Page 108 of High Frequency

“Yeah, I know. You show me every day, still good to hear the words though.”

I immediately make a mental note to get in the habit of telling him more often.

“Somebody’s out of patience,” he points out.

You definitely don’t need the monitor to hear the loud wailing coming from down the hall. As easy and compliant a baby as she was not that long ago, she appears to have run low on patience at seven months old. She lets us know when she wants something, and right now she wants some attention.

Dan kisses the tip of my nose before darting back out of the room.

For the next few minutes, I sit on the edge of the bed, the baby monitor pressed against my ear, a smile on my face, listening to the two of them chat it up.

This is my life now, and I love it.

Dan

“Good to see you.”

I try not to show my surprise when I open the door to find Jillian Lederman standing on our porch with a large shopping bag in her hand.

I know Sloane stays in touch with her, but she never mentioned she’d invited her for Thanksgiving.

“Come in,” I quickly add, stepping aside and inviting her into the chaos the house has turned into.

My family already arrived a couple of hours ago, which apparently is enough time for four-year-old Cherry and almost two-year-old Chloe to lose any and all inhibitions. Chloe is currently running around the room, buck naked, with her diaper stuck around one ankle, while big sister Cherry is giggling her little ass off as she tries to catch up with her.

The football game is on TV in the living room with Sully and Wolff watching, while Pippa, and my brother-in-law, Wapi, are talking engines. Carmi is on her belly on the floor, playing with Aspen, and Steve—who turns out to be a huge NASCAR fan—is at the dining table with my father in deep conversation, not really bothered by the mayhem around them. Isobel, Lindsey, and Sloane are in the kitchen, hanging around the island drinking wine.

“Jillian! You made it,” Sloane calls out when she catches sight of her.

As Jillian makes her way to the kitchen I notice Wolff, halfway out of his seat, a shocked expression on his face as he follows her with his eyes. He seems to catch himself and sits back down, but not before Sully takes note as well. Interesting.

“Can I get anyone another drink?” I ask the group in the living room. “Wolff? Another beer? Something stronger?”

Sully chuckles as Wolff shoots me a dirty look.

“I’m good,” he grumbles.

Sully hands me his empty, and Wapi does the same.

When I walk into the kitchen to get them fresh beers, I notice the conversation between the women huddled around the kitchen island stops abruptly.

“Am I interrupting?”

Sloane shakes her head, her eyes innocently wide. A sure sign she’s lying through her teeth.

“No, no. Jillian was just telling me she brought dessert, would you mind getting it from the back of her SUV?”

Dessert?We have five pies sitting on the kitchen counter.

A strangled sound comes from my sister and when I turn to her, she slaps a hand over her mouth. Something’s definitely going on.

Still, I focus on Jillian, whose expression is completely blank. “Sure, gimme your keys.”

I drop the beers off for the guys and head outside. Using her key fob, I open the gate on the SUV, and am greeted with an excited yip.

No pies, but a dog crate takes up almost all the space in the back. Inside is a giant puppy, wild fur, tongue lolling, and tail wagging. The remnants of a red bow, I’m sure was originally tied to the crate, is now laying at the pup’s massive feet.

When I look back at the house, I catch sight of Sloane coming toward me, a smile on her face, as Jillian, my sister, and my mother-in-law have come out on the porch.

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