“Open, Troublemaker,” Abbott says, coming toward me with the pill in between his fingers.
“Always,” I say, parting my lips so that he can pop it between them.
One of us typically brings water, and Shiloh hands me the bottle so I can take a sip to wash it down.
“Alright then, I guess now we’re ready,” I say, making a face.
Yuck. I hate taking pills.
“Ugh, quick. Someone distract me,” I complain, as we begin to walk.
“Birthday plans,” Abbott says, as if that just popped into his mind. “I need to make some reservations.”
“Whose birthday?” Winter asks.
“Yours,” I say gently.
Winter blinks as she tries to orient herself on the calendar before shaking her head.
“Wow, that went fast,” she mutters.
“It’s in four days,” Bellamy says, looking equally surprised.
“What are things you want to do for your birthday? The tattoo is on the back burner for a little longer,” Shiloh says.
“The museum is on the table still for your birthday,” Abbott adds.
“Ugh, I actually met Avery at the museum,” Winter sighs, shuddering as we walk. “She was in the bathroom washing her hands.”
“What the fuck is up with that creepy girl and goddamned bathrooms?” I ask, shaking my head. “Did she ruin the art museum for you?”
“Surprisingly, no,” Winter says. “I’d still like to go back and explore.”
“Me too,” Bellamy says. “I kind of want to try paintball art. We can cover the floors with newspaper and shoot the canvas in front of us with paintballs! Is that too violent?”
“Ahh, not for us,” Shi snorts. Bellamy grins as he remembers we’re going to kill people today, and it’s just adorable. “It’s a great alternative to shooting each other with paintballs.”
“I’m not in any shape to get hit with those things,” I admit. “It’s a lot of fun though. I’m in. So we have our morning and afternoon planned. Food in between?”
“I really want breakfast for dinner,” Winter admits. “It was one of my favorite things to do before my parents died. It was so simple, but Aunt Matilda had this serious issue with food being outside of its specific time.”
“I think she knew it was our thing, and made it a big deal because she didn’t want us to have it anymore,” Bellamy says gently.
“Breakfast for dinner it is,” Ansel says immediately. “There’s a really good diner we could go to for breakfast, but will the smell of food in such a close proximity trigger your nausea?”
“Probably,” Winter groans. “I love this baby, but could they maybe give me a break, please?”
Abbott’s arms wrap around Winter while he walks behind her, and he’s tall enough that he can look down at her body while he holds her belly. My lips twitch in amusement, wondering what he has up his sleeve.
“Be nice to your mama, Little One. She’s got all of this work to do, and you’re not making it easy,” he growls, kissing Winter’s cheek. “Probably won’t work, huh?”
Giggling, she shrugs. “It’s worth a try,” she admits.
“Hmm. Okay, I’ll make crepes for breakfast,” Ansel decides. “I can make sure to air the kitchen out really well. It doesn’t look like it, but we have a cute little backyard we can eat in. The high shrubs give us lots of privacy.”
“That sounds nice,” Winter agrees.
“It’s been awhile since we’ve done a projector outside, but it could be fun. We could watch Shakespearean movies outside. It shouldn’t be loud enough for anyone to complain, either, because there’s just a carriage passageway there,” Shiloh adds.
