I scribbled a note in my planner. “I’ll tell the bakery. Only other thing might be the breakfast stuff I was going to put in the fridge, but I’ll verify when I’m at the office tomorrow.”
Molly sighed. “I can’t believe she’s going to be forty.”
Paige pushed her bottom lip out. “Does this mean I’m old now?”
“No,” Molly and I said in unison.
Paige shook her head. “There’s no avoiding it. Two of you girls are in the forty and over bracket. I have a million grandkids.”
“Eight, but whatever,” Molly said.
Paige ignored her. “I have gray hairs that I have to color with regularity, and Emmett is an actual grown-ass man who will probably, maybe, hopefully add to that grandkid roster someday.”
Oh, okay.
My entire heart lurched painfully when she tossed his name into the conversation like that.
Emmett as a dad.
It was almost too much to think about. My ovaries screamed—somewhere deep in the place where ovaries existed—to be the one providing said babies.
If I thought it was bad before, when I was avoiding news stories and not looking at pictures, my brain was suddenly filled with a technicolor image of how he’d be with kids.
My whole body melted.
I might have made a whimpering noise.
Molly gave a look, and I cleared my throat, sitting up straighter in my chair.
“You’re not old,” I told Paige. “If I have half your energy when I’m your age, I’ll be thrilled. I’m not sure I have half your energy now.”
Paige smiled. “You work a lot more hours than I do, cupcake. And when you’re not working, you’re back home.”
I managed a smile of my own. “I know.”
“Did Tim get his tests back yet?” Molly asked quietly.
My chest felt heavy as I shook my head, the back of my neck tight with tension I’d carried all week. “They know something isn’t right. The tumor in his lungs is the same size, but they’re trying to figure out if his cancer metastasized somewhere else.”
“I’m sorry, Adaline,” Paige said, leaning forward to cover my hand with hers. “If there’s anything we can do to help, you just say the word, okay?”
I nodded. Molly gave me an understanding smile. Of all the things I was bad at—and there was a list—asking for help was just about at the top. I was the one who helped people, not the other way around. It was my job to anticipate needs, and I was good at it.
“Thank you, Paige.”
She let out a deep breath. “Okay. What next?”
I flipped to another page in the binder. “Let’s finalize the schedule. You’re sure Isabel has no idea?”
Molly nodded. “She thinks it’ll be a regular party. Just like we planned.”
Paige’s smile was so very conniving. “It’s evil genius. Make her suffer, thinking she’ll be the center of this giant event.”
“She’ll like this more, for sure,” I said. “A weekend up at the beach house with you guys is perfect. I’ll have everything set up and ready to go when you arrive.”
Molly scribbled something in her binder. “You think a day is enough for you to get everything set up?”
I nodded. “Should be. And all the spouses will be able to join you guys for dinner the last night?”
Paige gave me a thumbs-up. “Yup.”