Page 101 of Mismatched

“His too?” I try to catch her gaze in the mirror. “You doing okay?”

She examines my sleeve so closely she could probably count the fibers in the threads. “It’s nothing. Just the move has been hard, and Adam?—”

“Is Adam?” I say before I can stop myself.

She looks at me so sharply, I wince. But then she lets out a soft exhale. “Yeah.”

“Um... I’m sorry.” I have no idea what else to say. I may have a hard time breathing the same air as Dr. Adam, but she must love him. And I know too well how complicated marriage can get. “We’ve done therapy. Maybe it’ll help you guys.”

She snorts. “Oh, he won’t go. It’s just for me. But thanks. It is helping. And so is being here this weekend, actually.”

I laugh. “Well, I guess I should say thanks? If you hadn’t insisted on throwing me a baby shower, I probably wasn’t going to make time for one.”

“Nonsense. Every new mom should be celebrated.” She fusses with my hair, and for a moment, I fight a twinge of guilt. I skipped out on her baby shower before she had Gabriel. At the time, attending any event centered on my sister was easily the last thing I wanted to do. But I’m beginning to sense a shift between us, and now I sort of wish I’d been there for her. “By the way,” she adds, lowering her voice. “Please don’t mention anything I said about Adam to Mom.”

I catch her eye in the mirror, and I’m surprised to find her gazing back, steady and serious. “Sure. I—I won’t.”

I don’t need to ask why. But the look on her face makes me pause. My ever-confident, always-knows-how-to-proceed sister almost looks uncertain. Before I can decide whether to ask her about it, we’re interrupted by a distressed cry from down the hall. Celia disappears so fast, it’s all I can do to waddle after her, but once I finally make it to the living room, I can’t tell what’s going on. Celia is across the room, holding Gabriel protectively to her chest. Our mother is by the front window, arms folded over her World’s Greatest Grandma T-shirt. My husband is glaring at her, standing in front of Heartthrob, who just looks confused.

“I’m telling you, that beast bit my grandson. Get it out of this house now,” my mother says, pointing at my dog.

“What?” I rush toward Heartthrob, then pivot halfway there, looking at Celia, who’s inspecting her son limb by limb.

“He did nothing of the sort. I saw the whole thing,” Anton says firmly, though he shoots a worried glance at my sister and nephew.

I stand paralyzed between them. Heartthrob has never shown any sign of aggression toward children. He’s usually remarkably sweet and tolerant of them. But he’s a big, powerful dog. If something happened, if he was provoked, he could seriously hurt Gabriel and the consequences would be devastating.

Celia looks up from the eleven-month-old clinging to her chest, her face a mask of relief. “I don’t see a mark on him. Are you sure that’s what you saw, Mom?”

“Of course I am. That dog growled at my grandson,” our mother snarls.

“I thought you said he bit him?” Anton says.

Gabriel turns in Celia’s arms, looking at all the flustered adults around the room. When his eyes light on Heartthrob, he reaches out with both arms and a giant grin. “Woof!”

Heartthrob wags his tail.

Anton and I look at each other and exhale.

He turns back to my mom. “So, he didn’t bite the baby, and you’re just not going to mention the part where Gabriel pulled himself up on the coffee table and was grabbing for your water glass before Heartthrob distracted him?” he asks. “Or did you not see any of that because you were too busy staring at your phone?”

She huffs, turning to me. “Lydia, you have to be careful. Men never truly know what’s going on.”

Anton snorts. “Maybe Heartthrob was growling at you.”

She curls her lip, but as she starts to reply, there’s a knock at the front door. Anton goes to answer it, clearly glad for the distraction, while Celia leans over to show Gabriel how to pet Heartthrob gently. I sigh and start the baby shower playlist she sent me last night. She actually compiled 200 songs with the word “baby” in the title.

“Hello! Congratulations!” Marisol says, stepping inside with Paloma, who rushes over to give me a hug.

I lean down to squeeze her back and she touches my belly with wide eyes. “Whoa. Big baby!”

I laugh. “Almost as big as you.”

Heartthrob strolls over and licks her cheek, making her giggle. My mom grunts and heads for the kitchen.

From there, we greet a procession of guests. Tomás comes with his husband Julian, each of them bearing pink gift bags. They’re followed by Seth, carrying a gorgeous basket of pink flowers. Then Charlotte, who hands me a card with a wistful smile. Scarlet shows up with Alicia and a handful of the Pooches crew, followed by Henry, a couple of my favorite long-time clients, and finally Caprice, who hands a wrapped gift to Anton, then greets me with a giant hug.

“Hey there, beautiful mama,” she says in my ear.

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