Page 136 of The Trouble with Flings

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right man yet,” Daphne says.

“She’s met him,” Bellamy says. “She’s just not ready to lay down her towel.”

Keira rolls her eyes. “I have a thriving business, friends who tolerate me, and a battery-operated boyfriend who never disappoints. I’m good.”

“Honey, at this stage of my life, I’m with you,” Faye says, sparking a lively debate about the nightmares of dating, the peace of being single, and whether the joys of coupledom are worth the headaches it takes to get there.

I reach for a piece of calamari as Keira makes a passionate case about the value of her own bathroom. Normally, I’d be all over that, agreeing like it’s my hill to die on. But now? On the days I’m not with Fitz, my apartment feels too empty.

As the debate gets louder, Faye leaves us to help another customer, and I settle back in my chair, enjoying the banter.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a running to-do list in my head of errands, emails, family callbacks, budget line items, tasks I forgot to do yesterday, and a million other things. It didn’t matter if I was at lunch, on the subway, or watching a movie, some part of my brain has always been halfway out the door. Right now there is no list. No voice tallying up the things I have to get done. There’s just this group of smart, funny women arguing about two sides of a coin I never thought I’d flip.

Daphne leans in and says, “I hope you don’t have to be anywhere for a while, because we’re not letting you leave until we’ve planned the best gender reveal this island has ever seen. I’m thinking we should have it at the winery. It’s a beautiful setting.” She runs the events for the Steeles’ winery.

“She’s having a Silver baby. The reveal should be at the Silver House,” Bellamy says, her eyes locked on us like she’s been listening all along.

“Either one would be beautiful,” Jules says.

I imagine a huge event, like the egg hunt, and mild panic kicks in. “That’s so nice of you guys to offer, but would it be okay to have something a little more low-key? My family will be here, and it could be overwhelming for them. Can we do it at Fitz’s house or at Margot’s?”

Keira leans closer, lowering her voice, and says, “It’s your gender reveal. You can do it wherever you want, and don’t let any of these Pushy Penelopes convince you otherwise.”

“We’re not being pushy,” Bellamy says.

“The look you gave her was pushy,” Keira says flatly.

“That’s because it’s obvious that it should be held at the Silver House,” Bellamy says, eating another piece of calamari. “Think of how many gender reveals could come of it for the business when the pictures go out on socials.”

“It’s not obvious,” Keira snaps. “That’s you thinking with your marketing brain and forgetting there’s a person carrying the baby at the center of all this.”

“I didn’t forget,” Bellamy insists. “I’m just making the most out of the opportunity. Sue me for being a gifted marketer.”

I smile, because she truly is a gifted marketer. As they debate having the event at Fitz’s or Margot’s house, Keira says, “How about we let Jen make that decision?”

All eyes land on me.

I should probably have an opinion, but both options sound perfect to me, and I have a feeling no matter which I choose, it’ll cause another debate, so I take the easy route and say, “I think I’ll let Fitz and Margot fight this one out.”

The conversation immediately shifts to color schemes, themes, and a dozen other details that I’m happy to let them choose, because our baby already has an entire team of people trying to make its world wonderful, and I know whatever they come up with is bound to be perfect.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Fitz

The wind whips off the water Thursday evening, blowing Jennifer’s hair across her face as we walk along the shore. She snuggles closer, one arm around me. Her other hand has disappeared into the sleeve of my sweatshirt she confiscated last night. It sneaks out long enough to tuck her hair behind her ear. Our days have been crowded with friends and family. But every night we take this walk, just us, and it’s become one of my favorite times of the day.

“What do you think about green?” I ask. We’ve been talking about the nursery, as Jennifer’s been worrying about being ready for the baby. I don’t know exactly what happened this week between her and the girls, but along with her growing excitement about the baby, she’s come up with a laundry list of worries, and I aim to ease them any way I can.

“Maybe,” she says, and hugs me a little tighter.

I kiss the top of her head, emotions clawing at me. I do my best to tamp them down, but she’s leaving tomorrow. Even though I’ve only had her to myself for just shy of a week, I can’t imagine waking up without her in my arms. Telling my family and friends about the baby has opened the floodgates. There were reasons to hold back before, and I know I still have to, at least to some extent with Jennifer, but man, I want it all with her.

“Yellow?” I ask. “It works for a boy or a girl.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Maybe. It feels like such a huge decision.”

She’s been so in all week, I wonder if in her head, decision is swapped to commitment, and now that she’s going back to the city, she feels the longing, too, and is trying to put some space between herself and those emotions.