Page 19 of Unexpectingly Happily Ever After

Emma’s outside with the kids now, teaching them how to use the bubble guns she got for them. Five of them, so there wouldn’t be a problem with sharing. The kids may be great, but kids are kids and sharing is always a hard one to learn.

″It doesn’t really surprise me.” Cooper doesn’t meet my gaze, but that could be because he’s focused on the poached eggs. I love his eggs Benedict, which is why he usually makes them for us when we come for brunch. I always ask him how he can cook all week in the restaurant and still look so happy in his own kitchen, but he says that’s just what he does. It’s how he shows people he cares. It’s like he’s Italian.

″J.B.’s always talking about the kids,” Cooper continues, whisking the hollandaise sauce. “And asking about mine. He’s a different man since you had the trips, Casey. It’s amazing to see.”

″He’s a great dad,” I say. “That’s not the issue.”

″Are you trying to tell meyoudon’t want another baby?” This time he meets my gaze with raised eyebrows of skepticism.

″I didn’t say that.”

″I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t.” Cooper’s always had a calming effect on me, but never has he been able to quiet my maelstrom of thoughts quicker than this. If Cooper thinks it’s okay for me not to want another baby then it’s really okay.

But then he continues. “Three is a lot to handle. Even if it was possible for Em and me, there’s no way we’d add on the brood. And Emma is an amazing mother. But you, Casey, this is what you were made for. You’ve got such a talent with kids–your own and everyone else’s. You show that being a teacher. You were made to be a mother.”

I drop my head, unable to show him how touched I am by his words. “It doesn’t feel like it some days.”

″Trust me, if there’s anyone who could handle your three and then more, it’s you. And J.B. knows that. He probably thinks this is what you want.”

″I’m pretty sure I never said the wordsI want more kidsto him.”

″Did you tell him the first time?”

″That wasdifferent.”

Cooper shrugs, the exact same gesture J.B. used in the car. “Maybe it’s preventative. He’s throwing it out there before you can come out and tell him you’re pregnant again.”

″So you think he doesn’t really want another one?” I grasp at the thought like a lifeboat floating away.

Cooper thrusts his chin towards the window. I glance out at the perfect moment where all five kids converge on a laughing J.B., sending him to his knees as they pelt him with bubbles from their bubble guns. “What do you think?”

I sigh.

″Two is enough for me and Em, but you two? You could have enough for a basketball team.”

I widen my eyes in horror. “Do you think that’s what he’s doing? Making his own basketball team?”

Cooper laughs as he carefully lifts out a poached egg. “You have great kids, Casey. A few more wouldn’t hurt.”

″You say that now but wait until Sophie comes calling. She’s told us she wants to live with you if we ever have to get rid of her.”

I swear Cooper pales. “Sophie? Really? Not Ben? I’m better with boys. Or Lucy?”

Our last stop on Saturday is the grocery store. Sometimes if the kids are particularly active/whiny, J.B. will go himself, but I’ve found inrecent years that all three love a good trip to the local Longos grocery store.

Today was no exception, especially when J.B. instigates a scavenger hunt, giving each kid three things to find. The rules are no leaving the store, don’t eat anything, and stay out of the candy aisle.

You’d think shopping would be quick work with five of us collecting items off the weekly shopping list, but the game makes everything twice as long. Lucy is the first one to return with her mangoes, pound of butter and loaf of sourdough bread, but then she runs off to find Ben to see how he’s making out, and then the two of them have to track down Sophie, who they find standing transfixed by the whole fish lying on a bed of ice still with head and tail intact.

When Sophie reports back, it’s to tell us she’s never eating fish again because they look alive with their eyeballs in.

″They’re not alive,” J.B. says patiently.

″But they do look alive.” Lucy has a worried expression on her face. I suspect Sophie did her best to convince her the fish was indeed still breathing.

″They’re really dead,” J.B. assures them. “But not too dead or else they’d smell. Fish aren’t supposed to smell.”

″But they do when Momma cooks them,” Ben points out.

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