Page 38 of By the Letter

Angelina is whip-smart and knows the marketing department like the back of her hand. I think offering her the position was a great decision.

Mary told me it was a friendly headbutt. Keep the “good girls” coming, and you’ll have her wrapped around your finger.

Yours,

Shira

That evening, I received a delivery of navel oranges and clementines. The note on the receipt said, “For Beanie, who’s already making a stand against scurvy.” I read that one to Bea and Clara, who were still pretty anti-Roman despite the efforts he’d been making. I couldn’t say I was comfortable with him or trusted him, but he was chipping away at me.

Shira,

The results are back, and as we both knew, the baby is mine. I passed that news to mybrothers, and Ben’s reaction was nothing if not predictable. Can you guess what he said?

I noticed quite a few orange peels in the trash. Looks like Beanie is still going strong in their fight against scurvy. Do let me know if that changes. I’ll gladly load you up on cookies or movie theater popcorn if that’s what the bean demands.

Mary still hates me, and she’s becoming more wily. Today, she presented herself for pets. When I answered her demands, she turned around, swatted at me, and hissed. Did you know she hisses? For a small creature, she scares me.

Roman

He’d left the paternity test results for me, though I’d received a copy already. I smiled when I noticed he’d underlined the results three times.

Roman,

I’m happy you’re the father and it’s not the delivery driver.There was never a doubt in my mind Beanie is half yours.

As for Ben…I think I can guess he said something about your identical DNA and throwing his hat in the ring as a possible father. Unless it was really him behind that mask, he’s going to have to live with being Uncle Ben.

I’m still loving anything citrus, but I have to admit, Beanie perked up at the mention of popcorn. I haven’t been to a movie in a long time. Maybe I’ll have to go.

Mary has never hissed a day in her life. I’m sure she was simply trying to communicate.

Yours,

Shira

The following day, a massive bucket of popcorn was delivered to my door. The best part—aside from the intense thoughtfulness that made my nose sting? It was still warm.

The prospect of seeing Roman for the first time in weeks was on my mind when I walked up to the building that held Dr. Sharma’s practice, which was why I didn’t notice the couple approaching the doors until we were almost on top of each other. I stopped, backing up a step to let them through.

“Shira!”

My gaze jerked up to the very pregnant, auburn-haired woman in front of me, and a smile stretched across my face. “Kit! Oh my gosh, I wasn’t paying attention. How are you?”

She patted her round bump and grinned. “I’m good. Feeling large and in charge, but—”

“You aren’t large, sweetheart,” her husband, Elliot Levy, admonished as gently as he was capable. “You’re carrying and nourishing our daughter. You’re the exact right size you should be.”

She melted against his imposing form. “Thank you for the reminder.”

I had known Kit in passing for several years. First as Elliot Levy’s assistant, then as his wife. Elliot owned many of the high-rises in Denver, including the Levy building, which housed GoldMed’s headquarters as well as Levy Development.

When Kit and Elliot got married almost four years ago, she’d started a nonprofit that provided rehabbed homes to needyfamilies, and I’d gotten to know her better through that since I shared the passion. Frank and I had donated heavily to Building Dignity, and I’d continued after he passed.

I didn’t know Elliot as well. For one, he was one of the most intimidating men I had ever met, but also, he seemed fairly closed off with everyone but Kit. With her, their daughter, Joey, and their son, Theo, he was openly adoring.

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