CHRIS
“Where the hell is it?” Fox searches her purse, pulling things out and dumping them on my kitchen counter. Lipstick rolls toward Franky’s elbow, his face buried in a book, while a homemade pizza sizzles in the oven behind me. “Did you see Aunty Fox’s pen, honey?” She slaps a stack of Post-its to the counter. “It was in my bag, but now I can’t find it.”
He clings to his pen, afraid she’ll take it. “Nope. I’ve got my own.”
“So where’s mine?” She dumps a box of tampons beside everything else, then a notebook and a small diary with wrinkled pages and dog-eared folds. “Why is this so difficult?”
“It’s just a pen, right?” I open my junk drawer and take out a spare. Blue. Boring. A perfect replacement for the one she lost. “Use this one.”
“But I need to findmine. It has my teeth marks on the cap.”
I set it on the counter and dig my hands into my pockets. “You want it backbecauseof the teeth marks? Why not accept a new one and chew it to match?”
“Why not just mind your damn business and help me findmypen?” Yet, she snatches up my offering, grips it between her teeth, and goes to work packing away her mess. “I bet this one doesn’t even feel good to write with. Comfortable pens matter, ya know?”
“You sound awfully cranky for achief happiness guru.”
Franky chokes out a silly giggle and hides within the pages of his book.
“Chief Happiness Officer,” she snarls. “It’s a real job.”
“So use the skills you made up to get that job and apply them to yourpen situation.” Smug, I turn and make myself busy checking on our dinner. “What do you need to write down? There are electronic devices for that stuff nowadays anyway.”
“I’m planning Alana’s baby shower, and I don’t have a bunch of time to get everything done.”
“What baby shower?” Closing the oven, I straighten out and peek over my shoulder. “Hazel’s already here. Showers are typically forbeforethe baby arrives, no?”
“Typically.” She flicks the cap off her new pen and whips open her notebook. “But Alana and Tommy aren’t really the ‘do things in the correct order’ kind of people, and if anyone wants to complain about celebrating Hazel’s existence, then I’ll introduce them to my fists.”
She’s cute. Fuck, she’s cute.
I set my elbows on the counter and wait for her eyes. “Ever thrown a jab before in your life?”
“Not recently. But I have an arm and ten knuckles. I figure throwing is throwing, and the rest will take care of itself. Also, we need a venue: we’re commandeering the gym for the party.”
“Uh, hold up.” I slap my hand over her notebook and earn a feral glare. “You’re planning a party? And you’re taking over my gym?”
“Tommy’s baby, Tommy’s portion of the gym.” She flicks my arm away and goes back to writing. “Your niece. I’m certain you’ll understand and realize sharing your portion of the gym will be okay.”
“It’s not so much about sharing anything and more about the fact you’re planning a party I had no clue existed three minutes ago.”
“Did Alana have a baby shower?” She glances at Franklin and arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “Did your mom have a party while Hazel was in her tummy, where people came and gave her gifts?”
Disinterested, he shakes his head. “No.”
“See?” She hits me with a look. “She’s hadtwobabies and no parties. She deserves this.”
“But she already has everything she needs. It’s not like she can fit three more cribs in Hazel’s room or another stroller in the trunk of her car. Tommy made damn sure she’s set.”
“It’s not about thethings. It’s aboutwhocelebrates with you. It’s about letting her experience something good in this podunk godforsaken town, and even if it pains me to know we’ll have to include the gossipy Judgy McJudgersons who hang around Main Street all day, I hold out hope that you and Tommy will know someotherpeople, too.”
“No, I?—”
“If you contribute nothing, and no one comes, and Alana feels unloved,especiallyafter everything that happened last time she lived here,” she looks into my fucking soul, narrowing her eyes to push her point home, “I’ll make sure you pay in an extremely painful way. If, for any reason, Alana Page is made to feel less than wonderful for this one day of her life, I’ll hurt you.”
“You’re mean.” I back away from the counter and switch the oven off.It’s time to eat.“You want a party? You can have a party. My gym, your gym.”
“That’s what I thought.” Snarling, she grabs the pen and goes back to jotting down her notes. “So now that Hazel is here, she’s a she, and we have a color scheme, we can talk about ordering a cake and decorations.”