Page 107 of Growing Into Love

“I just don’t want her thinking I know something I don’t,” Cass says.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “You and Dec worked things out though, right?”

“Yeah.”

I clink my beer to her glass. “So, you do know a thing or two about maintaining familial bonds.”

She rolls her eyes and we head back to the living room. I notice the Liverpool coasters again.

“Do you support Liverpool?” I ask Craig.

He brightens. “I do. Did you catch the match against Chelsea?”

“Yes,” I say. “Christ, what a game!”

Craig and I slip into comfortable conversation about football and Theresa asks Cass about the Windy Acres Classic. It’s nice to leave all talk of the baby behind for a moment. By the time we’ve finished our drinks, the atmosphere is more relaxed. We all exchange numbers and Theresa says she’ll keep us updated on the doctor’s appointments. Cass and I say our goodbyes and head to the car.

“Well,” she says as she closes the passenger door. “That was an experience.”

“How are you feeling?” I ask warily.

“Like I need about ten more glasses of wine.” She leans back against the headrest. “You weren’t kidding about Theresa. She’s over the moon about me being around for this kid.”

“She is,” I agree.

“It’s not like growing up at Oak Hill gave me some kind of superpower.”

“Cass, you are the most supportive, devoted, loyal person I know,” I say. “I think those are qualities Theresa wishes came along with being a Scorpio.”

She smirks at me. “That’s such a Sagittarian thing to say.” Then her face puckers. “I’ve got to get the sanctuary off the ground before the baby is born. Otherwise, I fear it’ll never happen.”

“When do you meet with the builders?” I ask.

“Next week. Autumn arranged the meeting.”

I feel horrible that I can’t help her with it more. I’ve been going through my finances, and I’ll need every penny to help raise this child. I was glad Theresa suggested split custody. I didn’t want to have to fight over that, but I wasn’t going to accept less than fifty-fifty.

I start the car and we begin the drive back to Hart’s Crossing.

“I really can’t believe Theresa’s being selfish about the name,” I grumble.

“Oh Jaz, you’ve got to get over that. Who cares what the baby is named?”

“I do,” I say stubbornly. “There are family names that are important to me, to my mum. I’m deeply proud of my own name. It has a history in my family. I wanted the opportunity to pass that down to my child.”

She reaches out to rub the back of my neck. “I get it. Well, I don’t care one way or the other about baby names, but I understand what you’re saying. However. I think you need to take a deep breath and let this go. Are you currently housing a tiny cluster of cells that will eventually turn into a human? Are you then going to push said human out a very small hole in your body? Are you going to go through months of weight gain, hormonal shifts, bizarre food cravings, acid reflux—”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.” I purse my lips. “Who would’ve thought you’d take Theresa’s side on something.”

“In this one instance, she deserves it,” Cass teases. “She’s really clever, actually. And we both love Emily Henry.”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s a romance author. Theresa reads, like, everything. Did you see all those books?”

“Yeah, I’m glad to hear she’s taking some time off teaching,” I say. “She can really stress herself out with her work. Stress is bad for pregnancy.”

“I can invite her to come to see the lambs at Oak Hill,” Cass says. “Nothing destresses you like holding a teddy bear lamb.”

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