The First Taste(97)

“Come on, ’Mila,” Bell whines, pulling Amelia’s hand. “You can go, Dad. We’ll be okay.”

Amelia keeps her eyes on me. “Tonight, my door is open for you,” she says. “I hope you’ll walk through it.”





TWENTY-SEVEN



Nathan sips his club soda and sets it on the bar with a sigh. “Thank God that’s done. I don’t know what I was thinking planning a baby shower in the first place, and then I had to go and make it a surprise.”

“You were thinking it would make her happy.” The loving look on Sadie’s face when she stepped onto the terrace said it all. “And you were right.”

“I’ve been feeling helpless,” he admits. “She’s going through everything that comes with pregnancy—swelling, heartburn, mood swings—and I’m just over here fumbling through.”

“I know that’s not true. Sadie told me she’d have lost it a long time ago if it weren’t for everything you do for her.”

He smiles a little, looking over at me. “Yeah?”

“Definitely.” Sadie hadn’t exactly said that, but her eyes twinkle when she tells me about how Nathan brings home whatever she’s craving without her even asking. And how he spends hours researching cribs online. I take a drink of my Coke. “Look at us. At a bar drinking sodas. We’re pathetic.”

“I promised Sadie from now on I’d cut out alcohol. Show of support. She misses her wine.”

“And I have to drive back to Jersey tonight, which wouldn’t have stopped me from having a beer or two in the past.”

“And then Bell happened,” he infers. “We’re whipped by our women.”

I lean back on the barstool. “I’d say so.”

“We must be crazy to bring another one into the mix.”

I glance over at him, tilting my head. Nathan is more observant than I give him credit for, but for once, he’s wrong. Despite the fact that Amelia and I weren’t very discreet just now, he seems to have missed the fact it’s over between us. “Actually, Amelia and I aren’t . . . we’re done.” I nod behind us. “That’s what all that was about at the hotel.”

Nathan raises his eyebrows, no doubt sensing the lack of conviction in my tone. I don’t mention Amelia’s invitation. Do I want to go to her, let her put a Band-Aid on this with a bath, whisky and sex? Yes. I still want her. But it doesn’t change the fact that when she freaked out, she turned away from me when she should’ve done the opposite.

Finally, Nate says, “Ohh. You mean Amelia.”

“Yeah. Why? What other woman are we bringing into the mix?”

“Your niece.”

“Niece?” I ask. “But I don’t have—unless Sadie . . . but she doesn’t know the sex. Does she?” I widen my eyes and leap off the stool. “Dude. Are you telling me you’re having a girl?”

Nathan laughs loudly enough to turn a few heads. “Did you not notice the entire party was pink?”

I think back to the setup, which was disgustingly girly—because it was for a bunch of women, I thought. Now, details set in—the fact that the lace tablecloths and satin bows were the color of bubble gum. “I figured that’s just how baby showers were.”

“The cake said ‘It’s a girl.’”

“Oh.” My chest tightens at the thought of a baby girl, and it’s not so disgusting anymore. It’s fan-f*cking-tastic. It’s nearly tear inducing. I’m flooded with memories of Bell crawling for the first time, of how we dressed her up in a red velvet dress and black patent leather shoes for Christmas dinner, of falling asleep on the couch with her on my chest, the rest of me buried under dolls. I grin and slap Nathan on the back. He jolts forward. “No shit. A girl. Congratulations. They’re the most amazing . . .” A lump forms in my throat. “I can’t even put it into words.”

He nods. “I know, man. I know. I was there,” he says, referring to the last seven years with Bell. “Sit down before you hurt yourself. Or me.”

“I can’t even . . .” I get back on the seat, shaking my head. “I’m speechless. Sadie must be over the moon.”

“I took a risk announcing it like this,” he says, “but Sadie said she was ready to tell people last week, so I assumed it would be okay.”

I grimace. “You didn’t clear it with her?”

“How could I? It was a surprise.”

“A little advice,” I say, “I don’t care if she’s Mother Teresa—when dealing with a pregnant woman, assume nothing.”

“She didn’t seem mad about it,” he points out. “Not at all.”

“That could be. But still. Don’t think you’re off the hook yet. She could strike at any time.”

“You make her sound like a rattlesnake hiding in the bushes.”

“Two words.” I hold up my fingers and count down. “Shana and hormones.”

“Ah. I see why you’d be traumatized,” he says. “So . . . she’s back, huh?”

“No. I don’t know. I’m hoping if I ignore her long enough, she’ll go away.”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. Wish I could say it’s a surprise, but you never know with her. Is that why you’re putting the brakes on with Amelia?”