Page 144 of The Trouble with Flings

“Not a chance, Silver,” she says sharply. “We made a deal.”

That’s my girl, as bossy as ever.

As our baby’s heartbeat swishes around us, one truth settles deep in my bones.

My family built a legacy on Silver Island, but this—Jennifer, the baby, us—is the legacy that matters most.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Jennifer

June arrived in a blur of sunshine, exhaustion, and absolute madness. Between graduation prep, teacher evaluations, parental crises, awards nights, and approximately two thousand emails a day, I’ve barely had time to think. We’re two weeks away from summer break, and I cannot wait for a little less chaos. Fitz has been coming to the city on the weekends, and I have never been more thankful for foot rubs. Or for him. By Friday nights, I’m fried, but knowing I’ll see him perks me right up. Thankfully, he doesn’t mind when I have to attend a weekend event, which happens a lot this time of year.

Cait has been keeping up with Holden in my absence, and he’s kept in touch with me via text, proudly showing off the progress he’s making on the mural. Cait says people often stop to watch him paint, and though he’s not exactly welcoming yet, he’s not unkind and answers their questions while continuing to paint. Erin has seen a difference in him at home, and she said his teachers have noticed him interacting more with other students who are curious about the mural. It’s a start.

It’s Saturday afternoon, and I was nearly late for my own gender reveal. I made it to the island with barely twenty minutes to spare after an awards ceremony ran long in the city.

Usually, this time of year is all about counting the days until summer break.

This year I’m counting dragonflies.

They’re pink and blue, and they’re everywhere. They’re on a banner hanging across Margot’s backyard, which reads He or She? What Will Baby Stone-Silver Be?, printed on cocktail napkins, woven into wildflower centerpieces in silk and wire, their tiny wings glittering beneath the lights, hanging from tree branches, and perched on the gorgeous cake Keira baked. I was told the dragonflies were Margot’s idea, because of what happened at Easter, which I kind of love more than I know how to express.

I’m pretty sure Keira, Bellamy, Jules, and Daphne lost their minds when they were planning our gender reveal, and I mean that as the highest possible compliment. Margot’s backyard has transformed into something out of a fairy tale. Pink and blue ribbons wind through the pergola posts and along the deck railing. Enormous clusters of pink and blue balloons anchor each corner. A long table draped in white is covered in what can only be described as Keira’s greatest hits: tiered trays of cookies shaped like onesies, rattles, pacifiers, and baby carriages, covered with pink and blue icing, and a towering cake, flanked by tiered cupcake trees, the cupcakes frosted in pink and blue. I didn’t realize they were going to get Jared involved, but I’m touched that he took part and did what he does best.

He made enough food to feed all four families twice over.

Four families, because the Steeles and Remingtons are just as much Fitz’s family, as his is becoming mine. This is only the second time I’ve been to the island in the last five weeks, and boy, have I missed everyone. The girls have kept in touch over text, checking on me and the baby and keeping me in the loop with goings-on in their lives. This time last year, I never would have imagined being this close to a group of women I’ve known for such a short time. Any women, really. Now I can’t imagine my life without them.

We just finished playing another silly game, which involved diapering baby dolls while blindfolded. I didn’t win.

We’ve got a short break while Keira, Indi, Wells, and Grant set up more games, which apparently includes plastic strollers. Fitz went to get me a glass of water, and I’m hanging with Mia, Jayla, Victory, and Leni.

The lawn is crawling with family and friends. It feels so alive, I want to soak up everyone’s energy. I love seeing my mom with Margot, Gail, Shelley, and Lenore. She looks so happy, as does my father, talking with the other fathers, their keen eyes keeping tabs on everyone.

Bellamy looks runway ready in a pale pink sundress and oversized sunglasses as she organizes people into what she keeps saying are candid moments, but aren’t candid at all. Joey and Thane are blowing bubbles for the toddlers to chase, while Hadley and Kyleigh run circles around them wearing dragonfly wings and glitter crowns, and their parents watch with amusement.

Mia straightens my tiara and says, “You love this.”

I roll my eyes, because I’m not a tiara girl, but the truth is, I am loving it. All of it, from my tiara and Fitz’s crown to our pink and blue sashes with Mommy-to-Be and Daddy-to-Be in gold script. I’ve never been the kind of girl who enjoys being the center of attention, but I’m starting to wonder why I shied away from it. Is there such a thing as being too independent? I vow to make sure our child never misses out on these types of friendships and celebrations.

“You don’t have to wear it,” Victory says.

“She doesn’t hate it,” Jayla says. “Jennifer doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do. Ever.”

“I might be enjoying it a little,” I admit, then lower my voice conspiratorially. “Just don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

We all laugh.

Mia’s phone chimes. She checks the text, and her cheeks pink up.

“What’s that all about?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Mia says as she thumbs out a text.

Jayla peers over her shoulder, reading the text. “Reggie’s here? On the island?”

“He’s visiting his mother,” Mia says.