I giggled to myself as I removed the lid from one of the paint cans.
“You’re not supposed to get high off of paint fumes before you start painting,” Gracie deadpanned. “Or are you just high on love?”
“Neither.” I tried to regain my composure. She’d hit the nail on the head, but if I stood with my head in the clouds all day, nothing would get done. And right now I had two more or less willing volunteers and I needed to take advantage of that.
I went into drill sergeant mode, instructing and pointing to emphasize my idea. It was something I wasn’t used to, working in tandem with others. I’d done the majority of my work in solitude, never needing to spell out what I saw in my head. Never needing to explain to someone else why I was doing what I did. Sure, Matthew had helped me decorate Lauren’s office at the bank, but he was the exception to the rule. If anyone trusted me completely and understood me without words, it was him. And I hadn’t been able to paint in there. Moving furniture in and hanging pictures was a completely different art form.
The three of us laughed, teased and joked around as we painted. Time flew by and much sooner than I’d planned, it was complete. Though to an untrained eye it still resembled an elementary school project, I knew that once the paint dried and the tape was removed, it would be perfect. I assured their rather unimpressed faces that once we got back to the house that they would see the difference, too. Now it was time for the second part of the transformation.
I’d found the most precious baby furniture a few months prior, when I was actually working on planning the wedding. At that time, I’d taken the liberty of placing it on hold, not bothering to ask for either of the parents’ input. Being a special order, I’d gladly forked over the payment to get it here, but instructed the saleswoman that it couldn’t be sent to the house upon arrival; it had to be kept there until I was ready for it. With my connections in the design world, the furniture store had been happy to oblige. I knew for a fact that it was waiting for us in their storeroom, ready for its final destination. A quick call yesterday after Sadie’s birth had set my plan into motion - it would be delivered in mere hours.
The prearranged delivery time left us ample opportunity to make a trip to yet another retailer, where I’d already chosen bedding and decorations for both genders. There, I’d reserved an entire room’s worth of stuff for both boy and girl. I liked to think I was being proactive and not the zany aunt that Gracie would make me out to be. With wanting the room to be a total surprise, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to debate form and function after the baby’s birth; there just wouldn’t have been time. So I’d done double the work, plotting for a niece or a nephew to save myself a touch of sanity in the end.
With nothing more to do at the store besides pick up my order and go, we had plenty of time to break for lunch before the furniture was slated to come. We settled on the Italian restaurant that we’d frequented when wedding dress shopping. Even if it wasn’t fast food fare, it was casual enough that we wouldn’t look out of place in our painting clothes - not that we had made much of a mess of ourselves. I knew Gracie wouldn’t argue with my selection since she’d seemed to enjoy it when we’d been here before and Chris had chosen to play well with others. Italian wasn’t his favorite - or so I recalled - but he was bowing to my wishes. Perhaps the glow of love had descended upon him as well.
The hostess led us to a booth. I slid in one side, letting the other two vie for position. Chris took the initiative and sat with me, leaving Gracie alone on the bench across from us. She plopped her large purse beside her, smiling at us.
“What?” I asked.
Her grin grew larger. “I’ll admit that I was having a hard time imagining you two ever being hot and heavy with each other. Mainly since Chris is usually such an idiot.”
The subject in question grunted from behind his menu.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “you’re nowhere near Eric proportions.”
I swallowed, wondering what was going to come out of her mouth next. Either she was going to dig herself deeper, or she was going to somehow climb her way out of the hole she’d opened up. Whichever the case, this would be amusing.
“But now that the truth has been revealed, I realize that your douchebagginess is the result of bitterness and resentment. Of being kept in the dark and not really knowing what went wrong. And you,” she said, turning the spotlight towards me, “your role of gloomy and doomy is the product of years of mourning the unspeakable. All it took to make things right in the world was a conversation and a good screw.”
The waitress, who had been en route to take our orders, walked up at exactly the wrong time. Upon hearing Gracie’s blunt hypothesis on the state of my relationship, she spun on her heel and disappeared, pretending she had intended to check in with another table. I made a mental note to leave her a sizable tip. The other two hadn’t noticed; Chris had buried his face in the menu by now and Gracie was beaming at me with pride.
“Well, it was good, wasn’t it?” she prodded.
“Do you give Lauren the same third degree?” I retorted.
She shrugged. “I used to. But then it just became boring. And once she embarked on pregnant sex, I wanted to hurl.”
“Good to know you have your boundaries,” Chris muttered.
“Hey, I have to live vicariously through someone. I choose you two now.”
“I suppose we should be flattered by this?” I really wasn’t certain.
“Of course. But it’s not like we’re together all of the time, what with me living in Indy. So I’ll just have to get my fill of you when I journey up north to visit.”
“We’ll make sure to mark our calendars,” Chris deadpanned.
I could see the twinkle in his eye as he pretended to be annoyed. He was feeding into her act, enjoying the teasing and the inappropriate comments. I relaxed slightly, wondering if I should clue him in as to what I was thinking about suggesting to her. Maybe he could help sway Lauren’s opinion on things and her time here would be spent on a permanent basis. It shocked me to think how much I wanted that to be true. Me, who didn’t need anyone and hadn’t in as long as I could remember, was secretly hoping that I could introduce a new friend in the mix. To go along with the recently reacquired boyfriend, I supposed.
The waitress came back at a less awkward moment and we ordered and ate lunch amid easily flowing conversation. I picked up the check, not forgetting to leave a large tip in a form of apology.
Then we were headed back to Matthew and Lauren’s, my truck full of baby stuff and my head about to explode with happiness. The sun shone brightly through the windshield and I wrapped my arms around myself, drawing the warmth into my body.
Chris reached over from the driver’s seat and placed his hand on my thigh as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I stared at his fingers for a moment, then placed my own hand over them, squeezing tightly. My response made him smile and made Gracie halt her idle chatter from the backseat.
“Do I need to leave you two alone?” she laughed.
My cheeks turned red. “No, we’re fine.”
“Awwwww. I think the two of you are cute. You rival Matthew and Lauren.”
“No,” Chris said, “they rival us. We are the originals.”
“We’ve loved each other for what, twenty years now?” I asked.
“Sounds about right. They have a ways to go. And they’ll never catch up.” Chris confirmed.
“That just makes you two sound old. I’d never admit to doing something for twenty years.”
“One day you will, sweetie.”
“Christ, I hope it’s not being a bank teller.”
Gracie stared wistfully into space. I wondered what she was thinking about. From her offhanded comments and the limited backstory I’d been privy to, I knew she’d never had anything that could be deemed a relationship. I never saw it bother her; as she admitted, she lived vicariously through Lauren’s romantic turmoil and eventual happiness. She was plenty
flirty and approachable - the DJ incident at the wedding proved that. But nothing ever stuck for her and I couldn’t put my finger on why. Because she didn’t want it to, or because she wouldn’t let it?
Once we were back at my brother’s place, I had no time for reflection. The paint on Sadie’s walls was dry enough that we could remove the mass of painter’s tape that crossed them and reveal my masterpiece. Even as I peeled and disposed of the stuff, the familiar feeling of doubt entered my stomach that things wouldn’t work out according to plan. It happened every time I was ready to unveil something, without fail. I imagined that the day the uncomfortableness disappeared was the day that I should give up interior design, because it meant that I was no longer taking risks.
With the last length of tape pulled away, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“What are you doing?” Gracie asked. “Don’t you like it? I think it’s awesome.”
“I haven’t looked yet,” I admitted.
“You looked the whole time we were were pulling tape,” she argued.
“But I haven’t seen it.”
“The artist in her speaks,” Chris allowed. “Don’t get her started or she’ll get all technical on us.”
“Shut up.” My eyes still closed, I swung at the sound of his voice, making contact with nothing. They both laughed, and my eyes popped open.
Before me were the bones of a spread ripped from the pages of a decorating magazine. My plotting had worked to perfection, creating just the look I wanted. With nothing more than three colors of paint: white, pink and a deep rose tint, I’d created a checkerboard-like effect. The expanse of the room was such that it didn’t overpower the space - I had to admit that Matthew had been right in his initial love of this place. Though I had grumbled repeatedly about the laundry list of things that were wrong with it when he bought it, he had seen the true potential for it to be a home.
“Well, it certainly doesn’t look like my old room anymore,” I said.
“That’s not such a bad thing,” Chris mused. “We’ve all moved on from those days.”
“Yeah. And I think Matthew’s finally convinced that I’ll make it on my own now and I won’t come crawling back here. I guess if I do now, I’ll have a tiny roommate.”
“You were never completely on your own, Blake,” Chris said quietly. “Not even when you thought you were.”
I nodded, knowing that he was right. The tears that blurred my vision confirmed it. I’d known all along that I would have had his support, no matter what. But my own pride, my own fear, had kept me from asking for it. He’d done what he could to offer it silently, in as unobtrusive of a way as he could, but I’d chosen to ignore it. I’d driven the wedge between us. He’d allowed it to happen, not knowing what was really going on under the surface. He’d been too trusting, too scared to press me for the truth. Too easily convinced of the mock hatred that I’d displayed to question it. We’d both made our own mistakes.
“Never again,” I promised.
“Never.” He smiled, reaching out for me.
The doorbell rang and Gracie excused herself to go answer it. With a couple of seconds to ourselves, we snuck in a kiss.
“I’ve always loved you and I always will.” I whispered upon pulling away.
“Same here.”
His gaze focused somewhere past me, through the doorway as he tried to estimate the arrival of the furniture and our new biggest fan. Deciding to chance it, he leaned in for another kiss, which I eagerly returned. We parted just as we heard voices down the hall. Bless her, Gracie was speaking loudly enough that we could clearly hear her, giving us warning of incoming guests. I took a second to compose myself, smoothing down my shirt and stepping away from Chris so that a respectable distance was between us.
“And it’s all yours, boss,” she announced as she led them into the room. It took me a moment to realize that I was being addressed. She motioned with her head that she meant for me to take the baton.
I jumped to attention, putting on my designer hat and instructing them where to put what. Since I didn’t want things pushed up against the wall for the near future, we placed things as close to their final position as possible, leaving a couple feet of clearance from the wet paint.
Within about an hour, we nearly had a fully assembled nursery. Once the walls had dried, Chris and I could come back and push the cradle, the dresser and the changing table into their proper positions. I imagined that we could manage, or maybe we could enlist Will’s help so that Matthew wouldn’t see anything until it was completely finished. I even made the bed with the pink linens I’d purchased. Of course they matched the cushion for the rocking chair that would grace the corner by the window. The only thing I didn’t touch were the curtains, which I draped over the edge of the cradle so that they would be ready to be hung at a moment’s notice.
“We do good work,” Gracie said, crossing her arms over her chest as she surveyed the almost finished room.
“You’re getting better,” I allowed with a smirk. “It’s a marked improvement over Lauren’s house.”
“Hey,” Gracie came up for air, “you had no part of that. And there I took orders from someone who isn’t a professional.”
“Obviously.”
We laughed, leaving Chris to shake his head at us.
“Time to head out,” he reminded us, “before Doug leaves Gracie up here and we have to take her back home.”
“That would be a shame,” I joked.
“It would be,” Gracie advised, “because you can barely keep your hands off of each other for ten whole minutes. I can only imagine how painful a two hour drive one way would be for you guys.”
“Whatever,” Chris and I said in unison.
I took a look at our handiwork one last time, admiring the ease at which the three of us had been able to complete my vision. Of course it was now easy to forget that I’d been planning the whole thing practically since Lauren had announced her pregnancy. With that much lead time, anything less than perfection would have been disappointing. And perfection was what my niece deserved. I vowed I would do my best to deliver it to her.
After all, there were so many things in life that couldn’t be controlled. I was a testament to that, but I was working on doing what I could to fix it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Sadie Layne Snyder was born at two thirty-eight in the afternoon on November fourth,” Chris read aloud from the newspaper in front of him. “Parents are Matthew Snyder and Lauren Jefferies-Snyder. Grandparents are Doug Jefferies and the late Abigail Warner-Jefferies. Aunt is Blake Snyder.”
I stared at him from across Matthew’s concrete countertop, waiting for his reaction.
“Getting one last stab in there with the birth announcement, aren’t we?” he smiled.
I shrugged. “I don’t even know if my parents would read it. But I wanted there to be no doubt that baby was their bloodline, through and through. And that they’ll never be a part of her life.”
“Way to put in the dead maternal grandmother for good measure.”
“Too much? Do you think Matthew will be mad?”
“He’ll forgive and forget. You can do no wrong in his eyes.”
“It took some convincing to even get him to agree to putting that in the paper. Remember, they didn’t announce their engagement or their wedding publicly. He was hesitant to let me write up the birth announcement and get it published, until I reminded him that it would look great in the scrapbook I’m putting together for her.”
“You and your scrapbooks. You just don’t look the type.” He shook his head at me.
“What can I say? I’m a mystery wrapped in an enigma.”
“And it’s equally as impressive that you got this published so quickly. That’s unreal that it hit the paper on the day that they’re coming home from the hospital.”
“I know people in high places.”
“Have you slept with the newspaper dude like you did with the hotel guy?”
/> My face blanched, then turned about twelve shades of red. Had it been that obvious about me and Mike? True, Gracie had picked up on the vibes he’d thrown around at the rehearsal and the wedding ceremony, but I thought that had been due to her radar sharp instincts. Though if it had been that clear to someone I barely knew, why wouldn’t it be crystalline to the only man I’d ever loved?
Chris stared at me, eagerly anticipating my answer. Lucky for me, I could tell from his demeanor that he wasn’t that upset.
“Jealous, are we?” I teased, opting to joke around about it. “First of all, the newspaper contact is a lady. Secondly, Mike was a long time ago. It was a weak moment.”
“Mike?”
“Also known as hotel guy. Did you not expect him to have a name?”
“I’d prefer if he didn’t. Or if you couldn’t remember it. But it was obvious he remembered you. Certain parts better than others.”
“Oh hush. You can’t tell me you didn’t remember the same parts.”
“Fine.”
I raised my finger to my lips to silence what he was going to say next. My ears were trained to the sound of the garage door raising and lowering seconds later.
“They’re home,” I announced, “and I’d appreciate it if we weren’t talking about how easy I used to be when they came inside.”
“Why not? It’s not like Sadie will remember it.”
“Just be good,” I huffed, “and don’t ruin this.”
“Don’t ruin this!” Chris mocked in a shrill voice, rolling his eyes as he did so. I glared at him as the doorknob turned. He quickly replaced his countenance with what looked remarkably like a genuine smile.
“Hey, guys,” Lauren said quietly as she appeared in the kitchen.
“Hey, yourself. Welcome home.”
I crossed the space between us to give her a hug. As Matthew approached the doorway, loaded down with the detachable carrier portion of a car seat that no doubt held the newest addition to the family, I scooted us over to allow him to pass. My brother set Sadie down on the floor next to the island, staring at her like he wasn’t sure what to do next. She was sleeping soundly and didn’t notice. He turned around and went back out into the garage to unload the trunk, returning with the overnight bag that Lauren had packed what seemed like ages ago.
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