“I’m fine,” I declare, sitting up to prove it. “I haven’t been throwing up. I just didn’t have much appetite today. My fault, really.”
Mom holds my hand. “You need to take care of yourself better.” Instead of just your husband is left unsaid, but I don’t need to hear the words to know what’s on her mind.
“Here.” Vanessa gives me a tall glass of pee-colored liquid. “Sports drink. Helps with hydration.”
“Thanks.” I smile at her, then at everyone else. See, I’m fine. I down the entire glass for their benefit, too. Thankfully, it doesn’t taste the way it looks.
“She should see an obstetrician,” the doctor says as she starts to pack up her things. “I’m sure you want nothing but the most expert care.”
An obstetrician? Oh lord. That makes the baby feel nine billion times more real than the result screens on the pregnancy test kits.
“You’ll take her to one tomorrow,” Barron says to Nate.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” I point out.
Barron looks at me like I’m slow. “And?”
“Doctors don’t work on Sundays.”
He gives a booming laugh. “My dear. They do for a Sterling baby.”
My shoulders sag with shock as the words sinks into me. A Sterling baby.
I make a mental note to follow Blanche’s child-rearing method and make sure my baby spends as little time as possible with Barron. Otherwise the kid’s going to end up as an insufferable and entitled little brat.
Barron turns to the others. “We need cigars and drinks! Justin, bring out your best.”
“Already done,” says a tall, handsome man in a carelessly cheery voice.
I squint, unsure if I’m seeing correctly. He looks remarkably like Ryder Reed. Actually, they look so alike, he could play Ryder Reed in movies.
He pours everyone—except me and the children—two fingers of something amber. Justin passes out cigars to the men, although Barron declares they shouldn’t really smoke around me for the health of the mother and the baby.
Nate takes his glass and sits next to me, holding my hand like the most devoted expectant dad. Someone hands me some ginger ale.
“To Nate and Evie. May their marriage be happy and everlasting. And thank you for making my wish come true.” Barron beams. “I really wanted another grandchild. Boy or girl, I don’t care which. Well, actually, I’d prefer a girl this time, as we already have two male baby Sterlings. Add a little balance. But that doesn’t mean I’ll love a boy any less…should it be a boy.”
I smile uncertainly, unsure if he’s trying to will me into having a girl to make himself happy or if he’s just rambling. We all toast, clinking glasses.
Nate starts to bring his drink to his lips, and I put a hand on his arm.
“What?” he says.
Now everyone’s looking at us. I sigh. It’s so hard to be the responsible adult in a relationship. He’s old enough to know he talks too much when he’s drunk. “You had at least three beers outside, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So. This is going to be your fourth drink. And hard liquor, too.”
Nate looks like he’s torn between laughing and crying, and now I feel like a party pooper. “I mean, maybe another is okay…if it’s no more than three sips?”
“Are you both giving up alcohol until the baby’s born?” Elizabeth asks.
“No. Um. I just didn’t want him to over-imbibe.”
The Ryder lookalike snorts. “He’s no Pryce, but the guy can hold his liquor. Probably better than anyone outside the family.”
What?