Page 78 of Trial and Error

Oscar looks exhausted as he reaches over and takes his youngest daughter from Isobel, the two of them watching as she scrunches before he lowers her to his chest. Olivia sits on the floor in front of the fireplace, playing with her Calico Critters that Mom brought out of the loft for her.

My family has been coming to this house for as long as I can remember. It was my grandparents home, where they lived until they passed nearly a decade ago. When it came to selling the estate, my mother and her sister decided that it would be great to keep it in the family and use it as a vacation home. My mom and aunt alternate on weeks during the year, and sometimes if we’re lucky, we’re all here together.

Isobel has been coming with Oscar since they met, but this is the first time I’ve brought someone here in a long time, and I know my mom is itching to say something about it, and so is my brother. This place is special to me and showing it to other people felt like baring a piece of my soul that I haven’t wanted to show most people other than her.

“You’re so in love,” Isobel teases, nudging me in the ribs with her point of her elbow.

I look past her at my brother who’s lazily stretched across the couch, rubbing small circles on Freya’s back as he nods in agreement. “Totally.”

I sigh, running my hands over my face. “I don’t know what I feel,” I say honestly. “She just gets me and it’s so easy being with her. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

Isobel squeals quietly and pats my knee enthusiastically. “Eli, this is so exciting. When we came home from the hospital and found the two of you cuddled up on the couch, we both said we’ve never seen you so happy—it suits you.”

Just as I’m about to respond, Bridget walks around the corner with a wide smile, and the words I’m about to say are lodged in the back of my throat. She’s wearing a pair of red pants that float around her legs whenever she moves and a white shirt that hugs her torso. I struggled to form words when I first saw her this morning and it’s no different now.

She shrugs off her cardigan, my eyes snagging on her breasts, and I groan, noticing the lack of a bra. The crotch of my jeans grows tight the more I think about peeling that shirt off and I have to force myself to think of something else to clear my head.

She makes a beeline for me, stepping over Olivia as she gets closer. Her left hand rests on my shoulder and curls around it as she lowers herself into my lap. Her warmth is welcome and blankets over the two of us. My hand finds her outer thigh and I give it a gentle tap and she looks down at me with bright eyes.

Leaning down, she rubs the tip of her nose against mine before pressing a whisper of a kiss against my lips. Her left hand cups the nape of my neck and I lean into it, humming approvingly as she threads her fingers through the hair there.

“You guys have become pretty good actors,” Oscar remarks.

Bridget pulls back and looks at him with a smirk. “Guess we’ve had a lot of practice.”

Isobel starts laughing and shakes her head. “Do you remember when your mom made you guys kiss the first time you brought her for dinner? I’ve never seen two people look so awkward in my life.”

“We were fine!” Bridget exclaims as she loops her arms around my neck and then giggles softly. “Though, I suppose that was the first time we kissed, so it was bound to be awkward.” She turns to look at me. “I’d say we’re pretty well practiced now.”

Oscar gags from where he sits and shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t need to be here for this conversation.”

Isobel rolls her eyes. “It’s not like we’re about to start discussing the size of his⁠—”

Oscar puts his hand over her mouth, cutting her off, then looks between her and Olivia with wide eyes. “Little gremlins present.” He pulls his hand away as he grins at the two of us. “You guys are disgustingly cute, though.”

Isobel narrows her eyes at us and then her grin widens. “You’ve slept together,” she says, and the three of us look over at her. “Oh my god, you’ve totally fucked each other.”

Oscar raises his brows at us, and I try to keep my face blank, but the bright red blush covering Bridget’s cheeks has him smirking. “Well, shit.”

Before either one of us can say anything, Mom shuffles into the living room with a tired look on her face. Patrick follows close behind and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her small frame into his side. They look at the four of us with joy on their faces. I see Mom’s eyes begin to water, and it hits me full force that this is probably going to be one of, if not, the last time we’re all here together. Bridget must realize it too, and her right hand covers mine on her hip and gives it a squeeze.

Mom watches the interaction and clasps her hands together. “Did Bridget tell you the good news?” I look up at Bridget and her blush deepens. “We’ve set a date for your big day!”

I feel the blonde in my arms sink further into me as she hides her fire truck red face into her shoulder. “Oh, we have? When is it? I’ll see if I’m free.”

The room is filled with laughter and I feel Bridget’s body shake softly. “The last weekend of October!” Mom beams.

I frown. “That’s only a few weeks away.” I look at her and can’t help but smile at the excitement on her face. “Mom, everywhere is going to be booked.”

She waggles her finger and her eyes are dancing with mirth as she says, “I’ve got it under control.” She then sighs and her voice wobbles slightly. “It’s so lovely having my family here. I want you both to use this place long after I’m gone, you hear me?” She looks at my brother and me.

The room falls silent at her words and we all look down at our laps. No one wants to be having this conversation right now, but it’s inevitable. “Where are you going, Grandma?”

Mom looks down at her granddaughter with watery eyes. “Somewhere peaceful, darling.”

We eat dinner pretty quickly, and while Bridget and I sit with my parents in the living room, Oscar and Isobel put the girls to bed. Bridget curls into my side as we take residence on the loveseat. Her head rests on my shoulder and her legs stretch across my lap. Patrick puts on his favourite Etta James record and the smooth sounds of “I’d Rather Go Blind” pours softly from the speakers. Bridget hums along to Etta and closes her eyes, her head rolling against my shoulder as she moves it side to side.

I look down at her serene face and can’t help but reach forward to trace her small smile with the tips of my fingers. Her eyes flutter open and something that looks like longing and affection shines in her baby blue irises. I run my thumb over her bottom lip, she presses a soft kiss against the pad of my thumb and her eyes close once again as my hand moves to cup her cheeks, stroking the tops of her cheekbones soothingly.