"The others are coming later," Nana said, brushing Nash away and tugging me forward into the kitchen. "First, we're going to make a loaf of sourdough, and after, I will send you home with your own starter. It's a tradition in my family. My grandmother passed her starter down to my mother that I will pass down to you. You aren't women, and I'm not pretending you are, but the tradition is meant to pass down to the child bearers."
"We are sure Nana isn't to blame for us all getting pregnant, aren't we?" Riley asked in a hushed tone.
I couldn't say with confidence that she wasn't.
Nana looked up, as if noticing Nash for the first time. "Get out of here. This isn't your party."
Nash grabbed his chest. "You wound me, Great-Grandmother. Besides, Phin doesn't bake. You send that home with him, and it will end up growing and becoming self-aware in the back of our fridge."
He wasn't wrong, but I wouldn't have dreamed of saying as much in front of Nana. It sounded like a sweet tradition that she hadn't had many chances to celebrate lately.
"That's not the important part," Nana said, pushing Nash out of the kitchen, while passing him something that looked suspiciously like cookies wrapped in a napkin. "Traditions aren't good because they're kept. They're good because they give us a chance to reflect. Throw it out when you get home. And when one of you pops out another, we'll make it again." She seemed pleased as punch at the idea—who was I to murder her joy?
Nash hopped around his nana and kissed me goodbye, saying he'd be back to get us in a few hours. "Cut loose if you want. I'll be the designated driver," he joked before Nana shut the door behind him.
Nana didn't end up needing much help with the bread, but I'd expected that. In the times we'd spent together, she tended to ask for help, but what she really wanted was for you to stand there while she did all the work and chatted. But Nash hadn't been wrong. I wasn't a big baker, and actually, the feel of flour under my fingernails was one of those sensations that set my teeth on edge. So I was fine with watching while Riley seemed fine with passing his baby off to Mrs. Boxer while he thumbed through a cookbook with a lot of scribbles in it.
We left the dough to rise in a covered bowl on the oven. The moment Nana finished, there was a knock on the door, and I didn't doubt that she'd planned that out. "That'll be the rest of the guests."
I didn't know who else could be coming except Paul, but when she opened the door, Tanya yanked herself from her mother's arms and ran for me. I held out my arms and winced, unsure of how to catch her with my huge belly, but Riley stepped in, lifting and spinning her before setting her back down.
"Uncle Phin is pregnant now. We must be gentle," Riley told her. She peeked around him, peering up at me.
"You got big."
I laughed. "Yes, I did. Thank you for coming to my party."
She beamed as her mom caught up. "Thank you for the invitation. We couldn't have joined a nicer pack. Every day, you all welcome us more and more." She blinked, and tears fell down her cheeks. She wiped them away so quickly I didn't think she'd meant to cry, and I patted her shoulder. "I'm sorry, this is your day. Congratulations, really. I've never witnessed a blessed birth."
I winced, but at least Nash wasn't here to hear her. He loathed that term because of how other it made us seem. Anything that made us stick out, to him, only put us in more danger. "Thank you. We made bread. I don't think it will be done for hours longer, though." I shrugged.
Nana was still welcoming people in. There was Denise's mother, who made a beeline for Mrs. Baxter and claimed she was next to hold the baby. Paul was there. I'd made sure to let him know that he was still one of my very good friends, despite what had happened between him and Nash. There were a few more from the pack that I recognized by face alone and then a woman whose face I'd never forget.
Her face was sharp. Neither of her kids had inherited the intense angles of her face, save for her jawline. But her hair was as dark as theirs. She kept it short, barely kissing her shoulders, and her bangs were cut in a blunt line across her forehead. Julie Walker. If I hadn't known already she was Nash and Wyatt's mother, the green eyes would've given it away.
Riley spotted my face and looked back at the door, letting out a sharp sound. "Uh-oh," he whispered loud enough for only me to hear.
I became a deer in the headlights. Unsure of the right move. We were with Nana, and she didn't look at all surprised to see Julie, which made me think she'd been invited. But none of the Walker cousins would be happy to hear she was here. If Branson found out, he'd probably drive right down and carry Riley out—kicking and screaming if he had to.
Julie waved, the gesture as timid as her expression. "Thank you for inviting me," she said, looking at no one person in particular. "I was so excited to hear I would have a grandson."
I covered my stomach as if blocking her from my unborn. This woman was technically my child's grandmother, though. Was it right to keep her out of his or her life now? Nash would say yes. I wasn't so sure. I'd spent too many nights wishing my parents would come back or I'd find a set of grandparents who would spoil and love me. How could I take that chance away from my child?
She sat down in the chair across from the couch and folded her hands in her lap, tucking her legs under her.
"Okay." Nana clapped. "We're all here. Let's start the games!"
I loved games, but Nana hadn't mentioned games before. Were we going to guess what types of candy bars had been melted in diapers? I'd heard of that game before. It sounded disgusting. Other games I'd heard of involved touching or pinning things to the pregnant person. I really didn't want to do any of that.
I should've trusted Nana more.
She pulled out a tray of empty planters, a bucket of dirt, and bags of seeds without labels. She didn't seem to mind that we'd be doing this activity that required dirt in her living room. "I don't know what the seeds are—forgot to label 'em—but the flowers will be pretty all the same. Come on down. Don't be shy."
I wasn't shy, not in this home, but I did need help getting on the ground. And once I was down there, I was pretty sure Nash would have to help me get back up. The others gathered around. Tanya sat so close her crossed legs bumped into mine. "Didn't you say this is a game?" I asked, reaching for a planter. "How do we play?"
"You play by watching your flower grow," Nana said as if the answer were simple.
Riley, Paul, and I shared a grin. My gaze flitted over to Julie, and I found she was smiling as well, but stopped when our eyes met.
"Don't be shy now, dig in. After, I'll check the bread, and we can start knitting socks."
"I think she brought us here for free labor," Paul joked under his breath a few minutes later.
"I heard that," Nana barked, coming in with a tray of lemonade. "Don't worry about the dirt. I never do."
Where flour under my fingers set my teeth on edge, dirt in the same place made me smile. I worked happily, scooping dirt into my planter until it was a little more than an inch full. I reached for a pack of seeds and sprinkled some over the dirt, covering them gently.