“Happy baby shower!” they all cheer.
Naturally, I burst into tears.
Margot and Willow are the first to hug me. Jimmy’s wife, Brenda, is here, along with several women from the distillery. Diana, Lilah, and Jackie fuss over me. I’m so caught up in myemotions, I don’t notice the new arrivals until a strong arm loops around my waist.
Smoke and spice envelop me.
“Sorry we’re late, sweetheart.” A kiss is pressed to my crown, and I stare up, startled by Warren’s arrival.
“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” I place my hand on his chest. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you.”
He chuckles. “I’m not staying long. Just dropping off a few stragglers.”
Warren steps aside, revealing the newcomers. It was futile applying makeup this morning. I must resemble a hormonally challenged panda as more tears soak my face.
With a wriggling toddler on her hip, my sister smiles at me. “Surprise!”
I twist to Warren before flicking my attention back to Johanna. “You cannot do this to a pregnant woman. It’s abuse,” I blubber.
“Come here, you damn mess.”
I’m still getting used to my protruding belly and almost topple Jo over like a bowling pin. Madeline, my niece, tangles her sticky little fingers in my hair as I take her from her mom while Lottie, Jo’s step-daughter, bounces on her toes in excitement.
“Look at the two of you!” I gush. “You’re both getting so big.”
“Have you got any weird cravings, Auntie Harriet? Can I feel the baby kick? Did you know we flew on aplane?” Lottie spews her questions in quick succession, making my heart squeeze. I try to FaceTime my nieces as much as possible, not wanting them to forget who I am, but nothing beats the real thing.
I peer over the top of Madeline’s head to find Warren tryinghis hardest not to look overwhelmed as Lottie talks his head off about how tall he is and if he knows her daddy and uncles.
Thank you, I mouth.
He shrugs it off.
If I wasn’t halfway to falling in love with him, this would be the cherry on top.
Madeline fusses in my arms, babbling nonsense until she fixes Warren with a curious stare, studying him untactfully, as one-year-olds do.
“Ugg.” She stretches her chubby little arms toward him. “Ugg. Ugg.”
“Can someone translate?” he asks.
“Hug,” Jo tells him. “But you really don’t have to. She’s due for a nap and is drooling like crazy.”
“Ugg. Ugg!” Madeline nosedives out of my hold. Warren is there in a flash, catching the squirming child and tucking her against his chest with a petrified expression.
“Fu—” He cuts himself off. “She moves fast.”
Johanna stifles her giggle when Madeline pokes at Warren’s mustache while a line of dribble soaks his shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind and allows her to explore his face, even laughing when she gouges him in the eye.
I go to relieve him when she releases a big yawn and rests her head on his shoulder.
There’s no awkwardness or apprehension. He rubs slow circles on her back and looks at Johanna. “Enjoy time with your sister. I’m happy to watch her.”
Did I say halfway?
FORTY-NINE
WARREN
