Sin With Me

4

. “There’s no excuse for vulgarity, dear. I was in labor for a combined total of forty-six hours with you and your brother and I never once resorted to swearing. It’s unseemly.”

The way Chloe is looking at her mother makes me think something very unseemly is about to come out of her mouth, so to keep the peace I interject.

“A.J., why don’t we move her to the bed? I think she’ll be most comfortable there.”

He’s on his feet so fast he might as well have springs in his legs. “Arms around my shoulders, baby,” he murmurs to Chloe as he lifts her. When she’s securely in his arms, he says, “Lead the way, Grace.”

While Kat scrambles to get the suitcase off the bed, I put my hand on his arm and guide him over to it. “Right here. Feel it?”

When his knee bumps the edge of the mattress, he leans down, gently sets Chloe on the bed, finds her face with his hands, and then gives her a soft kiss. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just that,” she sighs, settling back into the pillows.

“There’s my girl!” crows Thomas, coming over with a drink in each hand. Beaming at Chloe, he gives me my vodka rocks. I proceed to drink half of it in one gulp.

This child birthing business is stressful.

A woman with long, flowy blonde hair and a gentle smile appears in the doorway. She gives the back of the door a hesitant knock. “Hello. My name is Nadine. I’m the doula?”

She says it as if she’s not entirely sure it’s true. Elizabeth looks her up and down, frowning at her Birkenstocks and untamed hair.

A.J. says, “Yes! Welcome! Come in!”

Thomas asks, “Would you like a drink, Nadine?”

Elizabeth says flatly, “Thomas.”

Chloe groans. “Oh s**t sticks! Here comes another one!”

Elizabeth exclaims, “Chloe Anne Carmichael!”

The doula moves to the end of the bed. “Let’s take a look and see how dilated we are, shall we?”

I say, “Okay, kids, I think it’s time for us to leave you to it! We’ll be in the waiting room with the rest of the gang.” I lean over and kiss Chloe’s forehead.

She grunts. “What, you don’t want to check out the gaping maw of my cervix?”

“Thank you for that disturbing visual.” I grimace and take another swig of my drink.

Kat comes over, bumps me out of the way with her hip, and kisses Chloe’s cheek. Very softly, she says, “You’re gonna do great. Everything’s gonna be perfect. Try not to stress out, just breathe. Okay?”

Chloe nods, and then her face puckers. She gasps. “A.J.!”

Kat and I leap out of the way before he flattens us.

“I’m here, angel. I’m right here.”

When he starts to murmur something else into her ear, I turn away, smiling. Kat links her arm through mine. We say good-bye to Chloe’s parents, gather our handbags, and quietly leave the room.

After we’ve closed the door behind us and are standing in the empty hallway, Kat heaves out a shaky breath.

“You doing okay?”

She swallows hard, closes her eyes for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah. It’s just . . . f*****g hospitals.”

I know this must be taking an emotional toll on her. When Kat was a teenager, she got pregnant. She decided to go through with the pregnancy, arranged for the baby to be adopted, and even became friends with the couple who was going to be the adoptive parents.

Then life decided Kat hadn’t already been f****d over enough by her father abandoning her on her eighth birthday, the baby’s biological father abandoning her when he discovered she was pregnant, and her mother dying on the same day Kat went into labor, because her baby girl died three days after she was born.

“f*****g hospitals,” I agree, meeting her eyes.

She stares at me a moment. “Are you okay?” she whispers, squeezing my arm.

Usually it’s an incredible gift having a friend who knows me so well, but every once in a while it’s a royal pain in the ass. I hate people guessing I might be made of anything but titanium.

I smile brightly. “Of course.”

Her left brow climbs. Kat has mastered the art of the eyebrow arch. It always surprises me how a two-inch section of facial hair can so perfectly telegraph emotions ranging from curiosity to disbelief to withering disdain. Right now it’s calling bullshit on me.

I insist, “I’m bulletproof, Kat. You know that.”

“Sure thing, Pinocchio. But your nose is growing.” She looks pointedly at the glass of vodka in my hand.

Eagle-eyed witch.

“Hey, don’t blame me, I was just being polite. Thomas hates to drink alone.”

“Thomas?” Kat mimics.

“Yes, Thomas. That’s his name.”

“That’s funny, because I always call him Mr. Carmichael. You know, out of respect?”

I grin at her and again adopt Chloe’s mother’s voice. “Yes, dear, the help should always be respectful of their betters.”

She barks out a laugh and shakes her head. “Screw you, Grandma.”

“A delightful invitation, but I’m currently screwing a gorgeous and extremely well-endowed talent agent from CAA.”

“No!” Kat exclaims. “Who is he? Why haven’t you told us anything about him? Spill, spill!”

She’s excited—and more importantly distracted from any more questions about my emotional state.

Exactly as I’d hoped.

I tell her about my latest conquest as I lead her down the hallway toward the waiting room, where the rest of our crew awaits.