Page 33 of The Distiller's Darling

“So, is Iain moving in with you, or what?” Noah reached across Angelica for the basket of pastries Naomi had brought as her contribution to dinner.

“No!” Naomi exclaimed. “God, Noah, we’re just sleeping together, and we hang out sometimes. Get over it.”

Noah leaned forward, concern knitting his eyebrows together. “He’s got a hard stop on being around, you know. Back to Ireland in less than six weeks. Plane tickets in hand. This is the closest I’ve seen you come to being in an actual relationship since you were twenty, Nay. I just don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“We don’t want either of you to get hurt,” Angelica said. “Iain’s a nice guy.”

“I’m aware of that. And I know you both mean well, but the implication that I’m going to wither up and die when he goes home is fairly insulting.” Naomi kept her tone as even as she could manage. “I’m an adult. So is Iain. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that we did in fact talk it over and agree to hang out together until he leaves. It’s already dealt with.”

Noah and Angelica exchanged glances, communicating silently in some sort of couple telepathy. Naomi resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“So you’re not going to start doodling your name and his all over your notebook?” Noah stuffed another half a pastry into his mouth as he spoke, and the last few words came spraying out with an extra helping of crumbs.

“Could you be more disgusting? No.” Naomi looked at the table. “I was going to volunteer to help clean up, to thank Angelica for cooking, but if you’re going to say-and-spray, you just signed yourself up.”

Angelica chuckled. “That seems fair.” She looked back at Naomi, a thoughtful frown crossing her face. “Can I ask you a rude question?”

Naomi threw up her hands and leaned back in her chair. “Why stop now? Go for it.”

“What are your future plans?” Angelica clasped her hands on the table in front of her as Noah gathered the empty plates and carried them to the sink.

Something about the other woman’s posture niggled at Naomi’s brain, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Not while warning bells were sounding in her head. Anytime someone asked what she had planned for the future, the discussion inevitably turned to what a disappointment she was or how she wasn’t living up to her God-given potential. Her potential being, of course, to become a doting wife and mother.

“What do you mean?” she asked, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I mean personally.”

Naomi felt her eyebrows rising. “Wow. Have you been talking to my mother?”

Angelica pursed her lips. “I’m just curious. I was talking to Iain about the same thing the other day.”

Naomi felt her stomach drop. Here came the words. Iain wanted a dozen babies and a perfect wife who would drive them around to all their baseball practices and piano lessons. No, he was moving back to Ireland. Rugby practice? Harp? No wonder he had freaked out about the condom.

“I don’t want kids,” she said quickly. Best to get it over with.

A familiar silence descended on the room. It was the awkward quiet of people whose worldview included the ever-present assumption of future children when confronted with somebody who didn’t fit in. She recognized it, because she’d caused it often enough.

“At all?” Angelica finally asked.

“At all.” Naomi kept her tone firm. Years of having this conversation made it a lot easier. And at least Angelica and Noah would listen to her, and maybe even believe her, unlike her family. “I’m not interested. I like being an aunt, but I have never once wanted kids of my own. Frankly, I’m getting really excited to turn thirty-five in a couple of years. My sister-in-law says that’s when the doctors think your ovaries dry up, and people stop bothering you about it.” Angelica and Noah exchanged glances again, but Naomi plowed on. “If Iain told you he wants kids, that’s fine. Just another reason two months is plenty. Great sex, no strings.” She smiled at them. “It’s okay to be jealous.”

Angelica giggled. “Only a little.”

Noah bonked her on the head with the empty pastry basket on his last pass to clear the table. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious.” Angelica beamed at him. “You love me.”

“I do love you. Strings and all.” He leaned in for a kiss, and Naomi took the opportunity to make her escape.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said as she stood up. “You can practice your cooking on me anytime, Angelica.”

“Be careful what you’re asking for,” Noah said.

“Hush, you.” Angelica rose and walked Naomi to the door. “Thanks for coming.” She gave Naomi a quick hug. “It’s always good to see you.” She let go and opened the door for Naomi to leave. “Maybe you can bring Iain next time.”

“Maybe,” Naomi said. “If he’s still around.”

It wasn’t until she was driving away that she realized Angelica had completely avoided the marriage question by turning the ’intervention’ right back around to Naomi and Iain. Maybe that little conversational gambit hadn’t been quite so altruistic after all. She’d known something was off about the way Angelica had posed her question, but she’d been too preoccupied with smoothing down her own ruffled feathers to see clearly what she’d been trying to accomplish. Score one for Angelica.

“Clever woman,” she murmured. And immediately began plotting revenge. She was definitely going to sign Angelica up for gift subscriptions to at least three bridal magazines the second she got home.

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