or Liam? Secondly, you’re twenty-eight. And you just turned twenty-eight. Stop rushing your age. I turn twenty-three in less than a month, and you don’t hear me jumping it up. And stop assuming life has checkboxes. Jesus.”
“Sorry, I’m—”
“And stop saying sorry. I know, we’re Canadian, it’s our thing. But I asked for the stress. I said bring it on. You’re bringing it.” I laugh. “But these are not the mountains you’re making them. They’re molehills. Your plate is just so full that adding something small like coming to this wedding tips you over the edge. You don’t have room for a crumb.”
I pause and let my words sink in the way Bev does. It takes a second for Jenny to nod. “You’re right.” She’s kinda hyperventilating and it’s off-putting to see such a control freak losing it over a birthday party.
“This is what we’re going to do, and yes, I said ‘we’re.’ You and I are a we. And I want to help.” I lift her chin and kiss her to stop her from talking. “I’ll talk to an event coordinator I know who will handle this birthday party. Not because you’re incapable of doing it. And not because you need my help—”
“Lori—”
“But because I want to do this. For you. I want to help you. Let me.” I stare her down and something in the sentence hits her and the response is in her eyes. They widen for a second and she pauses there, scared of it but processing.
“Okay.” She doesn’t sound certain, not at all, but she nods. “Okay.” She’s doubting her answer. “But you let me pay for it.”
“In sexual favors, my favorite currency? What a great idea.” I tilt my head and grin. “I was wondering how I could possibly make you indebted to me in bed for all eternity. This works. I like it. First order of business is you leaning over that bed—”
“You’re an idiot.” She smiles and it’s real.
“Okay, I’ll lean over the bed and you stand behind me with one of those—”
“Shut up, Lori,” she says as she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. “Thank you.”
It’s the first time since she pulled away that things might be all right. She let me help and the problem isn’t even a big deal. I’ll have it fixed in ten minutes and look like a superhero.
13
Bad news, part deux
Jenny
“This place is bananas,” Sukii whispers as we roam the grounds toward the garden that has a maze at one end like The Shining. “There’s a games room. A music room. Who has a music room? Or two living rooms and a rec room. There’s a full bar with a dude working behind it and two cooks in the kitchen and a server. Two pools. Who has two pools?”
“Yeah, and did you see the six-car garage? Like who needs a six-car garage on an island?” I ask, hoping no one hears us. I don’t mean to judge Lori but this is extreme.
“And the yacht, I looked it up on my phone when I was in the bathroom. It’s enormous and also has a full staff.” She sounds as shocked as I am seeing the house. “And did you see the bricked-in pizza oven in the kitchen? It’s a full wood-fired Forno oven.”
“No! That’s kinda awesome. I bet Nat loves that. She seems like she might be a junk food queen. Every time I see her, she’s eating nachos or pizza and talking about jerk chicken and panini sandwiches.”
“Cap says she hasn’t been feeling well all week. I hope she’s not sick for her wedding. What a disappointment that would be.”
“No kidding.”
“Speaking of not feeling well, how are you?” Sukii lowers her voice again.
“Fine, no morning sickness yet. But the website my doctor told me to read said it would start closer to five weeks, if it did at all. They said the second month and third are typically the worst. I’ve just been tired.”
“When will you tell him?”
“Sunday, as soon as the wedding’s over.” The thought of it gives me a case of the whole body shivers, but Matt’s right about one thing—Lori deserves to know. He should be able to choose for himself if he wants to be part of it. And if he still wants to be with me.
“What will you do if he wants to stay together and have this kid?”
“I don’t know.” I scoff at the absurdity of it.
“This pregnancy hasn’t sunk in yet, has it?” Sukii offers up a skeptical expression.
“It’s