Nya: Y’all wrap things up and come home. Hannah and I are in the mood to hang out.
Liam: Be home soon.
I order Nya’s wings to go and have another beer, working myself up to face my wife after the bomb our best friends just dropped on us. She’s finally tolerating Chance. If he fucks this up, all bets are off.
Once her food arrives, we pay our tabs and head out. Chance follows me to the hibachi place, trailing me inside so he can witness my humiliation. I think he’s also a little afraid to confront Nya first, without having me there as a buffer. Can’t say I blame the guy. She can be terrifying for such a little person.
Just as I suspected, I’m the laughingstock of Yamato Steakhouse when I walk in and order white meat sauce to go.
“Just the sauce? No steak or chicken?”
“Just the sauce. Wife wants to dip her barbeque wings in it.”
The little Asian guy scrunches his nose in disgust.
My sentiments exactly. “She’s pregnant.”
“Ahh,” he nods. “On the house, then.” He fixes a few extra to-go cups. “Here take more in case she wants to put it on her eggs or something in the morning.”
I want to laugh at the ridiculousness, but instead I thank him, because he’s probably just saved me another trip.
“Where’s Ellie?” I look around the room for my daughter when Nya meets us in the foyer, snatching the food from my hands like she hasn’t eaten in a week. The second that girl hears car doors she’s on her feet.
My gorgeous wife lifts up onto her toes and presses her plump lips to mine before answering. “Went for a sleepover at Kennedi’s. Thanks for picking this up for me. You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.”
“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had.”
Her wink is filled with mischief. “That also makes you the worst.” She smooths a hand over my chest then turns toward my sidekick. I’m fully expecting all hell to break loose. “Hey, Chance.” She smiles at him in a way I haven’t seen since college—pre-club days. “Hannah’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”
Well, that was pleasant.
I follow my wife into the kitchen, where we join our friends at the breakfast table. It’s fucking weird to see the two of them holding hands and gazing longingly at each other. This’ll take some getting used to.
“Spades?” Chance grabs the deck of cards from the center of the table and starts shuffling while Nya devours her takeout.
“Yeah!” Hannah shimmies in her seat. “Couples?”
“Fine with me,” Nya mutters through a mouthful of food. “I always got stuck with your ass and lost.”
“Hannah Banana, let’s switch seats.”
Frowning, she slugs out of her chair as it hits her that she can’t sit by Chance if they’re partners.
Chance deals out the cards. We take a minute organizing our hands then place our bids. There are thirteen tricks total. Nya and I have a combined bid of eight, and Chance and Hannah a combined bid of nine.
“Someone’s way off,” I say, eying my wife. “Better not be you.” It’s definitely her.
She snorts. “Bet it’s Hannah.”
“You’re lucky you’re knocked up, biotch.”
I go first, easily pulling in my bid of three before throwing low so someone else can take lead. This is where it all goes downhill. One by one, our friends clean house, with Nya not winning a single trick.
“You were saying?” I ask when we start the game eighty points in the hole.
“I’m concussed,” she offers before blowing me off with a dismissive wave.
“Oh, don’t even pull that ‘I got hit in the head with a coconut bull,’” Hannah snaps. “Unless you suffered permanent brain damage, that excuse is void.” Then, she starts laughing. “Only you, Nya Rose.”
“Only me what?”
“Only you would get knocked out by a damn coconut while on your honeymoon.”
It’s been long enough now that we can all have a good laugh about it. Nya’s been blaming her pregnancy brain on the coconut for weeks. Her memory as of late is total shit.
We play a few more rounds, and they all end much the same. Nya sucks at spades. At most card games, really… some things do not get better with time.
I’m shuffling the cards when Chance sets his beer down hard on the table, clearing his throat loud enough to wake the dead. “So, I got this really cryptic message the other day from one of the regulars, telling me to watch out for Ramey.” Guess Chance has finally gotten enough liquid courage to come out with it. I knew something was going on with the club when he called me earlier, and I really hate that he waited until now to bring it up.
“Why? What’d they say?” Ramey has been our bouncer since the day we opened. I can’t imagine he’d be involved in any shady shit.
“Just that her father is a cop, and she heard him and a couple of the guys throwing his name around. She couldn’t tell me what for and said she shouldn’t have told me as much as she did, which really wasn’t much to begin with.” He shrugs feigning nonchalance, but he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he wasn’t bothered. Especially in front of the girls.
“Call him in and talk to him.” I motion with my eyes to my wife on the side of me, a gentle push to drop it. He knows I don’t like discussing that place with her around.
“And ask him what?” Chance huffs, frustrated. “I heard it through the grapevine you were up to no good and here’s your shot to come clean?”
“Basically.”
He nods, staring at his cards with a sick look on his face. “I’ll handle it. Sorry for bringing it up.”
The mood is tense from then on, and by 10:00 p.m. my wife is nodding off in her seat.
“Let’s call it a night, guys. I’m gonna take this beauty on up to bed.”
“Hubba Hubba,” her friend teases, waggling her brows.
“Come home with me?” Chance eyes Hannah, his intent crystal clear. “I can bring you back to get your car before work in the morning.”
“Looks like we’re both getting lucky tonight.” The girls hug each other before Hannah grabs her purse and rushes out to Chance’s truck, confiscating his keys on the way.
Nya
Watch
While Liam locks up and turns out all the lights, I head up to the room to prepare myself for bed.
I brush my teeth and scrub the makeup from my face then release my braid and finger comb the tangles out of my hair.
I strip out of my leggings and tunic, tossing them into the basket and make my way to the attached closet. Feeling bold, I slip into a sheer black baby doll nightie, sans panties. I rotate side to side admiring my reflection in the full-length mirror. There’s no mistaking the way my body is changing. My breasts are fuller, filling out the cups of this dress in a way they couldn’t before. My tummy is just starting to poke out and looks more like I’ve had a little too much for dinner than I’m incubating a human. I can see the glow—the happiness radiating in my eyes.
It’s hard to believe how quickly my life has turned around. A few short months ago, I was a single mother of one. Now I’m married, with a baby on the way. I used to spend my nights alone, dreaming of what could have been. Now I drift off to sleep wrapped in the arms of the only man I’ve ever loved. And they say fairy tales aren’t real?