“Right back at ya, girl.”
She smiled.
We spend the next five or six hours happily transforming Marcus’s sterile guestroom into a b
right and undeniably adorable nursery. I’d picked out a woodland creatures sort of theme, and the three of us decorated and accessorized to our hearts’ content. Barry was in the middle of the floor trying to piece together a crib when there was a commotion from downstairs. We paused long enough to hear a booming laugh, and the next second, Max pushed open the door.
“You’re here!” I ran over and jumped into a huge hug, forgetting the fact that I was covered in smudges of canary yellow.
He glanced down at his clothes sadly and shook his head. “You know, I don’t care if you do get married and become a mom all in one year—you’re always going to be an insufferable little dork to me.”
I laughed and led him by the hand into the middle of the room. “Max, you remember Barry?”
“Of course.” He smiled and shook his hand. “So…woodland creatures, huh?” He nodded to Amanda. “I got your text.” Without another word, he stripped off his shoes and jacket and approached the far wall like a matador walking out into the arena. “Stand back,” he murmured, surveying his target. Then he held out his hand. “I’m going to need paint, six brushes of varying size…and whiskey.”
* * *
“Oh my gosh, Max…it’s beautiful!”
It what seemed like an impossibly short amount of time, Max had covered an entire wall of the bedroom in a breathtaking forest mural. Waterfalls, magical creatures, swirling vibrant colors…it was a wonderland. Max was an amazing painter. It was so special that my baby’s Uncle Max had designed this amazing room.
“That’s right where the crib’s going to go,” I whispered, my eyes welling up with tears.
Max caught me in a one-armed hug. “Don’t go getting all weepy and hormonal on me. It was the least I could do for my little niece…or nephew.” He gave me a twinkling, inquisitive look. “You know already, don’t you?”
I paused.
“Oh my gosh—you do know!” Amanda declared. “I knew it! Spill!”
“Absolutely not.” I shook my head with a grin. “As much as I love this ‘raised by a village’ idea, there are certain things that the father has to know first.”
“I’m your brother. Tell me.” When I zipped shut my lips, he poked me in the ribs. “Fine, just tell me this: is it a girl?
“Are you serious?”
“It’s my only question!”
I giggled, tossing down my paintbrush. “You guys are ridiculous. You’ll know soon enough. Now let’s get downstairs and get the barbecue going…I’m starving!”
“Fine…” Max pouted. “But only since you’re eating for both you and my…nephew?”
“Soon enough!” I reminded, shoving him out into the hall.
They started clambering down the stairs, but before I turned off the light and shut the door, I cast one more look inside. It was quiet now. Peaceful, yet exciting. Like it knew what was on its way. I placed a hand on my stomach and flicked off the light with a smile. Soon enough…
The barbecue was already in full swing when I got down there a minute later. Mom and Grandma were cutting up onions. Barry was flipping burgers and hot dogs over the grill, and Amanda and Max were dangling their legs in the pool—splitting a bottle of wine. I rolled my eyes. You know those supportive friends who refuse to drink anything if you can’t drink it yourself? Yeah—I didn’t have those.
I checked my phone for the hundredth time that day, but still no word from Marcus. I didn’t know whether that was a bad thing or not.
“Becca! Got a hot dog here with your name on it!”
I tried to put it firmly from my mind and joined the rest of the party. Marcus was right. After all these months of worrying and planning—one way or another—we would know tonight.
The barbecue carried on late into the night. We ate, swam, selectively drank, and even got the fire pit started after Amanda brought out ingredients for s’mores. It was the perfect way to relax in a normal environment after the craziness that was happening beyond the gates. There was no exaggerating it—the entire world was obsessed with our impending nuptials. We’d received gifts and well-wishes from dignitaries and foreign leaders. We’d even had the request for just one news helicopter—a request that Marcus had shot down with vehemence. It was the fiasco I’d always feared it would be. But sitting here—with the people I loved the most—it was easy to forget all those things and focus on what really mattered.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married in four days,” Max declared, throwing back his head and gazing up at the stars. We were settled in a loose circle—with three out of the four of us either cheerfully drunk or quickly getting there.
“I know,” I murmured, following his gaze, “it’s coming up so fast.”