“Are you okay?” Rose moves into my side, her worried eyes checking every inch of me. “You’ve been gone so long.” She follows James’s path across the kitchen to Danny and Brad.
“I’m absolutely fine,” I tell her.
“He didn’t seem happy.”
I look across to James, just as he looks across to me. Checking on me. “We talked.” I smile at him before giving it to Rose. “It was needed.”
She exhales, evidently relieved. She was worried. She doesn’t need to know that it wasn’t wasted. “I’m glad.”
“Yeah, me too. But enough of that,” I say, chinking my wine with her water. “I didn’t miss it, did I?”
“No, I told Danny to wait for you.” Rose suddenly looks a little awkward. “Can you act surprised? I don’t want Esther or Daniel to know you knew before them.”
“Of course. How does this work?” I gasp, my mouth falling open, and Rose laughs.
“Let’s hope they’re not looking at you when they find out.”
“That bad?”
“Terrible.” She searches the kitchen, and I watch as Danny gets her attention, showing the ceiling his palms. She shrugs in return, prompting him to make his way over. “He’s still on the PlayStation with Tank.” Her nose scrunches. “It’s important, apparently.”
Danny rolls his eyes and traipses to the kitchen door. “Hey, kid,” he yells, and I hear Daniel call back from the TV room. “Not in a minute,” Danny yells. “Now, or your jet ski will be sold to the lowest bidder.”
Shaking her head, Rose turns her attention back to me. “Sounds scary, doesn’t he?” She laughs under her breath. “If only Daniel knew.” Watching with an eagle eye as I sip more wine, she pouts. “I bet that tastes amazing.”
“Delicious,” I confirm, making her nose wrinkle. “Don’t worry. Only another six months before you can enjoy a glass again.” I swig more back as she throws me a playful, dirty look before being collected by Danny and taken to the other side of the kitchen.
He doesn’t tap a glass. He smashes his fist down on the counter, making everyone in the room jump and look his way. “I need you all to shut the fuck up for a second,” he declares, as Daniel races into the kitchen, Tank jogging along behind him. “It’s too late, kid. I sold it.”
Rose nudges him in the side and Daniel snorts his disgust, swiveling and making a sharp exit. “Then I’m going.”
“Get on a chair before I put you on one,” Danny says, his tone deadly. “Now.”
Wisely, Daniel backtracks and slumps moodily onto a chair, his bottom lip pushed out as Esther pacifies him with a can of soda and a ruffle of his hair that he tries and fails to shrug off.
“I have something to share,” Danny says, earning another nudge from Rose. “We. We have something to share.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Brad says, his eyes narrowing on Danny. “What the fuck’s going on?”
Esther gasps, stands, and puts her hands over her mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re . . .” But she can’t finish, and I feel James move in behind me, pushing his front into my back and slipping his arm around me, clenching my hand. I lean back into him and link our fingers, squeezing.
“You’re what?” Brad asks, stepping forward, his eyes jumping between Danny and Rose, his suited form tensing. “What’s going on?”
“Having a baby,” Danny declares, a dirty smirk on his face, deepening his scar. He’s enjoying this, and not only because it’s happy news. Brad looks like he’s turned to ice, still and unmoving. Frozen.
“What?” he whispers.
“Mom’s pregnant,” Daniel declares, looking at Brad like he’s stupid. “Do you need me to explain how?”
“Oh my God!” Esther screeches, diving across the kitchen and seizing Rose.
I bite my lip, feeling eyes on me, and when I check, I find Zinnea, Otto, and Goldie all looking this way, pensive. I smile at them, and it’s real, before I get up, leaving James behind, and go to my friend, hugging the shit out of her while Esther moves her excitement onto her son. “Oh my God,” I gasp in her ear, smiling when she laughs.
I kiss her hair, give her that little bit more of a squeeze, and break away, letting everyone else in the room at her.
I catch Danny’s eye over his mom’s shoulder, and I smile before I go back to James, who’s taken my stool, settling between his thighs and resting back against him, taking in the scene. The happiness. And truly, I feel it for them too.
Amused, I watch as Daniel worms his way through the crowd and finds his mom. He jumps up and kisses her. “Can I go back to the TV room now?”
“No, you can go to bed. It’s late.”
“Ah, man!” he whines. “Just one more game. I need to beat him.”
“Fine, one more.” She looks at Tank, who nods, following Daniel’s fleeing form from the kitchen.
“Pregnant?” Brad murmurs, still frozen in position, his beer held in his limp hand. “How the fuck did that happen?”
“Let’s draw Brad a diagram,” Goldie declares, making Ringo chuckle. “Get me some paper.”
“Do you need me?” Fury asks, appearing next to us.
My glass pauses at my lips. The big giant Viking wants to join his brother and Daniel.
“It’s a twin thing.” He shrugs his massive shoulders, looking awkward.
“Go,” James says from behind me.
“I feel like singing,” Zinnea declares. “Yes.” She’s up fast, climbing up the stool onto the island, her platform heels looking less that supportive, her glass of wine splashing everywhere as she juggles holding it and herself up.
“Be careful,” I call, wincing when she slips a little on a wet patch. “Oh Jesus.” How much wine has she had?
“Everyone,” she declares, throwing her arms up in the air, commanding the room’s attention. My smile is very real. Here she is, the illustrious Zinnea Dolly Daydream. “I’m going to sing a little song for you.” Esther whoops, and Goldie, oh my days, starts cheering. “For the special couple,” she adds, holding an invisible microphone to her mouth. “On the eve of their special day. May there be happiness, love and—”
“No murder,” Rose yells, pinning Danny in his place when he looks at her with a dark smile.
The whole room falls apart, including me. It’s madness. Complete madness.
“And definitely no murder,” Zinnea says on a disbelieving shake of her head before coughing her throat clear and taking another sip of her wine. Courage. There’s courage in that glass. I’m willing her to take all the wine she needs, because it’s been a long time since she’s done this, and her audience is very new.
She bursts into a unique rendition of I Gotta Feeling by The Black Eyed Peas and cheers and whoops ring out. She’s made my evening. Seeing her like this, performing, in her element, is another form of medicine to me. I watch her, fascinated and content, as she sings her way across the island and back again, stepping over glasses and dishes.
James turns me around to face him. “You need to pack.”