Every Wrong Reason(64)

I opened the door and was swarmed by munchkins. They ran circles around me, grabbing at clothes and body parts and whatever else they could reach. Annie jumped into the mix, torn between protecting me from the savages and trying to force their attention on her.

I knew I should have stayed in yoga pants and Nick’s old tees.

“Look at you guys! You got so big! How did that happen?”

The middle munchkin stopped skipping to look up at me and say, “Veg-a-tubs.”

I raised a curious eyebrow at my old college roommate, Fiona, and repeated, “Veg-a-tubs?”

She grinned at me, with her classic Fiona grin and said, “Veg-a-tub-les.”

I stepped to the side so Fi could usher her gaggle inside with her full hands. She put the baby’s car seat on the rug and closed the door behind her. After she’d systematically stripped each child out of their hat, gloves, coat and boots, she turned her attention to her newest one. I was anxious to see the little guy, but right now, he was buried beneath a zipper thing and a mountain of blankets.

“Can he breathe in there?”

She shot me a glare over her shoulder. “Yes. But these freaking winters. I swear we can hardly leave the house because I’m afraid one of my children is going to turn into a popsicle.”

“I bet it’s Gigi. She looks the most popsicle like.” Gigi wrinkled her nose at me until her mom turned her attention back to the baby, then she stuck her tongue out. “Clever little girl.” I leaned over and tweaked her nose. Standing back up, I announced to Gigi, the three-year-old and Jack, the six-year-old, “There’s Legos on the table and coloring books for those who are interested.” When neither of them moved immediately, I had to stoop to more desperate measures, “And snacks.” They raced for the kitchen.

Fiona stood up with a gurgling baby in her arms and I felt myself start to glow. “Gimme gimme gimme.”

She handed over baby Jonah and I cuddled him against my chest. Babies had the best smell. Annie licked my jean-clad leg, distraught that I had something else to snuggle with.

Fiona looked a little lost with nothing to hold or scold. Her eyes moved around my entryway and living room, looking for something new or breakable she should put up, out of her children’s reach.

She had always been remarkably beautiful. Her long hair was a soft, supple brown that fell in the kind of glossy waves that belonged in a shampoo commercial. And her eyes were the same rich, coffee-with-cream hue. She’d put on some weight since having her kids, but it looked good on her. It gave her that curvy, pin-up girl figure. She was one of the lucky human beings that could gain weight in all the right places. Like her boobs. I could never gain weight in my boobs. But you’d better be damn sure that was always the first place I lost it. My body hated me.

Satisfied with my preventative measures, she turned back around and asked, “But what are we going to do in five minutes when they’ve eaten you out of house and home and they’re bored with the new toys?”

“Then I have Netflix.”

“God, you’re good.”

I grinned at her. “Anything to spend time with you! Do you want a drink? Or a snack?” I started walking toward the kitchen. “I made cookies!”

“What kind?” She followed after me. “And are they burnt?”

“Chocolate chip. And half of them.”

“Give the burned ones to the kids.”

I laughed at her. “Won’t they notice?”

“As long as they taste sugar, they will literally eat anything. They’re like locusts.”

I whirled around and pulled her into a hug, gently keeping the baby out of the way. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you!” We released each other and she took a seat at the table, immediately pulling a few Legos to her so she could fiddle. “But I was hoping you’d put on a bunch of weight. Like at least a hundred pounds. I hate how skinny you are.”

Knowing she was just being snarky, I ignored her sassy comment. “Yeah, well, divorce will do that to you.”

“I still can’t believe you and Nick are getting a divorce! It doesn’t seem possible. You guys have always been perfect for each other!”

Her words stung. There was a silent accusation there that I only picked up because I knew her so well. I focused on doling out the cookies. “Obviously not. We fought all the time. I couldn’t make him happy and he couldn’t make me happy. You haven’t been around us much in the last couple years, Fi. It’s been bad.”

She let out a patient sigh and reached for more Legos. “Come on, Kate. You know better than that. You guys weren’t perfect for each other because you never fought. You were perfect for each other because you can still love each other even if you’re fighting.”

“But I’m so tired of it. I’m so tired of disagreeing about everything, of always being on the defensive. I’m sick and tired of hating myself.”

Her gaze snapped up to catch mine and her eyes glittered with the gravity of the moment. “Then stop.”

“That’s what I’m trying-”

“No, I don’t mean get a divorce so you don’t have to deal with him anymore. I mean stop fighting with him. Stop being defensive. Stop disagreeing and disrespecting him.”

I tilted my chin stubbornly. “It’s not that easy and you know it.”