Chapter 41
Cody
Things have been decent the last three weeks. Not magically better, but steady. Karissa hasn’t touched another drink, so that’s something. I still catch her zoning out sometimes, trying to smile, even if it doesn’t meet her eyes. I’m doing my best to keep us held together. Even when she’s pushing away.
It’s Thursday night, and everyone’s crammed around my parents’ dining room table, except Megan. Something about setting up her classroom for St. Patrick’s Day.
The babies are making their own racket in high chairs while Mom’s making sure everyone has everything they need, and Dad’s already getting seconds.
Karissa sits beside me, Emma next to her with food already smeared on her face. Across the table, Cora doesn’t look much better. She’s got silverware in both fists, banging them on her tray like she’s in a marching band, applesauce splattering the wall behind her.
Watching Jesse try to control the situation is enough to have us all laughing.
“Babe, help me out here?” He groans, looking to Ella like she’s his only hope.
Ella’s laughing, shoulders shaking, as she hands him a new napkin. “You’re the one who gave her the spoon.”
“You didn’t say she’d use it like a catapult,” he mutters.
The table erupts louder in laughter. Addison spits her drink back into her cup, choking out a laugh. Dad’s laughing with his mouth full, trying not to choke himself. Mom covers her mouth with a napkin.
“She’ll be the one starting food fights in the cafeteria,” Wesley suggests.
“She’s already got the arm for it,” Mason adds as another splat of applesauce hits the floor.
Before we clear the table, Ella comes in with a container of gender reveal cupcakes. “So…along with the gender, we also have a name.”
Addison practically bounces in her seat. “Oh my gosh!”
“Does Jesse know the gender this time?” I joke. With Cora, he didn’t have a clue Ella already knew. That got awkward fast.
“I do, because I helped make the cupcakes,” he says, puffing his chest.
“You iced cupcakes?” Addison asks, her eyebrows halfway up her forehead.
Jesse smirks. “No, I—”
“He mixed the batter and lined the trays,” Ella cuts in, sliding the container into the center of the table.
“Um…andput them in the ovenandchecked them with a toothpick,” Jesse fires back, like that seals his credibility.
Ella pats his back, grinning. “You’re right, honey. You’re practically a pastry chef now.”
He leans back, a smug grin across his face.
Mason smirks. “Next thing we know, Jesse’ll be on one of those Food Network shows.”
“Yeah,” I add. “Worst Cooks in America.”
The whole table busts out laughing, the sound of it bouncing off the walls. Even Jesse cracks, shaking his head with a grin.
Everyone grabs a cupcake, places their bets, and on the count of three, takes a bite.
Pink icing oozes from the middle of mine. Addison squeals so loud she nearly falls out of her chair. Mom claps and rushes to hug Ella, while Dad points his fork at Jesse.
“Better start cleaning those guns now, buddy.”
Jesse groans, even as his grin stretches ear to ear. “Oh, I know.”
