12
mckenzie
I winceas Austin’s truck shudders over a pothole.
“That one was unavoidable,” he says.
I glance into the backseat where I’ve cobbled together a car seat of sorts out of a laundry basket and a pool noodle, all to protect two beautiful triple-berry pies.
“Just try not to make any sudden stops.” I actually baked six pies between yesterday afternoon and this morning, before I finally produced two I felt confident bringing to Hollywood’s shower. The rejects, though imperfect, still made for good snacking, as Austin can attest; he ate half of one for breakfast this morning.
I smooth the wrinkles out of my yellow sundress, wishing I could calm my nerves just as easily. Hollywood and I haven’t seen each other in over a month, making this the longest stretch of time we’ve ever been apart.
Austin pats my thigh just above the knee. “We don’t have to stay any longer than you want to.”
“I know.” I reach behind the driver’s seat to finger the white bow on Hollywood’s present. “I hope she likes what we got her.”
I couldn’t decide between the portable changing pad and the set of swaddling blankets patterned in cartoon forest animals, so I got both, plus some colorful fleece baby booties.
“She’ll love it,” he says.
The knot in my stomach tightens as we pull up in front of Jonah and Teagan’s house. Pink and yellow balloons float on the breeze, tethered to the lamppost at the end of the driveway.
Austin grabs the present while I carefully lift the laundry basket containing the pies. Teagan’s already waiting for us at the door when we arrive.
“You came!” she beams, opening the storm door for us. Her make-up is flawless, and her honey-blonde pigtails have obviously seen a curling iron.
Hollywood must’ve been very anxious this morning.
“I was nevernotcoming,” I mutter.
Austin hems, flashing me a stern-daddy look. Okay, fine, that sounded bratty even to my ears. Teagan’s put a lot of time and effort into this baby shower. I can at least try to be a gracious guest.
“Sorry we’re late,” I say.
“You’re fine. We’re just hanging out.” She offers to take the laundry basket from me, and I hand it over. “Oh my God, these look delicious.”
My face warms. “Thanks.”
“Wait, did you bake these yourself?”
“She did,” Austin says with pride. My cheeks burn.
“That’s so impressive,” Teagan says. “I cannot wait to try a slice. Presents go in the dining room, food and drinks are in the kitchen, and I’ve parked Holly in the family room with the kiddos.”
“You sure that was a good idea?” I ask. “She might start regretting her life choices.”
Teagan chuckles. “I prefer to think of it as practice.”
I look toward the hall at the unmistakable thump-thump-thump of frenzied toddler feet.
“Uncle Aussie!!” Joey yells.
“Uh oh,” Austin says, setting the present on the floor. “Here comes trouble.”
He hooks Joey under the arms and swings him around in a circle. Watching Austin play with Joey triggers a warm, gooey feeling in my chest that catches me off guard.
“Wow,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I see who’s the favorite around here.”