Eligible Ex-husband - Marie Johnston Page 0,55

eyes. “Expanding.”

“I told her that we’ll start to look for a new space and work on hiring her own assistant. I think it’s time. You need more help, and it’s so nice to spend a holiday together.”

There’s a hint of wistfulness in her voice. “I feel like there’s a but.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I mean, I feel bad that Rachel has to do another holiday by herself. One of those things where I’m so happy we can be together, but then sad because not everyone has this opportunity.”

“Then invite her.”

She sets a colander full of ripe strawberries next to my cutting board and gazes up at me, guarded delight in her hazel eyes. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“The more the merrier. We have plenty of food and she can bail before we go to Bonanzaville for fireworks or she can join us, depending on how she and her kiddos feel.” I want Natalie to keep the friendships she strengthened during our split. It wasn’t until she talked about Aleah and Rachel that I reflected on our lack of couple friends, and my lack of friends and acquaintances outside of work.

When Abby was a toddler and we’d go to the park, I’d strike up conversations with other dads, but it never went far. I always had to return to work.

“You’re okay with telling her about us?” she asks.

“Only if you are.” I was okay with telling the world, but even if Natalie is more comfortable doing it one person at a time, it’s still progress.

She leans against the counter with a bemused expression, her arms crossed. “Look at us. Having friends and family over. Throwing a party.”

We talked about doing that pre-divorce, but our world had closed in on itself until it was just us and Gainesworth Equity. I trap her against the counter, thinking of all the ways I can delight her beyond inviting her friends over.

“The first of many, babe.” It was a promise. This is only the beginning, and there’s no end in sight.

Natalie

Laughter drifts across the lawn. Kia tags Simon’s legs and runs off. Maddy and Abby scatter, peals of giggles carrying across the yard. Simon sprints across the yard, his strong legs carrying him so far so fast that he’s practically doing a slow-motion run to give the kids a chance.

As he runs, his shirt plasters to his broad chest. I’ve been watching him play more than I’ve been watching the kids.

“He certainly seems to be having fun,” Mom comments. Normally, she’d be trotting around the yard, but she’s not quite one hundred percent. My dad’s wandering through the grass, making jovial comments about the game of tag and keeping an eye on Rachel’s youngest, Braxton.

“He’s always been good with kids.” I take a sip of the lemonade Rachel brought.

She reclines in her chair, her head back and her sunglasses hiding that her eyes are probably closed. “All I know is that I owe you and Simon my sanity.”

“That bad?” When I called, I half expected her to assume it’s a pity invite and say no, but she offered up her special blueberry lemonade—which is really store-bought lemonade—and said she’d be here in a half hour.

“Not all the time. It’s like they know it’s a special day but we were just staying home. Nothing was making Braxton happy and I felt like Kia was holding a contest for most ornery day ever.”

Mom gets up and pats Rachel’s shoulder. “When I’m feeling better, I’ll offer up a day a month to hang out with them.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mrs. Wagner.”

Mom brushes her off. “Janie or Nana. Hearing ‘Mrs. Wagner’ makes me shudder. My mother-in-law was a hard woman. Anyway, an old retired lady can spare a day to entertain kids. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to steal Abby’s bed for a quick snooze so I don’t crash during fireworks.”

“Your family’s amazing,” Rachel says when Mom leaves.

“Yours would be too if they lived closer.”

She lifts her head and we both gaze at the revelry. Simon swoops down and picks up Braxton, tucking him into his arms without missing a beat of tag.

Rachel looks at me, her aviator sunglasses hiding her expression. “He’s good with kids. Like, really good.”

“He always has been. I think it’s because he has the same energy they do. It’s nice to see it channeled toward fun and not his job.”

“Is it channeled toward you too?”

My cheeks warm. That’s not exactly what she’s asking, but Simon and I have expended plenty of energy