I was thinking, ask me if I have completely lost my mind. Her voice will be loud and her arms will most likely flail. And I’ll most likely be sobbing.
On second thought, I decide as I stuff my toiletries bag in the already too-stuffed luggage…maybe I just won’t tell her quite yet.
My spirits lift as soon as I spot the gorgeous blue clapboard beach house in the distance. It seems so long since we were all here together.
As we turn into the driveway, the girls squeal in unison. “We’re here!”
Gwen runs out to greet us as soon as we turn off the engine. She looks comfy in super-short jeans cut-offs and a light blue V-neck tee. She looks so relaxed, not a care in the world. How I wish I could be her right now.
She goes in for a hug as soon as I’m out of the car. “How was the drive?”
“Great,” I tell her and shoot Greg a smile. He’s giving Gabe a hand with the luggage.
Gwen steals a hug or two from Claire and Chloe. “You are both getting so big,” she tells them, “and so beautiful.”
As soon as I step into the cozy beach house, I almost forget all my problems. I drop my over-stuffed beach bag on the striped entry rug, and take in the light and airy shabby-chic interior. It’s chock-full of old painted furniture; armoires, a coffee table, and chairs which are so charmingly rustic and quaint. They look like they’ve been picked at a flea-market sale on the side of the road for a steal. But I know for a fact that she spent a small fortune on each and every one of those pieces at various posh décor stores.
This takes me back to Hawaii, but I feel so much more laid-back than I did then. I could actually relax here. As beautiful as Weston and Bridget’s place in Hawaii was, I felt myself tense as soon as I walked in. With its sleek lines, high-end streamlined modern pieces, and wide open spaces with million dollar views, it was very intimidating — much like Weston and Bridget can sometimes be.
Gwen urges us in and we plop down on the plush white linen covered sofas. I suck in a deep breath of beach air as I sit back and take in the ceiling with its large beams and gigantic wrought iron light fixture. “I am so happy to be here.”
She smiles. “Would you guys like a drink?” she asks, ever the charming hostess. “How about a beer for you, Gabe?”
Gabe stretches his long legs out on the old, dilapidated rustic (ironically super expensive) coffee table. “Sure.” He catches my eye for a second. He looks really good in his beige linen pants and thin white tee. His shirt stretches across his shoulders and the tattoo on his arm peeks through, just ever-so-slightly.
I bite my bottom lip, thinking it’s been way too long.
Gwen hands lemonades all around, to me and the girls. And Gabe has one of Greg’s fancy-ass imported beers.
“Cheers,” Gwen exclaims, throwing her glass of lemonade up into the air.
And we all join in, smiles on our faces. “Cheers. Cheers. Cheers.”
We spend most of the day at the beach. The girls have a blast, swimming in the waves of Lake Michigan, building sand castles, and sun bathing. I can already see their olive skin getting darker and I slather SPF 60 on my light freckled skin. Gabe certainly has his fun too as he twirls the girls up in the air over the waves. The squeals of their laughter almost drown out the conversation between Gwen and me. We don’t talk about much, mind you — just the usual — what we’ve been up to, the new cute dress she bought (which she tells me she’ll show me later), the new movies playing. And all I want is to tell her I’m having a baby…Weston’s baby. And I’m going literally insane. I desperately want to ask her what to do.
But I put on a brave smile and listen, and nod at all the right places. I hope I’m doing a great job. I hope no one can tell something’s seriously up with me.
I explore the waters for a spell, hidden in my black tankini. I’m not showing yet, thank God. But still, I can’t help but feel like they can all see. Gabe grabs me by the hips and throws me in. He’s got a good throw because I go flying off in