Page 77 of Claiming What Is Mine

Hank laughs. “Me too. Want another sip of my beer?” He tips the neck of the bottle in my direction.

“Don’t do it,” I warn.

Christy stands in the open doorway with Logan in her arms. “Hank’s been living at my place for how long now? But the minute you two are in the same room together, you fall right back into your old routine, like nothing changed.”

Hank and I both look up and point at one another. “He started it,” we say together.

Chet comes through the door and stands behind his wife. “Same two fools they’ve always been. I never saw how changing where one of them sleeps was likely to help.”

I look to Hank. “Remember what I said about Chet before?”

Hank nods. “Yeah.”

“Strike that.”

Chet shakes his head and steps forward, taking Christy by the hand. “Come on, Doc. Let’s say hello to Mom and see if she can use any help.”

Christy hurls a now-look-what-you’ve-done glare in our direction before turning to her husband. “Why don’t you take this little guy—I think he’s due for a diaper change—while I check on Marie.”

I smile at Chet, ready to make a joke about how he always gets the shitty jobs, but a delicate knock at the door derails my train of thought. Chet tries to adjust the baby in his arms to find a free hand for the door. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” Meredith stands on the porch, resting a cake plate on her belly, illuminated by the warm glow of the porch light. “Evening, Doll. My, my, my—you look good enough to eat,” I say as I push open the door.

“Thanks—you look…” Meredith stops mid-step as she enters the house. “Um. Couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time?” she laughs, pointing at my lap.

“Hank,” I mutter.

“Ahh.” Meredith continues into the living room. “Chet, Hank—Oh, would you look at that outfit?” Meredith shoves the dessert into my hands as she goes into baby mode over Logan. “He’s so handsome in his little overalls. Can I hold him?” she looks to Chet.

“Sure. I was just about to change his diaper though.”

“I’ll do it.” She takes the diaper bag and baby from his father and barely glances in my direction before disappearing into a bedroom. “We’ll be back.”

I set the cake down on the coffee table. “Somehow I doubt I’ll be that lucky after our little one gets here.” Chet nods, but says nothing. I try again to make conversation. “So, have you heard from anyone else? Who should we be expecting?”

“Frank’s out,” Hank says as he continues flipping through channels.

“Really? Did he say why?” Chet asks.

Having finally settled on a holiday movie we’ve all seen a thousand times, Hank looks up from the television. “Something to do with a girl.”

I turn to Hank. “I didn’t know he was seeing anyone. Much less someone serious enough to skip Thanksgiving over.”

“His number hasn’t changed. Get over yourself and call him if you need more info.”

I glance at Chet and glare at Hank, not wanting to dredge up the argument we had in Hank’s kitchen after the wedding. “Nah—I don’t care that much. Besides, it means more leftovers for us, right? What about Jack? Any word from him?”

Chet responds. “He’s on his way. Should be here any time.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air as each of us contemplates if we’re going to ask about the remaining brother. Hank finally breaks the silence. “Leo’s out. But he didn’t say why.”

I quietly breathe a sigh of relief, but know Mom will be devastated.

When Meredith comes back into the room, playfully bouncing a smiling baby Logan through the air, she notices the tension in the room and shoots me a questioning look. I shake my head, hopeful she understands not to mention it. “Hank, you’re sitting in the middle of the couch, why don’t you slide over and make some room for the lady?” Hank does just that, slides over and pats a spot beside him for Meredith and Logan, while spreading out to take up as much of the remaining couch as possible.

I roll my eyes. “You have the mental maturity of a thirteen-year-old.”

Meredith places Logan in Chet’s arms. “Here, you go handsome, time to go back to your daddy.” She smiles at Chet. “Gabe, why don’t we see if your mom and Christy could use any help?”

Meredith picks up the cake and I wrap my arm around her waist as we walk into the kitchen. When we enter, both women look up from their respective tasks and offer warm smiles.

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