“I thought Eden qualified for the Olympics?” Mack asks. “Isn’t that where you and Justine went on your honeymoon?” he directs the question toward Quinn.
“We thought so, but it was a qualifier for a qualifier or something. The process is confusing,” Quinn says. “Eden’s ranked third in the world and could win the whole thing.
“That’s insane,” Mack says.
It is insane. We have an Olympian. Sort of. JD’s kid, but we claim her. She’s ours and we’ll all be there when she takes center stage.
Nick shifts Jett and nods at the wet patch spreading down my shirt. “He likes you.”
“He’s leaking on me.”
“Same thing, with babies.”
Ben reaches for the potatoes, and Elle slides the dish closer before he has to stretch for it. He gives her a look.
“I can lift a bowl, Elle.”
“I know you can.” She doesn’t move the dish back.
“Dad, are we running the same scheme as last time?” Mack asks Nick.
“Ask at practice.”
“I’m asking now,” Mack says.
Nick glares across the table and as much as I hate to admit this, I agree with Nick.
“If you have a team question, you ask when the team is present.”
Mack nods and goes back to eating, putting an end to that conversation.
“Peyton and Elle, can I ask a question about the babies?” Justine asks.
Peyton and Elle say, “yes.”
“How do you tell the boys apart? With Junie, it’s easy. But the boys are identical and all four even look like each other.”
“For me, it’s their demeanor or how they cry,” Peyton says and I pay attention because lord knows I need all the help I can get. “Maverick is wild whereas Jace is mellow and always staring at his surroundings.”
“With Jett and Sonny,” Elle says, “Sonny’s hair curls at the end. And both boys have dimples. Sonny’s is on the right cheek and Jett’s is on the left.”
“Oh, that’s easy.”
Elle nods.
“Thanks, Justine,” I say. “I really needed that lesson.”
“Really?” Elle glares at me and I shake my head slowly. I’ll never admit to their mama that I couldn’t tell them apart.
Somebody asks where my mother is. Bianca’s got the early baby shift tomorrow, so she begged off tonight. Josie makes me promise to send her a plate.
Noah ends up next to me when the noise dies down, scraping the last off his plate. He’s got his mother’s patience and my hairline, poor kid.
“First show went all right, then,” he says.
“Seems like.”
“Mom had it on. Sat through the whole thing.”
