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Her unamused expression is identical to the one her dad gives me sometimes. “Fine.”
Before I can ask her more, she puts the lid on her water bottle and walks out of the kitchen. Loud stomping up the stairs follows soon after, and I raise an eyebrow at Emmett.
He shakes his head in exasperation. “She’s pissed because I told her she couldn’t hang out with the women tonight. It didn’t seem to matter that all the kids were coming here. Apparently, and I quote, ‘I’m not a baby anymore, Dad. I should get to go with the adults.’”
I make a sympathetic noise. “Poor girl. It’s probably hard to be the oldest of the group.” At almost eleven, she’s skirting the edge of being too old to have fun playing with the littles anymore. “She’ll come around when Lauren gets here.”
“I have a feeling it has to do with not getting to see Gwen,” he muses.
“Oh, really? Why?”
“Any time Gwen is around, she gives Emma her full attention. Emma says they talk about everything together. Whatever that means.”
“Have you figured out why Gwen is avoiding you?”
Emmett shakes his head. “Still have no clue.”
“I asked Kylie, but she didn’t know either.” It’s been weeks since we talked about it though, so there’s a good chance she’s asked by now and just didn’t want to share what she learned.
Emmett has the same thought. “I’m sure if Gwen’s told her anything, Kylie will keep her confidence.”
Before I can say anything more, a stampede of kids comes racing into the kitchen. Holt’s girls, Lauren and Leah, as well as Knox’s son, Finn, screech to a stop next to Emmett.
“Uncle Emmett! Did you get those juice things again?” Leah asks, bouncing up and down.
“Of course I did.” He nods toward the fridge. “In the bottom drawer. Straws are on the kitchen table.”
Finn and Leah bound over to open the refrigerator, squealing in delight when they find the pile of juice boxes the kids love. Other than the fact that they’re in fun-shaped containers, there’s nothing different about the juice than what comes in a big jug.
The commotion brings Emma down from her sulking, and I smile at the way she and Lauren immediately have their heads bent together, sharing secrets and plans.
Holt and Knox place their food contributions next to mine on the table. It suddenly becomes a madhouse of us dads making plates for the kids before they scurry off to the living room to watch a movie.
I set beers in front of my grateful friends before sitting next to Holt at the table.
“Did you pick up Gwen and Willa on your way to drop off Gia?” Emmett asks Holt.
He nods. “Gia made it clear that I’ll need to be prepared to pick up three drunk women at the end of the night.”
Knox snorts. “Farrah said something similar.”
Smiling, I sip my beer. “Kylie made a giant pitcher of sangria this morning, and every time she opened the fridge, she sighed.”
“Her due date is in February?” Emmett asks.
I nod. “We’ll get through the holidays, and then we can focus on the baby.”
“Hannah went five days past her due date with Lauren,” Holt says of his late wife.
“Honestly, I’d be fine if Peanut decided to stay in there a little while longer. I’m not sure either of us would be able to handle an early arrival.” The idea makes my stomach cramp. Kylie’s been through enough stress as it is. The last thing we need is Peanut to show up too soon.
“Gia’s been wondering if you have a design picked out for the nursery. She wants to draw some prints for Kylie but needs a theme to go off of.”
I run my hand through my hair as the corners of my mouth turn down. “She hasn’t made any decisions yet. She put so much work into Peanut’s nursery in Seattle that I think she’s struggling with what to do for a new one here.”
“You’ve got plenty of time,” Knox assures me.
The conversation shifts to Emmett’s bees and how production has been going for his business. It’s all online for now, but he’s been contemplating opening a store in town. Real estate isn’t easy to come by on the main square, but it sounds like he’ll be ready the minute a space becomes available.
