Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
As if reading my mind, Dylan tipped her chin up proudly. “Row’s building Mom a whole new house, you know. Four thousand square feet. White picket fence, red roof. It’s almost done. Just off Main Street and Winchester Road.”
“Oh wow,” I breathed out. Row was a total pain in the butt, but no one could deny he loved his family something fierce.
“Yeah.” Dylan’s face clouded. “He is kind of forcing me to live there too, since… Never mind. Anyway, we’re battling it out. I don’t need his charity.”
I had no interest in talking about the person who had made us fall out right now, so I tried to refocus her. “So I brought you a few things.”
“Edible things?” Dylan squinted, rubbing her belly through her yellow satin nightgown.
“Fifty percent of them, yes.”
“Yummy edible things?” Dylan elevated an eyebrow. “Because Mom and Row are making me eat all kinds of healthy shit full of iron and magnesium and whatnot.”
“Dylan, you’re on bed rest!” Zeta materialized from the kitchen like something that needed to be purged, brandishing a kitchen towel as though it were a weapon, clad in a house robe. “You don’t look very restful, and you’re definitely not in bed.”
“Bring your apology offerings upstairs.” Dylan snapped her fingers and tilted her head to the stairway with a flourish. I followed her, my heart in my throat.
On our way up, I asked, “Are you and Tuck still…?”
“Together?”
“Yeah.”
“Guess so.” She offered a little shrug, throwing the door to her room open. Holy crap. Row really did gut this place and redo it. It looked fantastic. All pastel colors, throws, and decorative pillows. The room Dylan had dreamed about when we were teenagers. The room she deserved. “Though I’m not so sure how much of it is Tuck wanting to be with me and how much of it is Tuck not wanting to die at the hands of my cranky brother.”
“Your brother is frightening,” I admitted, looking around in astonishment. “But I don’t know anyone who’d agree to spend the rest of their life with someone they don’t love just because they’re afraid to get punched in the face.”
“You haven’t met Row’s punches. Tucker has, and he is not a fan.”
“Still…this must be exciting for you.” I mustered a smile. I was excited about her having a baby; I was not excited that she was still with Tucker.
“The new construction is supposed to house Tuck, me, and the baby.” Dylan fell to her bed, sighing miserably. “The deed is gonna be in Mom’s name, so Tuck won’t get any greedy ideas after we get married. Guess Row wanted all of us together somewhere pretty and new so he wouldn’t have a guilt trip when he leaves again.”
“You’re getting married?” I whispered.
Dylan nodded miserably. “Tuck popped the question.”
“Aww.”
“…after Row almost popped his knees.”
“Oh. That’s…sweet?” I remained standing, waiting for an invitation to sit down.
If Tuck had two brain cells to rub together, he knew Dylan was eons above his league. Unfortunately, I seriously doubted those two cells were in existence.
“I mean, you’re engaged! Having a baby! Getting a new house!” I threw one hand up excitedly, hoping my fake enthusiasm was contagious. “My only achievement in the last five years is staying alive, and even that was purely accidental.”
“Thing is…I’m not sure I want to share this magnificent new house with him. Or if I want to share anything with him at all. Other than the baby, of course, which I don’t have a choice about. We’ve been together for five years…” Five years. Sweet Jesus. “But he also has a terrible temper, is about as intellectual as an expired bag of trail mix, and we can’t agree on anything other than the indisputable fact that the worst LaCroix flavor is cherry blossom.” Heavy silence fell between us before she added, “Plus, what if I don’t want to live in a big, fancy house in Staindrop? What if I want to live in a small, cool apartment in Boston? Or go back to being a PA in Greenwich?” I didn’t even know that had happened. “I feel like all my decisions were made for me the minute I got pregnant. People who are trying to take care of me are actually suffocating me.”
She was making a snow angel over her unmade bed, staring at the ceiling hollowly.
“Is Tucker really that bad?” I whispered.
“Dude, the worst. He has no sense of humor either. Before he went off lobster hunting, we attended a twenty-four-week ultrasound checkup, and when we were in an elevator full of people on our way to the sonographer, I asked him very loudly, ‘So when are you going to tell your wife about us?’ and you know what he did?”
I pressed my lips together, stifling a laugh. Dylan was so fantastically herself, it sometimes took my breath away. “Peed his pants cackling, as he should?”