Page 60 of The Pocket Pair

When he smiles at me this time, slow and soft like we’re sharing a secret, I have to clutch the edge of the counter to stay upright.

“Same,” he says.

CHAPTER 18

Val

“Please explain to me what’s happening here,” I say.

“Which part?” Lindy asks with a chuckle, glancing beyond her fence where Pat and Jo are standing in the yard. Pat has a backwards spoon in his mouth and Jo is tossing pieces of chicken nugget into the grass.

“All of it, please.”

Lindy and I are rocking gently on the back porch swing of her newly finished house, snuggled into a fuzzy blanket. A far cry from the falling-apart home that used to exist on this same spot, the new house is perfect—thanks to Patrick Graham, who wouldn’t be satisfied unless the place was straight out of Lindy’s Pinterest board dreams. That man seems to be in a constant battle of one-upmanship with himself to spoil Lindy and Jo.

When Lindy called and begged me to be here for moral support when she tells Pat and Jo about the baby, I practically sprinted to my car. Chevy is helping me move my paintings to the studio a little later, so I had a tiny window of time. I wouldn’t want to miss this.

“Jo read some article about how crows are super smart and will keep coming back if you feed them. Sometimes they bring people gifts. Shiny things. I think she’s hoping for an entire charm bracelet.”

This is so perfectly Jo that I can’t help but grin. It’s also perfectly Pat. “A noble dream. Wait—crows eat chicken nuggets? Seems a little cannibalistic.”

“I know, right? They also eat peanuts, fruit, crackers, and, of all things, meatballs. Our grocery bill is going to get nuts.”

“And what’s Pat doing with the spoon?”

Lindy chuckles. “My dear, sweet husband is doing face yoga. He and Collin got some app that’s supposed to help with the elasticity in your face and prevent wrinkles.”

“Because that’s something Pat and Collin are worried about?”

“Apparently.”

“The crows make a lot more sense. Should we be doing face yoga?”

“Absolutely not,” Lindy says.

As we watch, Pat flexes his jaw, making the spoon bob up and down in his mouth. Lindy and I dissolve into a fit of giggles, and I pull the fuzzy blanket tighter around me. The sun is warm on my face and the temperatures have warmed slightly after the front blew in a few days ago, but I am ready for spring.

As if summoned by our conversation, three crows appear, swooping down into nearby trees. Jo throws the last few bits of food, and then she and Pat back away toward the house. After a moment, the birds hop forward, picking up pieces of nugget from the grass.

“Wow. They’re bigger than I expected.”

“Louder too,” Lindy says. “It’s such a total Jo and Pat thing.”

Pat slings an arm around Jo, and the movement scares the crows. They flap a little ways off, cawing in a way that sounds a whole lot like yelling. Pat backs up a few more feet, tugging Jo with him, and the birds cautiously return.

I bump Lindy’s shoulder with mine. “You know they’re going to lose their minds with happiness when you tell them, right?”

Lindy’s quiet for a moment. “It’s so weird. For years, I felt trapped—here in this house, this town, this life I didn’t choose. Even in small ways. Like, if I wanted ice cream in the middle of the night, I couldn’t just get in my car and go to the store. I had a little person who couldn’t be left alone. I mean, we’re talking pre-Door Dash days. Do you know what that’s like?”

I don’t. I mean, I do remember the pre-Door-Dash days. But I have absolutely no idea how it feels to suddenly be in charge of a whole other person, whether you can get ice cream delivered in the middle of the night or not.

I still feel kind of like a baby in comparison. I’ve had Mari to lean on rather than having to provide for myself. Much less providing for myself and a child.

“You’re kind of my hero, Linds.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me, Valley Girl.”

“You started it!”

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