tilt my head toward the boys—an unsubtledon’t you dare.
Which works, for now.
“I’m so excited for today!” I say brightly, clapping my hands together, effectively changing the subject. “This boat I’ve reserved for the party—it’s supposed to be amazing.” I turn to the boys, because if anyone will match my enthusiasm, it’s them. “The yacht is huge—three decks. If we’re lucky, hopefully we’ll see some dolphins, maybe even some whales!"
“Will there be pizza?” Max asks.
“No, but I bet there will be tacos,” I say. The menu specified was an elaborate buffet of local cuisine. “I got a great deal on it, Mom. Private charter.”
“Well, then, I can’t wait either.” Her smile lingers, but her eyes narrow just a little. “So… you and Beckett… are having a nice time?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” I answer a little defensively.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “But rumor has it that he, uh… got a… tattoo.” She glances over her shoulder and then back at me. “In an intimate area.”
“MOM!”
I am absolutely not discussing my husband’sintimate areawith my mother.
