Page 60 of Love You Too

“You’re not going to do that either. You’re going to learn to do more than one thing at a time really well. You’re already doing it. You’re spending time with me, and hockey hasn’t suffered. I have full faith in you, Ren.”

She says it like it’s not even a discussion. But she doesn’t understand. The team is suffering. I haven’t been able to fix our chemistry, and if I wasn’t distracted by Trix and her pregnancy, maybe I’d have turned things around by now.

The worst part is that I want to be with her more than I want to think about the next pep talk or individual meetings with my teammates. Here, with her in my arms, it doesn’t feel like a problem. So I allow myself to push off the worries. For now.

CHAPTER 25

Beatrix

“Knock, knock.”The sing-song voice could only belong to one person.

“PJ, since when do you ever knock?” My sister has always been a little pushy, probably a necessary survival skill as the youngest of five kids. And given that my office door is open, her formality is silly.

Julie appears next to her, holding an armful of flowers. “Since she highjacked your afternoon meeting with the landscape architect to talk about wedding flowers.”

I start to panic. “What do you mean? What happened to Perry? We had an appointment.” Protectively, I pull my desk planner closer.

“Relax. I moved the meeting to Thursday, so you can go home early today,” Julie says. “You need to get off your feet so they don’t swell. I know you want to fit into those cute bootiestomorrow when you meet the couples who are considering the inn for their weddings next year.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s so smart,” I say, turning away because I feel tears spring from my eyes, and I will not weep in front of PJ. Julie’s seen my waterworks daily this week—at nearly four months pregnant, my hormones run my life and my bump is starting to show—but my sister still thinks I’m a little bit sane, and I don’t want to spoil the image.

PJ doesn’t seem to notice, too busy inspecting the flowers in Julie’s arms. Different sizes, colors, shapes, and holy hell, the smells. I almost gag at the overly floral medley. “I need help. Do any of these go together?” With her wide eyes, PJ looks like a little lost deer.

Julie lays the blooms on the wooden table and starts separating them by color. “For your bouquet?” I ask.

“Yes. And the décor around the altar. I really like the pinks and oranges.”

I’m about to tell her I don’t like the pinks and oranges, but Julie elbows me, anticipating my lack of filter. “Sure. We can put something together with these. Do you like the pale green leaves mixed in?” I pull a few more blooms and leaves to show her a sample arrangement. “This could be really pretty with deep gray linens and even some tiny lights on the altar.”

She nods and drops to the couch with the flowers in her lap, making me realize they’re not the primary reason for her visit. “Peej, what’s up?”

“I just wondered… How’d lunch go with Ren’s mom?”

“Good.” Maybe I answer too quickly because she raises an eyebrow.

“Are we lying?” She blinks at me in the patient way she did when we were kids and she wanted me to choose a board game for us to play.

“No.”

Julie huffs a laugh, and I glare at her. She rolls her eyes. “I’mjust loving that you think you can fool the people who know you best.”

“Okay, you two. Stop ganging up on me. The lunch was fine. She’s a piece of work, but I already knew that. It was…fine.”

“I’ll be out here with the flowers when you’re ready to tell me I’m right, and details are welcome,” Julie sings, walking out the door and closing it behind her.

I look at my sister, grimly gripping her flowers. “What are you worried about?”

She shrugs. “Meeting the mom is always kind of a thing. I wanted to check on you.”

Her concern makes those tears threaten again. I’ve stopped feeling resentful when my emotions take over because I’m learning that pregnancy—and parenthood, I expect—is about relinquishing some control. Even though it doesn’t come easily, I know I can’t fight it. “I’m okay, thanks. I’m just in my head a lot, thinking about Ren, where life with him is leading.”

PJ plays with one of the leafy branches, arranging the leaves in her lap. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I’m more curious than defensive.

“This is Ren. I just remember how much he hurt you back then,” she says.

I start to tell her she doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but I can’t.

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