“Granny!” I say gleefully. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
“As if I’d miss it,” she says, pinching my cheeks after handing the gift to Ellie to be placed on the table. “Thank you for inviting me, sweetie.”
“Of course, I’m so glad you’re here,” I say, suddenly feeling very emotional. “You and Jack have been so good to me these last few months, it wouldn’t feel right without you.”
“I’ll have you know,” she mutters just loud enough for me to hear. “That my darling grandson is in my house pitching an absolute fit about not being invited to this shindig.”
“I told him it was just for the girls,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You tell him he’s invited to the afterparty–just don’t tell him that the ‘afterparty’ is the girls sitting on the couch while the boys clean everything up. But why isn't he at his apartment, why is he bothering you?"
"That's a very good question," she chuckles. "Every time I talk to him, he's either working or with you."
I pause, my forehead creasing in concentration as I try to remember the last time he stayed at his own place. When I can't pinpoint it, I try to remember the last time he even stopped by there to grab his things. Something uneasy stirs in my stomach when I can't remember that either.
At some point in time, enough of Jack Robb's belongings made it over to my house that he didn't need to go back again.
He's basically been living here for months. Why is that a surprise to you?
“Anyway, the 'afterparty' sounds like an excellent plan,” she says, clapping her hands. “Just what I like to hear. Now if you’ll excuse me a moment, I spy about a dozen sweet treats I’d like to get my hands on.”
“Please do,” I say with a laugh, shaking off the uncomfortable feelings and swooping my arm dramatically, gesturing towardthe snack table. “Make sure I don’t have any leftovers or I’ll eat them all by myself within twenty minutes of everyone leaving.”
The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur of small talk, shoveling food into my mouth, and present opening. Ellie graciously agreed not to force me into any stupid baby shower games as long as I promised to open my presents in front of everybody.
Someone in the universe must have heard my pleas, because every single present I opened was something Iactuallyput on my registry–not one rogue (i.e., useless)gift in the bunch.
When I reach the last gift, I realize it’s the enormous one Granny brought in earlier. As I begin to carefully dismantle the exquisite wrapping job, she interjects.
“Now dear, this wasn’t on your registry, but I couldn’t help myself.”
Damn.
But when I remove the paper, there’s no disappointment or annoyance whatsoever. In my hands is one of the most beautiful quilts I’ve ever seen–a stunning, but understated, pattern of green and pink florals with scalloped edges, and a blank space in the bottom corner.
“Once you pick a name for your little one, give it back to me so I can embroider it,” she instructs as I sit silently gaping at the gift. “Jack told me you don’t have one yet, but I wanted you to have it even if it’s not finished yet.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. “This is stunning, Granny. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Every baby deserves a blankie made with love,” she says, waving me off as though she hasn’t just given me the most meaningful thing I’ve ever received. “Something told me your daddy wasn’t going to do it, so I figured somebody had to.”
I rise from my chair, rather ungracefully since I’m now the size of a small bus, and hug her tightly, trying to pour the gratitude I can’t find words for into the embrace.
“Thank you,” I whisper tearfully. “This means so much to me.”
“There, there,” she says, patting me on the back. “You’re quite welcome, dear.”
When we break apart, ours aren’t the only wet eyes in the room.
“All I got you was a stupid bottle warmer,” Jenna says, wiping her eyes. “Why’d you have to show us all up like that, Virginia?” A collective chuckle ripples around the room, and friendly chatter resumes as Jenna and Madison begin clearing away the discarded wrapping paper while Ellie diligently documents who brought what for the thank you notes I’m sure she’ll be sending on my behalf.
But all I can do is hug the soft fabric to my chest, silently thanking my lucky stars that in spite of everything, I know Little One will never feel anything but abundantly loved.
Chapter 30
Jack
Thirty Five Weeks
"Oh my God he does exist," Tyler gasps dramatically when I walk out of my office. His shift hadn't started when I got here this morning, and I've been locked in my office all day, trying to get ahead on paperback before Little One is born. I hadn't really thought about it, but I assume I'll take at least a week or two off to help out while Abby settles into a routine with a newborn.
