Page 150 of One More Chapter

“Thanks, but I’m sure this will be the first of many. Lucy’s as far along as I am.”

“I’ll be sure to keep ‘em coming.”

He winks, then chases behind Theo and Piper to answer the door.

Everyone arrives at the same time.

Sam, Juliet, Mason, Hope, Lincoln, and their newly adopted daughter, Rowan.

Lucy, Aaron, and their toddling twins, Luca and Cece.

Nathan and Claire, looking as sun-tanned as ever, after spending the first week of Christmas in Bora Bora. They take their two dogs, Bilbo and Hedwig, to the yard, where they immediately start playing snow tug-of-war with our German shepherd, Fenway.

Once everyone gets bags and shoes and coats settled in our overflowing mudroom, and all of the kids are happily set up with toys in the living room, we make our way to the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, Mama?” I ask Lucy. She rests a hand on her bump, that is about the size of mine, and puffs out her cheeks.

“The fact that my ankles made it through Disney for our babymoon trip a few weeks ago is a friggen miracle.”

“You didsowell, baby. I told her I would’ve gotten her a scooter!” Aaron hollers.

“What about you?” Juliet asks. “Are you ready for three under five?”

“Absolutely not. I think I might just let Pipes take the reins and raise this one. She already thinks she knows everything.”

As if on cue, my mini-me cries out from the living room something to the tune of,You’re doing it wrong!If I give her five minutes, one of the boys will probably be in a head lock.

“I’ve got it,” Ant says.

“God forbid someone tells her the word no!” I shout after him.

“Notmybaby girl!” he tosses back. I shake my head and rub my belly where my son kicks. “He is such a good dad.”

“Aaron, too. He’s been handling bedtime every night so I can put my feet up.”

“We’re just so glad to have Mason around again,” Juliet says, as their now twenty-two year old walks up with a beer in hand.

“No. Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head. “Itaughtyou.”

“Sure did,Ms. Barker.”

He winks, and wipes the shaggy dark hair from his eyes, then tips back his Sam Adams.

“How’s school?”

“Good. I’m finishing my Masters online, and Claire is going to plug me into some good social work programs. I want to specialize in kids who come from substance abuse homes.”

He has come such a long way. I tear up for probably the twelfth time today.

“Speaking of, whereisClaire?” I ask.

“In the living room,” Nathan says. “The PJ Layne surprise book hit her Kindle this morning and she’s almost finished with it.”

Sure enough, completely unfazed in the middle of kid chaos, Claire is curled up on our large couch, Kindle in hand, blush on her cheeks. I laugh, shaking my head. By the time she joins us, I already know what she’s going to say.

“Okay. I didn’t think your books could get any dirtier, but when hedecorated her like a gingerbread cookie?Penelope! You could’vewarneda girl!”

I lift my shoulder, smirk, toss her a “What can I say?” and take one of the pre-decorated cookies from the tray on the counter before turning to Nathan, pointing at him with the cookie, and saying, “You’re welcome.”

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