“You’re right.”
I lean forward, kissing his cheek. “I know I am. Thank you for bringing me lunch, though. It was really sweet of you,” I say, and Bailey’s jaw unhinges.
“I think you’re forgetting the sunflowers I also brought,” he says, looking at the stunning bouquet he brought with him.
“I could never forget the sunflowers. I now keep a vase on my desk for how often you bring them,” I remind him. I’ve asked how he always knows when the old ones start to die, but B claims it’s a secret.
“Do you think your mom will care if I close up for the day?” I ask, and Bailey hums, gathering the rest of our things.
“Are there any more appointments?”
I shake my head, looking at the appointment book on my desk. There’s a few tomorrow, but they can always be rescheduled if Mirabelle’s still in labor. “Everyone came in already for the day, so I think it’s okay.” I grab my bag and put it over my shoulder. “How was therapy today?” I ask, since we didn’t really get a chance to talk before Henry called.
Bailey’s been meeting with his therapist twice a week, and it’s become part of his routine to bring lunch after. Sometimes he wants to talk, but other times he just wants to sit in silence together. I’m not sure what type of day today’s going to be.
“It was good,” he answers, keeping it vague. “We can talk about it another day, it’s okay.”
“Whatever you need,” I say, echoing the promise I made tohim a month ago, moving toward the light switch in the back. Bailey reaches for my hand when I grab my keys with the other to lock up the gallery.
“Do you think they’re going to name the babies after themselves?” I ask, trying to lighten the air. It does just the trick, catching Bailey by surprise as he snorts.
“Mirabelle’s a little obsessed with herself, but I don’t think she’d name her kid Mirabelle Junior,” he says, and I think he’s giving them entirely too much credit.
“I think there’s a chance, but do you think it’ll be two boys, two girls, or one of each?”
Bailey chuckles, opening the truck door for me. “I’ve always seen them with one of each, but I hope for Henry’s sake, they don’t have two girls. I still can’t believe he bought that many boxes of gloves instead of donating directly to the school.”
I think Mirabelle would be a fantastic boy mom after growing up with three brothers, but I think Henry would drown if they had twin girls. He’d be the biggest sucker, and they’d have him wrapped around their fingers from day one.
“Do you want kids?” I ask as he gets in the truck, and Bailey tenses. “Shit, this isn’t like a make-it-or-break-it relationship test, I swear. I’m just curious.”
I’ve totally put my foot in my mouth when I was only trying to distract him from whatever was discussed in therapy.
He hesitates, and I wish I could take it back.
“Is it bad if I say I don’t know?” he asks, peeking at me. Honestly, the answer makes me feel relieved.
“Would it make you feel better if I said I also didn’t know?”
He chuckles, flexing his hand on the steering wheel. “Actually, yeah. I mean, I don’t want to say never if the timing was right, but I’ve never seen myself as anyone’s parent. I think I’llbe an awesome uncle, but it’s not something I’m dreaming about.”
“You will be an incredible uncle,” I reassure Bailey. “I think after getting to know Javi, I’d maybe like to foster one day, but I can’t say the idea of being pregnant is appealing. With the right person, I think I would consider it, but we’re young. We have plenty of time to figure it out.”
“Whatever you decide, I know you’ll be amazing.”
No matter what, I know we can face anything because we’ll be together.
Dad and Sebastian are entertaining Javi by teaching him how to play blackjack using Goldfish as chips. Bailey is sleeping in the chair next to me, his head resting on my shoulder while his hand holds onto mine, even in his sleep. I can feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier, threatening to pull me under into a light sleep as we wait for another update from Henry.
The sound of quiet footsteps causes me to force my eyes open as I look to see my brother standing there, his face white as a ghost.
It causes my brain to jump to the worst-case scenario, and I sit up straight.
He looks like someone died, which given where we are, I really hope isn’t the case.
“Is Mira okay? Are the babies?” I ask as Bailey slowly lifts his head up at the sound of my voice.
Henry’s dark eyes are wide. “Don’t ever have kids, Kait. I’ve seen things that I can never unsee,” he says, shaking his head.
