Page 60 of Love Bitters

Imogene

"Did anyone stop to wonder why Blythe volunteered to have this meeting at her house?" I ask Abilene as we drive to our book club meeting.

"I don't know if Jolene did, but I didn't," she answers with her focus out her window. "I think it might be kind of cool to see where she lives."

I snort. Abilene is famous and rich. There's nothing stopping her from living the same life Blythe does except herself.

Changing the subject, she asks, "How did the doctor appointment go this morning?"

Allowing her to avoid the other topic which may still suck for her, I reply, "Great. The baby is growing at a healthy rate and all of the vitals looked good. Wes keeps telling me to prepare to push out a ten pounder with the way it's growing."

She laughs, letting her gaze drift over to me. "So, they're still going with you to all of the appointments then?"

"Yep," I reply. "It's only once a month right now, so they were fighting over who got to go as soon as they knew. They've settled down some; so it doesn't come to arguments anymore. Or maybe it's just been working out that way because a couple of them have to work during the day, so they can't make it anyway. In any case, I’d still take the fights over having to go alone, for sure.”

"That's good. Have you heard from your parents?" she asks, attempting to hide her disdain.

Sucking in a deep breath, I admit, "I haven't spoken to either of them for about five weeks. Since that dinner. I feel kind of bad now about the way I told them, but she was refusing to even acknowledge the baby! I kind of threw the guys under the bus when I just blurted out our relationship, but I'm pretty sure neither of my parents actually believed it. Probably thought I was pulling some stunt to make their lives more miserable than I already have."

"I'm sorry," she says with a wince. "Makes me kind of appreciate my own mom. I don't know if I'd be strong enough to deal with all that in my life."

I shrug. "You get used to it. Besides, unless she reaches out and tries to mend things, it'll be a moot point anyway. They won't be in our lives."

We're pulling up to a massive house with a wrought iron gate and keypad by the time I finish that statement. First impressions say Blythe's family certainly has wealth and isn’t afraid to flaunt it. I'm pretty sure her house is the size, if not bigger than, the building of my apartment complex. It's so ostentatious that even Abilene freezes in her seat, stunned, and this chick used to hang around movie stars on the daily.

"It's to show off, right?" I suggest. "Having the meeting here."

She strains against her seatbelt, trying to get a better look at the windows on the third floor as she answers, "I don't think so, but now you've got me curious, too."

Okay, either I'm being super paranoid for no reason, or there's something she's not telling me. Chalking it up to the former and blaming baby brain, I park behind Jolene's car before getting out and following Abilene up the steps. Unlike at my own house, the door automatically swings open for us before an older man dressed as a butler welcomes us inside. He takes the lead after shutting the door, taking us down the long hallway. When it opens up, the sight is breathtaking. Two flights of stairs sit center stage, giving access to the other two floors of the house. There's a big study directly to the right, but he takes us to the sliding brown doors to the left.

As soon as he starts parting them, two things happen at once. Balloons and flowers all around the room catch my eye as my friends shout, "Surprise!"

My jaw hits the floor. The entire room is decked out with baby stuff and little pink, blue, and yellow balloons are tied down everywhere. A buffet with snacks and a huge cake sits off to one side, and against the back wall is a table overflowing with bags and boxes. I'm having trouble seeing through the mist starting to cover my vision, and then my friends separate, revealing yet another surprise. Losing the battle with my tears, the salty wetness rolls down my cheeks at the sight of my guys sitting on those expensive leather couches. They look so out of place mixed in with these women and all this baby stuff, yet I couldn’t be happier to see them.

Wes is the first one up, squeezing me in a hug while we wait for the crying to stop. It doesn't take long, and I press a quick kiss on his cheek before twisting my head to stab Abilene with narrowed eyes. "That's why you were acting so weird when I asked why we were meeting here. Word to the wise, don't ever play poker."

She grins right as Blythe asks, "Why were you worried about coming to my house?"

"Probably because she was scared you were going to try to make us all drink the Kool-Aid," Jade jests.

Blythe rolls her eyes to the ceiling but smiles as she does it. Then, clapping her hands, she says, "Okay, let's get this party started!" Waving toward a doorway, she beckons in several servers carrying silver trays with yellow-tinged-liquid filled flutes on them.

"Don't worry," she says, coming to my side and nudging my arm gently. "I'm not making you drink the Kool-Aid. It's just ginger ale."

I chuckle under my breath before gratefully telling her, "Thank you. It means a lot to me that you guys did this, and I appreciate it."

She shrugs one of her shoulders like emotions make her uncomfortable, but there's no mistaking the soft smile that graces her lips before she turns to the room and announces, “Everyone grab some snacks and eat up. We’ve got games to play, presents to open, and a gender reveal.”

“Wait,” I say, surprised, “why a gender reveal?”

Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she replies, “I don’t ever get to throw baby showers and probably won’t ever again. Let me have my fun, will you?”

“You should listen to her,” a deep voice states from the doorway. “Clemonte parties are always memorable.”

He garners the attention of the entire room, and when I spin, I’m shocked to see a familiar face. It may have been a few weeks, but there’s no mistaking the Jersey Shore wannabe from the gym. Standing with his hands in his expensive suit pockets, he smirks at Blythe before his eyes flick over my head and narrow.

Taking a look over my shoulder, I see Murph with a hand on Thatcher’s forearm, restraining him.

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