Page 80 of The Irresistible Distraction

Because Brody proves immune to my pleading, we barely clean up in time to pick up Sebastian together. He offers to drive, even though there’s really no reason to, and takes my hand, keeping the conversation light during the short trip to Sally’s house, which, like almost everything in Lake Arrowhead, takes around fifteen minutes to get to. Since Sally and I have mostly chatted or emailed directly before or after PTA meetings, about PTA business, I’m surprised by how warmly she welcomes us. Sally tells me, the barest hint of envy in her voice, that Sebastian is a much better chess player than Aidan, but also that my son is a great teacher, that they spent all afternoon playing match after match.

“He’s welcome to come over anytime. This is the first time Aidan’s spent an entire day away from his phone and his video games.”

“That’s not true,” Aidan starts to protest, rolling his eyes.

And I am positively delighted at the look of pure exasperation that crosses Sally’s face. We share a look, mother to mother, that transcends the need for words, that communicates everything from This is so exhausting, to When will the teenage years end? and OMG, screens are the devil, right? She doesn’t comment on the hand Brody rests on my back, and Sebastian also takes it in stride, his face beaming even as he keeps his voice steady, when Aidan invites him to come over again in a few days.

On the way home, I think: I could get used to this.

I try to ignore the small part of me that cautions: But you shouldn’t.

That night, instead of texting Brody back, I message and then (after confirming she was already awake) call Maggie.

“Thank God. I was worried you were going to turn into one of those friends who ditches me just because you’ve finally got a man.”

“You were not.”

“Well, no, but I was considering sending Tyler to do a search and rescue if you didn’t contact me.”

From her side of the phone, I hear Tyler mutter something that sounds suspiciously like Not worth the risk.

“Did Tyler just say he wouldn’t come and save me?”

“No, it’s left over from our discussion earlier. He said it’s not worth the risk to walk in on you and Sexy Tourist doing the kinky deed.”

“It’s not kinky.”

“So you are doing the deed.”

“Does Tyler really need to hear all of this?” I ask, knowing my voice likely carries a little too well, considering the acoustics of their little two-bedroom A-frame.

“No. I really don’t.” Tyler must have taken the phone from Maggie because I can hear his voice clearly now, and I can also hear Maggie saying something threatening about the fact that she wants her phone back right, right now. “But before I move to the couch to give you ladies some privacy, I wanted to tell you: I’m happy for you.”

This, from Tyler, is surprising. Tyler, Jesse, Maggie, and I shared a limo to prom; Jesse and I were best man and maid of honor at their wedding.

As if reading my mind, Tyler elaborates without my needing to ask. “Yeah, Jesse’s moving back, but he shouldn’t have expected you to wait.”

“He never said it, exactly.”

“He didn’t need to. We all know you, me, all of Lake Arrowhead? We were always Dr. Jesse Williams’ backup. Plan B if things didn’t work out for him in Newport Beach.”

“So you’re Team Brody?”

“I’m Team Maggie, because I value both my testicles and having a happy wife.”

“And that means . . .”

“Isn’t it obvious? Maggie is Team Whoever Makes Sophie Happy. So far, it’s not even close.”

My throat feels thick as I try to find the words to thank him, and I whisper something that I hope passes for gratitude, before Maggie’s voice rings in my ears again.

“Ty-bear’s been so sappy since the pregnancy.”

“You know I hate that name.” Tyler’s voice is clearly farther away than before.

“It’s true.” Maggie’s half shouting toward Tyler, and the effect is a weird, echoing one. “I swear he’s going to bawl through the whole labor and ruin every photo.” She lets out a sigh. “Sorry, just adjusting my really big, very uncomfortable sex injury. And also, I need to take this moment to remind you, you’re coming to the home birth, right?”

I sigh, because I love hospitals, loved the epidural my truly lovely nurses and doctors administered and monitored for me at St. Bernardine. But . . . Maggie’s watched one too many Instagram reels about the joys of at-home birth, and because Tyler’s not just a firefighter but also a trained paramedic, she somehow talked both of us into having an at-home birth, with a doula who’s supposed to drive up to oversee things as she gets closer to being in active labor.