Page 41 of Unexpectingly Happily Ever After

″Not really. What’s been going on there?” I ask eagerly. “Kids, you…”

″Nothing exciting since we talked to you last night. They loved the video from the casino, by the way. How much did you win?”

″I still haven’t gone back to cash it in,” I admit, making a mental note to do that today. I tell him about last night, what we ate in the restaurant and because he’s into mixology, the different bars, and clubs, and drinks we had.

I glance up when Brit comes in from the terrace.

″Are you still talking?”

I wave the phone at her. “Hi Brit,” J.B says, pasting a smile on his face. He does his best, but Brit’s never been his favourite person. He gets along much better with Morgan. “Happy bachelorette party.”

″Hi, J.B. Do you want to get breakfast when you’re done talking?”

″I would love to go to breakfast with you, Brit,” J.B. replies.

″Unfortunately, you’re not invited,” Brit says rudely. “Casey? I’m famished.”

Famished means she might have an egg with her yogurt and fruit. “Yep, I’m hungry. Just a sec.” I turn back to J.B.’s face. “I’ll try and call when the kids are home from school.”

″If you can’t, don’t worry. Your sister invited us for dinner tonight. Apparently, she doesn’t think I’m capable of feeding my children. Wonder how she got that idea?”

″I didn’t say anything about cooking,” I protest. “I miss you.”

″I miss you too. Stay out of trouble.”

″No promises.” I kiss the screen and end the call. When I look up, Brit is staring at me.

″You’re still so sappy.”

For once, her comment doesn’t sound like a criticism. I shrug. “I still love him.”

″Well, I don’t expect that will change but you’re always somiss you, love you,mwah, mwah, mwah.″ She makes kissing faces to go with the sound effects.

″I’m sorry if it offends you,” I say stiffly.

″It doesn’t offend me.” She pauses and I pull myself off the bed, thinking that she’s finished. But she’s not. “It–you’re the only one of the three of us to have found that with someone. I guess I’ve never realized how rare that is, thatkind of love.”

Mystified, I only stare at her. Was that a compliment about my relationship? But before I can ask, her expression tightens. “Get dressed. Let’s go get something to eat.”

I get dressed in record time and Brit and I find a suitable place for breakfast. As much as I try to bring the conversation back around, it’s clear Brit is back on her no- talking-about-men mantra.

I watch her eat blueberry pancakes swimming in syrup. It’s a first for her. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never witnessed Brit enjoying a meal when we go out. She goes for the low-fat, no-flavour things when we’re out in public.

It’s not just this morning; last night she had pasta for dinner, plus dessert. Her own–no sharing like I sometimes do with Morgan.

″Why are you staring at me?” Brit interrupts my observation.

″Because I never see you eat like this,” I tell her honestly.

Brit shrugs as she forks up another mouthful of pancakes. I went for the eggs Benedict like I always do, but for once am regretting my decision. The pancakes look good.

″Is everything okay?”

She meets my gaze with a steely-eyed look. “Why do you ask?”

″Because…you’re eating. And you seem more anti-men than usual. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Brit gives me a roll of her eye. “I’m not anti-men.”

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