when she punched his arm.
“You want to know what I didn’t have on my NIGHTWIND bingo card?”
He snickered and turned her way. “I can’t wait to hear.”
“Working with another black girl who just might be prettier than me and who doesn’t say it out loud, but she starts every sentence with, I have zero fucks to give.”
A rocket-propelled roar of laughter shot from him, and he fell back in his seat as Ali’s words sank in.
“Threatened?” he taunted.
She shrugged one shoulder and then the other. “Yes and no.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “It’s not always the years—sometimes it’s the mileage. Been there, done that,” Ali sneered. “Know what I mean?”
Without waiting for his agreement, she added a sniff meant to convey her annoyance and said, “Page one in my medical history is a body outline with dots, X’s, and arrows showing every gunshot, stab wound, and row of stitches. Pretty sure Jade can’t say the same.”
“No, but she has a kid. The single mom thing isn’t easy. Add being a woman of color, and her reality is just as sobering as yours.”
Ali’s quiet reverie held his attention. What was the former beauty queen thinking?
When she quietly murmured, “I’m thinking about having a kid,” he nearly shit himself.
“Er, uh, excuse me?”
“Don’t act so surprised, Arnie. Things have changed. All of us are finding our way and filling our bubbles with family. Dawn and the kids plus a new baby on the way. Jon and Lorelai are making loud baby noises. Hell, even Dottie has two grandkids.”
She tilted her head slightly in Izzy’s direction. “And don’t count out Felicity and Neal spawning.”
Arnie casually glanced at the two. As usual, they were pretending not to be together. The ridiculous ruse fooled no one, but until the duo came out as a couple, all of them played along.
“What about you? Feeling the wife and family pull yet?”
The casual inquiry startled him. He attempted not to show it, but a slight flinch gave him away.
“Touched a nerve, have I?” Aliyah Hawkin’s beauty queen turned super spy took no prisoners.
“Um, a wife. Hmm.” He shifted uncomfortably. Blowing sunshine up Ali’s skirt wasn’t going to fly. They knew each other too well.
Clearing his throat, Arnie made an effort to keep a casual tone. “I’m not sure there’s a lady out there willing to put up with my shit.”
“Now, by shit,” Ali teased, “are we talking the tasteless jokes, endless prankster antics, and all-around grinning bastard persona or your other shit?”
He gave her one raised brow. She snorted and continued.
“The Lurch costume was nice, and all but Izzy and I went in a different direction in the office betting pool. We had you pegged for Nostradamus or a fortune teller.”
He shook his head to reorganize his response, skipped over the costume issue, and dryly asked, “What betting pool?”
Looking at him with the sort of pity only a female can show, she schooled his clueless ass. “Dottie’s betting pool. She’s got a bunch of ’em going.”
To his credit, Arnie knew the expression on his face was a clear indicator of astonishment.
Ali laughed. “Don’t you read the newsletter?”
Dottie and her goddamn newsletter. Of course. Somehow every clueless conversation ended up here.
Shrieks of laughter from the happy couple who were just hours from tying the marital knot ended his and Ali’s chat. Tonight was about them—Jon and Lorelai.
Ari’s first Halloween costume consisted of an emerald-green footed onesie and an adorable headpiece that made her look like a baby sunflower. The little knit cap Lynda made, with its circlet of bright yellow fabric leaves, had a chinstrap and a ladybug embellishment.
“Don’t you look adorable,” she cooed.
They were getting ready to go out. A friend of Bud and Lynda’s was a photographer. Every holiday, he created a theme background with props in his garage and offered photo sessions to friends and friends of friends. Since she and Ari were confined to home, their only exposure to the world was through daily walks up and down the sidewalk, so the opportunity to get out and interact with people was exciting.
“Sunflowers were in Daddy’s seduction arsenal. I’m sure he’d love your outfit, sweetie.”
Was it a little weird how she talked to a three-week-old baby all the time? Maybe. Summer did it because talking kept her spirits up, and she figured as long as she smiled, spoke softly, and didn’t swear like a soldier, nothing she said was going to scar Ari’s psyche.
Reed gave her a small Canon camera for baby pics and family videos. She