“This family’s gossip phone tree and underhanded planning is legit,” Gracie said sagely.
“And none of this even gets into the bizarre smorgasbord in there either. Be prepared,” Ruby informed us as an aside.
“If being pregnant means craving that weird stuff, count me out,” Gracie said as she turned to follow Ruby.
“Count me out too,” Mak agreed and followed the older girls out of the kitchen.
“Holy crap, Garrett. What should we do?” Her eyes were big with worry as she stared up at me. I had to make this better.
“Nothing. Don’t worry, my mother will drop it if I ask her to. Come on.” I grabbed her hand once again and tugged her behind me to head into the dining room.
The dining room was massive and kind of a sore spot between my parents—not an ugly sore spot, just one that my dad couldn’t stop razzing my mother about. Last year, much to my father’s dismay, my mother spent a huge chunk of money on wood for a new dining room suite with a table so big it should have its own zip code and we were not allowed to utter one word about how all of it was custom made by Everett. Not until my father moved on from the fact that she’d convinced Everett to clear out his study and knock down the wall in order to fit the dang thing inside the house while he was off on a fishing trip with Wyatt and his kids. Bottom line—she remodeled my father’s man cave into an extra-large dining room behind his back and accepted my father’s good-natured zingers about it as her due.
“There they are! The happy couple!” my mother cried as we entered.
I froze. Molly bumped into my back and my eyes shot straight to Everett who was grinning at me from the table. “Told you so,” he mouthed. I couldn’t flip him off because my mother was in the room, so I settled for a weak scowl instead.
Molly’s hand in mine tightened into a death squeeze. I quickly turned around to reassure her and bent to speak softly in her ear. “It’s fine. I’ll explain it to her later and she’ll drop this whole thing. Okay?” She nodded and released my hand with a huge sigh.
My mother, an eternal momma bear to all who needed a mother and always the consummate hostess, passed us glasses of lemonade from a silver tray. “Y’all two sit right here,” she ordered and pointed. I shot her a look, but we sat down anyway. I was next to Sabrina, who promptly burst into tears and threw her arms around my neck. Since her pregnancy, the normally shy Sabrina had changed, at least with the family. Everything made her cry; we were always on the lookout and prepared to give her a hug at a moment’s notice.
“It’s okay,” I whispered and patted her back as Wyatt rushed up to sit on her other side and take over the hug.
“Garrett, your momma made that lemonade because I love it. I love this family . . .” she sobbed into Wyatt’s chest.
“Don’t drink that lemonade, man,” Wyatt warned me. “It is pure sugar.”
“It’s the best lemonade in the entire world,” she countered. “And I love your mother so much,” she cried.
“She loves you too, darlin’,” he whispered in her ear.
“So, did she make this pickle stuff for you too?” Hesitantly, I took what resembled a jalapeno popper with a hollowed-out pickle in place of a jalapeno from one of the many pickle-based hors d’oeuvre trays covering the table—fried pickles, chopped pickle-covered devilled eggs, a huge cheeseball studded with diced pickles…
“Pickle poppers,” Wyatt answered. “Yeah, Sabrina had a craving for party food. And pickles—always pickles.”
“Pickle party food, huh?” I chuckled as I tasted the pickle stuffed with cream cheese and wrapped with bacon. It wasn’t too bad. “So, what about you, Willa. Any of this for you?” Willa was across from us, sitting between Everett and her sisters, sipping the extremely sweet lemonade with a grimace. She was not nearly as far along as Sabrina, but I knew crap-all about pregnant women and when they started craving stuff.
Everett lifted a platter full of fried pickles and offered it to Willa, who shook her head no, then to Molly who daintily grabbed one to pop into her mouth. “Nah, she’s easy so far,” Everett answered for her. “Basically, if it’s a cow and it’s dead, she wants to eat it. Dad’s grilling out back with Barrett. Your brothers are out there too, Molls.”
“I can’t wait.” Willa grinned, then beamed when Everett planted a kiss on her cheek and fed her a potato chip I could only assume was pickle flavored.
“Meat. That’s what I’m talking about.” I held out my fist and Willa bumped it with a smile.
I turned to Molly, sitting there smiling blankly as she looked around the room. Belatedly, I realized she was probably having trouble hearing us. It was crowded in here and sounds blended together for her when there was a lot of noise in a room. Between Wyatt’s kids, Sadie’s two boys, and Abbie running around the house playing, the different conversations happening at the same time, and the music coming from the back yard, it was pretty noisy right now. “You doing okay?” I put my arm over the back of her chair and leaned across to ask in her opposite ear—I had sat on the wrong side for her to hear me. “Trade places with me.” She nodded and stood up. “Sorry, cutie,” I leaned in to whisper once we’d sat down.
She leaned right back into me to hiss in my ear. “That ‘cutie’ is not going to help your case when you talk to your mother, Garrett.”
“Neither is all our whispering right now. Or this,” I patted her shoulder with my hand, to remind her my arm was around her. She shrugged her shoulder and scowled at me. I removed my arm with a laugh.
I looked up to see the four Hill sisters, tall, blond, and gorgeous, all sitting in a row across the table next to Everett, their eyebrows raised as they watched Molly and me. And Ruby, sat at the end, waggling hers with a knowing smirk. “What are y’all looking at?” Molly sniped.
“It’ll be more fun to watch you figure it out,” Clara drawled.
“Okay, y’all, dinner is served. Kids, find a seat. Grandpa is coming in with the food!” my mother hollered as she hurried into the room, then stopped next to Molly. “You’re up next, sweetie! I can’t wait to see what you’re gonna crave!” she said as she passed us to go into the kitchen.
“Ma!” I shouted at her retreating back, shocked at how far she was taking this whole thing.
Abandoning all pretense of keeping things cool between us, Molly yanked me close by the collar of my T-shirt. “What did she say?” she hissed.
I shook my head. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”
Chapter 6
Garrett
Dinner was uneventful except for watching Willa polish off two huge-ass rib-eyes and a couple of cheeseburgers. Thanks to my father’s intervention, my mother had dialed it down on the craving talk and her not-so-subtle hinting around about Molly and me. We had just finished enjoying wedding cake for dessert. That’s right, wedding cake. Willa’s cravings weren’t entirely normal after all, and my mother had ordered a double-tiered wedding cake from the Donner Bakery especially for Willa because apparently regular cake “tasted different.”