Page 129 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

“It’s radioactive,” Andrew says from behind a stack of boxes. He doesn’t look up.

“Babies love cheerful,” Liam insists.

“Babies can’t see colors yet,” Ethan says from the kitchen. He has his laptop open. He is absolutely running a furniture placement analysis. He will never admit this.

“They can feel the energy,” Liam says.

“That’s not—” Ethan stops. Takes a breath. “That’s not how energy works.”

“It’s how vibes work. Which is a subset of energy. Andrew, back me up.”

Andrew appears in the doorway holding a paint chip. He looks at the chip. Looks at the wall. “It’s a lot of yellow.”

“It’s joyful.”

“It’s aggressive.”

“Same thing.”

I sit down on a box in the hallway and just watch them. Liam has the screwdriver again. He’s attempting something with the crib that I’m sixty percent sure is wrong. Andrew watches him for exactly four seconds, then steps in and adjusts one piece, and the whole section clicks into place.

Liam stares at it. “Okay. But it was basically there.”

“It wasn’t,” Andrew says, already walking away.

“It was conceptually there.”

“That’s still not there.”

“Andrew—”

“Liam.”

I laugh, and I don’t check it for cracks.

Ethan appears in the kitchen doorway. “If anyone had followed the unpacking system I sent, the boxes would be done by now.”

“We’ve been doing fine,” Liam says.

“You’ve been arguing with hardware for forty minutes.”

“That’s part of the process.”

“That’s the opposite of the process.”

“Maybe your process is wrong.”

Ethan opens his mouth. Looks at me. I hold up both hands. “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

“Coward,” Liam says cheerfully.

I slip away after a while and stand in the doorway of the nursery. It’s not finished—the paint is dry but one wall still has tape on the trim. An unopened box in the corner says MISC with a question mark underneath that I think means none of us know what’s in it.

My hand goes to my stomach. The baby moves, that flutter I’m getting used to now. More distinct every day.

I moved to Portland because I needed somewhere that felt temporary. I told myself that was practical. I picked an apartment where everything could be boxed up in an afternoon. I thought that was a feature. This can’t be boxed up in an afternoon.

I’m still figuring out what to do with that.