His hand was strong around mine as I used it to help pull myself out of the seat, a yawn howling from me. “You need a nap.”
“Ugh.” I nodded. “I so want a nap.” Another thing pregnancy had changed about me. It’d turned my non-nap-loving self into a serial napper. I could happily nap for only ten minutes, so long as I snuck one in.
“My babies!” Mom hurried over, arms wide as she tried to squeeze us both in a gripping hug. My stomach made that a little hard, but she didn’t seem to care.
Dad grasped my face, inspecting it before saying, “You look tired, Stevie girl.”
“God, thanks.”
He grinned. “Still beautiful, so don’t be hating.”
“Don’t say don’t be hating and we should be fine.” I kissed his cheek, then did my best not to waddle across the lawn as I headed inside.
He was right. I must have been tired since even one look at the gardens in desperate need of love didn’t so much as slow my feet.
Everett brought our bags to my room. “Don’t worry, I’m on the couch.”
I didn’t have the energy to say anything. I crawled onto my bed, comforted by the scents of home, and passed out to the sound of Everett’s soft chuckle.
A gentle wobble of my shoulder, and my hair shifted from my face. “Dinner’s ready.”
I was instantly up, earning me a rich bout of laughter as I tried to orientate myself with my surroundings.
Home. My old room.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, not bothering to fix what I was sure was one hell of a bird’s nest atop my head before pushing myself up.
Everett took my arm, halting me. I frowned, then groaned with mortification when he swiped below my bottom lip. “Lovely.”
“Even when you drool, baby.”
I shoved him playfully, and he grinned, moving for me to amble out and down the hall. The scent of food tugged me one way while my bladder screamed for me to veer into the bathroom.
“I’ll prepare you a plate. Go use the bathroom.”
I grumbled beneath my breath, then shut the door on his smiling face to do my business.
Everett was heaping sausages and salad and cobs of corn onto my plate when I plucked out a chair and all but collapsed into it. “Smells so good.”
I yanked it from him and got started, ignoring the laughter my parents tried to contain.
“Your mom was all about the ribs when she was pregnant with you.” Dad cut into his sausage, then speared some salad. “Lost count of how many late-night trips I made.”
“She wants anything she can pour gravy on,” Everett said, drizzling some over my food.
Mom was watching us with a sparkle in her eye, and I smiled back, ignoring the way it grated. Trying to ignore how I was the only person in the room who still seemed to harbor any ill feelings toward the man next to me.
A honk outside had Mom’s fork dropping with a clatter, and Dad looked up just as the front door opened.
“Hola! We come bearing Christmas carols.” Hendrix skidded into the kitchen, waving his phone in the air. Graham, New Guy, and Dale came crashing in behind him.
As everyone said their hellos, Hendrix readied his phone, and as Hendrix’s voice filled the room, singing Everett’s lyrics, I couldn’t stop myself from observing Everett.
His knife and fork were suspended midair, his jaw slack as he listened.
Hendrix watched, excitement warring with trepidation, waiting for the same reaction I no doubt was, but it never came.
“Well, I’ll be fucking damned,” Everett said through a laugh, dropping his utensils and shoving his chair back.
Back thumps and half hugs were had as one song rolled into the next, and the guys dragged stools from the kitchen counter to the table.
Mom’s eyes were glossed, a lone tear rolling down her cheek, elbows on the table, and her hands clasped beneath her chin. Even Dad appeared choked up, his smile tilting as his attention stayed fixed on Hendrix’s phone.
When Everett returned to his seat, I dropped my knife and lowered my hand beneath the table, linking my fingers through his. Where they stayed as we listened to the rest of Orange Apples’ debut album.
Graham went home to see his parents, and New Guy joined him.
“What’s his name again?” I asked Everett when they’d left.
He rubbed his brow. “Ron. No, Raymond.” He cursed. “Rupert?”
I laughed and heard my phone from my room, but I was too comfortable on the