“You knew my uncle Remy when you were in high school,” Lex says, but it’s not a question. “I saw you guys in his yearbook. Is this your baby, Izzy?” she asks, a true question this time, as she stands on her tippy-toes to peek at the baby in Maria’s arms.
“Lexi, this is Izzy. Izzy, this is my niece, Lexi.”
Lexi’s smile nearly consumes her face as she gazes at a now-sleeping Izzy, and I swear, it pulls at my heartstrings like a motherfucker.
“She’s so tiny. And cute.”
“That she is,” I agree.
After a few quiet moments of staring at Izzy, Lexi’s gaze homes in on Maria and me again. Her brow is furrowed as she glances between us, but whatever she’s thinking, whatever she’s about to say, is stopped in its tracks by my mother’s voice.
“Come on, guys! Time to get your grub on!” my mom shouts over the din of several conversations. “Appetizers in the living room!”
“Gotta go!” Lex says, her mind now focused on the food.
Which, comically, is a lot like her uncle Ty. The call of appetizers is all he needs to hear to grab Rachel and head in the direction of the living room, stopping briefly at the back door to shout for Howard, Wes, and Jude on the back deck.
Winnie, my mom, Sophie, and Daisy grab the last few dishes filled with appetizers and follow. And Flynn brings up the rear with a giggling twin in each arm.
“Here,” I prompt Maria, reaching for Izzy. “Let me take her. That way, you can eat.”
“What about you?” she protests. “Aren’t you hungry?”
I shake my head. “I can wait. I was grazing a little before you got here until I got slapped out of the way.”
Maria laughs. “Ah, I see.”
I grab Izzy underneath the armpits and pull her close to my chest, shooing Maria in the direction of the living room. “Go on. You know how the Winslows are. You need to get in there before the locusts destroy it all.”
“Says the man who was eating it before it was even ready.”
“Exactly, Ria. They’re worse than me, and that’s saying something.”
She giggles again, finally skirting past me and heading into the living room after the crowd. I follow behind with Izzy in my arms. She’s still calm, but her eyes are slightly open, and I give her a conspiratorial look, asking her to keep my secret as I stare at Maria’s ass unabashedly.
It’s round and thick and makes the perfect heart shape in her skinny-style jeans. Fuck me, she’s sexy.
Izzy coos a little and wiggles, and I’m convinced she’s trying to spill the beans. I hold her closer and whisper softly in her ear. “Come on, Iz. Don’t rat me out. We don’t want to scare her off.” I change my accent to my best version of an Australian in the Irwin family. “She’s a flighty bird, right? Gotta be extra careful with this one, mate.”
Izzy just stares at me, in the way that she does when she’s content and trying to understand the world around her. It might be because of the funny change in my voice, but I like to think it’s because she understands exactly what I’m saying and agrees.
By the time we make it into the living room, three-quarters of the food is gone, and Howard is full swing into his infamous word association game. No doubt, Ty’s put him up to it again.
I take a seat on the arm of the couch with Iz, keeping one eye to Maria as she grabs a plate at the end of the TV table and starts to fill it up with food.
“Yard,” Howard says, to which Rachel immediately replies, “Work.”
Flynn laughs the loudest, remarking ironically, “I guess we never have to worry about Ty and Rachel moving out of the city.”
His face is relaxed and bright, and I’ll be damned if he isn’t a completely different man from the one I knew before Daisy. He’s still quiet, sure, but he’s also lighter and quicker to laugh. He’s happy. It’s written all over him.
Maria surprises me by holding a plate out in front of me, filled with all my favorite foods.
“What’s this?” I ask in a stupid whisper.
She laughs softly before sitting down next to me. “I fixed you a plate so you don’t miss out.” She mimes what I imagine is supposed to be a locust, and I smile so big my face hurts.
“Hotel,” Howard prompts Rachel, everyone eagerly paying attention other than me. I’m focused on the fall of Maria’s hair as she looks down at her plate and picks up a mini quiche.
“Carlyle,” Rachel responds in the background, and I have to admit, even without my focus, just the sound of that word makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.