Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Context, Ben!” Elle hollers at him. “You know I’ve been down here talking babies and shit with P and you blurt out they’re coming. Who’s coming? The Redcoats? Your imaginary swimmers? Geez!”
Noah snorts. I cover my mouth with my hand. Elle’s clearly tired of his shit. God, I love them together.
“My bad,” Ben says all sassy like. “I texted Quinn and Nola. They’re on their way over.”
“Oh good,” Elle says. “We can talk about wedding plans.”
I shake my head. “What are they waiting for?”
“Her,” Elle says. “Quinny says she won’t pick a date or there is always something going on at her parent’s house. You know they host weddings there and Nola wants to get married there but her mom never puts her on the list.”
“I wonder if she doesn’t like Quinn,” Ben says. Elle and I throw daggers at him.
“That’s our brother you’re speaking about,” Elle says.
“How can someone not like Quinn?” I ask.
Ben holds his hand up. “We . . .” he points to all of us, “love him. Everything about him. Nola’s family isn’t like your family. They’re not famous musicians who raised their kids on a tour bus. They’re a southern family who go to church on Wednesdays and twice on Sundays,” he says. “They’re a big family, lots of grandbabies, and have that mysterious generational wealth. I’m sure when Quinn showed up, all emo rocker like, they were probably a bit taken back by him.”
“Ben has a point,” Noah says.
“Hush,” I tell him. “Do you really think it’s her family dragging their feet?”
“Makes sense,” Elle says. “Think about it, they never come out here and Quinn rarely goes there. Huh.” Elle trails off.
“If they don’t like him then they suck dirty pond water,” I say with a huff. “Like, how can you not like Quinn? He’s perfect!”
“You’re biased,” Noah says to her. “I can tell you right now, from experience, my grandparents aren’t that fond of my dad. They tolerate him, but given a choice, they’d choose Nick every day of the week for my mom.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
Noah shrugs. “My dad knows this. Despite everything, there’s a lot of animosity. Sure, they’re cordial but my grandfather isn’t rolling out the red carpet for my dad anytime soon.”
“Wow, I’m shocked. I never knew.”
“Why do you think they’re never at any functions? They never come to my games. Christmas. Birthdays. My mom goes over to their house. I love them but they’re bitter old people who need to get over what happened when my mom was eighteen. My dad is forever paying for his mistakes. Honestly, it’s not fair.”
“Noah, that’s really sad,” I tell him. “They’re missing out on so much.”
He nods. “Mom invites them to everything. They chose to go on cruises and vacations with their friends. You can’t force people to like you,” he says.
“Wow, all this talking sucks.”
“What sucks?” Quinn comes into view and my smile widens. I stand and go to him. I haven’t seen him in weeks. Not my choice. His manager is a royal pain in the ass who makes him and his band practice.
“Hugs,” I say when I reach him. He hugs me tightly. “We really need to find you a new manager. One that lets you come up for air every now and again.”
“Hey, I resemble that statement,” Elle says, much to everyone’s chagrin.
I push Quinn out of the way and hug Nola, working hard to put what Ben said out of my mind. I don’t believe it for one second. I refuse to.
“If Ben had told us he invited you over, I would’ve had some food ready or something,” I say as I sit back down.
“You didn’t have any for us,” Elle points out.
“I didn’t invite you over,” I retort.
“Touché,” she says.
“Done.”
All eyes are on Ben, again.
“Context Benjamin!” Elle throws her hands in the air.
“Sorry. I ordered food.”
“Thank you, Ben,” I say to him. Elle leans into him and kisses him. She mouths “I love you” and it brings a smile to my face.
We chat for a bit about nothing of importance. Quinn knows what tomorrow brings for me, and maybe Elle if I can convince her to change her mind. I pray my egg retrieval is a success, that Noah’s sperm does its job, and in two weeks the doctor is putting an embryo where it needs to go. Those are my thoughts though and I don’t want to share them with anyone but my husband.
Noah’s phone chimes, letting us know there’s someone at our front door. He, Ben, and Quinn run off to get the food and bring back drinks for everyone. What a perfect way to spend the evening before my stress levels increase. Before the paranoia sets in.
“How are things?” Elle asks Nola.
What Ben said weighs heavily on my mind. I’m tempted to ask Nola, but it’s not my place.