William leaned back in his seat and rubbed Kelly’s neck affectionately. “I think we’ll discover something local that we can’t find here at home, and it’s going to suck.”
Mason laughed quietly. “I was just gonna say.”
“We checked an extra bag for a reason.” Kelly smirked at William, who chuckled.
“When’s your flight?” I wondered. They had a red-eye to New York, where they’d stop for a day and a half before continuing to Dublin.
Kelly checked his watch. “We start boarding in half an hour.”
“Thank God we upgraded for this trip, at least,” William muttered. “Kelly wanted to fly economy the whole way.”
I snickered. For me, it was a treat to fly business because of free wine and comfy seats. For the men, especially the Calvert men who were over six foot three—four, in Mason’s case—it was a matter of height.
“With extra legroom,” Kelly defended. “It’s insane to spend thousands of dollars extra just to be able to fuckin’ tap-dance in your seat.”
Mason and I cracked up at that.
William shook his head in amusement and kissed his hubby.
Then Mason pressed a kiss to the side of my head and indicated it was time for us to get a move on. We had to pick up our luggage and make our way to the parking lot. Ugh, then a two-hour drive home. Yeah, we had to get going.
“Well, I hope you will have an amazing few weeks in Europe, gentlemen,” I said. “And we will see you before…Thanksgiving, right?”
“Of course.” William nodded. “Dinner at our house as usual. But maybe you can check in with our son if he’s still bringing a plus-one. He’s been posting some cryptic things on his Instagram.”
Mason and I had noticed the posts too.
“I’ll talk to him,” I promised.
The next morning, Mason and I stepped into the future and got a glimpse of what it would be like to turn eighty. We were so damn tired. We took turns going to the bathroom, and then we mustered all our strength for a joint effort in scrambling together some breakfast we could have in bed. He found bread in the freezer that I slathered in butter and threw in a skillet while he got the paper. He made bacon—his one and only specialty in the kitchen, but damn, it was bacon worthy of the Queen’s approval. If she ate bacon. I didn’t know if she ate bacon.
I ate bacon.
Shredded cheese and two cracked eggs onto the bread slices, more butter, then some ground pepper.
I flipped the grilled sandwiches until they were golden brown, at which point Mason held out two plates.
“This is our exercise today,” he murmured drowsily.
“Agreed.”
When all was said and done, we loaded our breakfast onto the two gorgeous, dark cherrywood trays he had made for our first wedding anniversary and went back upstairs. “Mrs. Calvert” was carved into the surface of my breakfast tray. “Mr. Calvert” into his. I absolutely loved them, and the kids weren’t allowed to borrow them when they came home to visit.
“Sharon’s going to laugh at how out of shape I’ve become next spin class,” I mumbled, struggling to reach the last step. It was possible I hadn’t had a single workout in over a month. The fitness center had undergone renovations was my excuse, and I was sticking to it.
“Oh, right.” Mason remembered something. “Jim and I are going hunting next weekend. He’s bringing his eldest, and Tristan and Brady asked to come with me.”
“Sounds like fun, love.”
“It will be, until we get to the cabin and the kids make fun of the air beds Jim and I bought last year.”
I chuckled tiredly and carefully got situated in bed before I folded out the legs of the tray table. “I guess it’s not cool to be comfortable.”
“It’s not cool with backaches,” he muttered. “On that note, I think we should buy a boat next year. With actual beds in the cabin. I’ve been looking at some cuddys lately.”
“Okay, hon.” This was where I tuned out. He didn’t “think” we should buy a boat; he had already made his decision. Grabbing my iPad off the nightstand, I took a sip of my coffee and then set the tablet in its stand on the tray.
“So, you agree with me,” he stated. “Excellent. And you know Brady’s gonna love it.”
He definitely would. He used William and Kelly’s bowrider more than they did.
Every year, there was something. Our first summer, it was a big grill and a smoker. The next year, it was a hunting cabin Mason bought with Jim. No muss, no fuss. A single room with a fireplace, no furniture, but plenty of space to prepare the game they brought home. Last year, he “felt” I should have an off-road SUV, which meant he just wanted access to a second car without giving up his own, and apparently my little sedan wasn’t cutting it for him.
It did make me feel like a bit of a warrior turning up to Target in that vehicle, though.
This spring, he’d spent a small fortune on new fishing gear for the whole family. I supposed it made total sense that the boat was next.
“I’m not standing in the way of my husband and his shiny gadgets.”
“You’re a very smart woman, darlin’.”
I laughed and slid on my glasses. “All right, let’s reconnect with the world.” I bit into a piece of bacon and entered the password on the iPad. There were a few messages waiting. Katie had messaged to say she hoped our journey home had gone well. William informed us in the family group chat that they had landed in New York, and Aurora…
I squinted to reread, because that couldn’t be right.
“Oh, motherfucker,” I exclaimed, my heart suddenly pounding.
“What? What’s wrong?” Mason leaned over to read the message.
Mom, it’s possible I might be slightly pregnant.
“Slightly?!” Mason yelled.
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