Kit steps forward, and the look on his face is different from the one I saw there when we woke up together this morning. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. We haven’t talked more about this since I informed him that both Brooks and I would be here today. That was a week ago, and we’ve spent the last seven days unable to keep our hands off each other.
His mood shifted late last night, and although I don’t regret the roughness he touched me with after the sun went down, I knew why he was doing it. Being here, watching me interact with his family without telling them that I’m carrying his baby, pisses him off, and it should. He’s not the type of man to take a step back, and let someone else step into the role meant for him.
I beg him with my eyes not to say a word.
He inches closer, wrapping me in a platonic hug, one that’s too formal, over too quickly. “It’s good to see you again.”
I nod, dropping my eyes to the floor so I don’t have to witness his pain.
“How’s it going, man?” Kit turns to Brooks, giving him a quick hug as well.
“Good, good,” Brooks says as they step apart.
As covertly as I can manage, I look around the room to see if anyone is wondering about the weird behavior. Kit never hugs Brooks. I mean I guess he would if they didn’t see each other every damned day, and it makes me wonder what he’s playing at right now. Is he inviting questions? Hoping that his family notices the oddity of how he’s acting so he can force them to ask for the truth?
Anders and then Gannon both walk over and greet us, their decision made on how to deal with this situation made easy by the way Kit reacted.
I smile at both of them as they step back from hugging me. Even more of the light drains from Brooks’s eyes when Gannon claps him on the back with a quick, “Hey there, Dad.”
I can’t look at Kit when this happens.
“Everything is ready. We’ve just been waiting on the two of you,” Marjorie says as she directs us all into the dining room.
We take our seats, everyone chattering about their recent life events, and I studiously keep my attention on Gannon’s wife, Paula, as she helps the younger kids get settled in for the meal.
“Have you discussed names?” Marjorie asks as she passes a huge bowl of green beans to her left, starting the rotation of all the food she’s prepared.
“We haven’t,” I answer. “It’s a little too soon.”
“It’s not,” Becca interjects.
Jason chuckles at his wife’s response. “Better start now because there will be arguments.”
“I still hate the name Thaddeus,” Becca mutters, side-eyeing her husband.
“Thad is a great name,” Jason says, and I smile at knowing they’ve had this ridiculous argument numerous times. Their three boys are older and in high school and junior high already, but it seems this battle is still going on despite them being finished having kids.
“Thad is a douchey name,” Becca says, gaining an echo of agreement from others at the table.
“I like it,” Walter agrees with Jason.
“Men,” Marjorie says with a smile and a quick shake of her head.
I smile at her, siding with the woman without really giving her my opinion.
Conversation switches gears numerous times throughout the meal, and as always we run the gamut between work, the kids, and sports. Walter and Jason try to open up the topic of politics, but Marjorie shuts that down immediately, reminding her husband that the topic is off-limits at her table.
I keep my eyes on my plate, only really engaging in conversation if I’m directly asked a question. I can’t bear to see Kit right now even though I long for him to be the one sitting beside me instead of the cold rolling off Brooks despite the fake happiness in his tone as he engages with everyone.
“No offense, Brooks,” Walter says when there’s a lull in conversation, and I stiffen, wondering just what is going to come out of this man’s mouth. Walter has never been the type to hold his tongue when he has something to say. “But I have to say I was hoping that Jules would’ve ended up with one of my sons.”
I freeze, my chest constricting at the implication. This could easily turn in to Kit saying something like, funny you should say that, Dad.
“Wow,” Becca says when Anders’s wife, Cadie says, “Seriously?”
“The last available son,” Beth reminds her dad, and the way she says it makes me cringe because it’s marked with a hint of disgust, as if that happening is the worst possible choice.
“That would be inappropriate,” Kit says, and I know he purposely enunciated it a way that’s a jab at my lies.