“So, I spoke to Evie today. She wants everyone over for Sunday dinner this weekend.”
Owen laughs. “I feel like you and Mum speak more than she and I do.”
I casually lift a shoulder. “What can I say? We’re basically best friends.”
“Oh, trust me, I know.”
He turns, facing those deep ocean blue eyes at me. I poke my tongue out before rolling off the couch to sit next to him with Rosie. I have to shove all her toys and stuff out of the way as I go.
“Ugh, this flat never felt small before, but now it feels like I can’t do anything without stepping on toys or my leg smashing into the side of a table. Plus Rosie’s nearly four months, and all the books say she should be sleeping alone at six months. Where am I supposed to put her? The closet?” It’s a joke, but Jesus Lord, where else can she go?
Owen’s eyebrows draw together. “So are you thinking about moving?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I really should have given it more thought before she was born. What was I thinking—she and I would share a room forever?”
He places his free hand over mine. “If you want to move, I can help you look into that.”
I nod. “It’s just, this place has been home for so long. It was Mum and Dad’s and then it became mine. I would literally have to sell it to even entertain moving, and it’s been home for so long.”
Rosie starts to coo, getting back our attention. “So, what, you don’t want to sell? This is a great space. I’m sure you wouldn’t have a hard time.”
“I’ve been approached a few times to sell, but it just never felt right, and now having Rosie, I don’t know if being directly in London is the right choice for us in the long term. I mean, right now it’s fine, but when she’s five and wants to run around, I want her to have a home.”
“What about leasing then? If you’re not ready to sell this place, why not lease it out and you can find another place with Rosie, something bigger?”
I nod. “That’s a good point. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”
“You’ve still got time, Lottie. Rosie isn’t turning six months for another two months.”
“Oh God, even the thought of decluttering all this shit gives me anxiety.” I turn to Owen, face serious. “It may surprise you, Owen Bower, but I have a lot of junk.”
He bursts out laughing. “I’d never know,” he says, sarcasm dripping from every word. I playfully roll my eyes before turning back to my little girl, who is now fast asleep in his arms.
“Looks like someone was tired,” he says, motioning to her.
“That makes two of us.”
“Good thing I ordered Chinese food on the way over. It should be here in twenty, which means you can be in bed by seven thirty.”
I want to cry with joy. “You are a godsend!”
He just winks before standing up and taking Rosie into my bedroom. I silently follow him in and watch as he puts her into her baby sleeping bag with perfect care, not once stirring her from her sleep.
After he exits the bedroom, he pulls me into his arms.
“How about a proper hello?” I ask.
“Who could say no to that?” He grins before ducking his head and connecting his lips with my own. My hands go straight to his hair and pull him closer.
His tongue explores my mouth as I open for him, my teeth nipping at his lips. We stand there, getting overexcited for a few minutes before the buzzer goes off and Owen has to pull away.
“I’ll get it,” I tell him, trying to hide my laugh as I walk to the door.
Now that’s how you say hello.
“I can’t believe how much she’s growing up!” Evie smooshes the sides of Rosie’s cheeks, my little girl turning everyone around her into mush.
“I know, right? It seems like only yesterday I was pregnant.”
Evie pulls out another new toy she’s bought Rosie and shows it to her, her chubby fingers trying to grab the toy giraffe.
“I feel like I never see her enough. I really do need to reinstate this Sunday dinner to every Sunday.”
“I wouldn’t complain about that,” I joke, the smell of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the air. I got here early so Evie could have some one-on-one time with Rosie; I know once the other two girls get here, all bets are off.
“God, I can’t imagine how much your mum must miss her. We were speaking the other day, and I’m thinking of taking a little time off and visiting them in a few months.”
I can’t help but smile. “Mum would absolutely die if you came to visit her. I think she can get lonely at times in France; that’s probably why she travels so much.”
Before we can continue, the doorbell rings, signaling the first round of humans. Stana and Ali enter, and as predicted, Stana goes straight to Rosie and picks her up off the mat. Her frilly pink dress is bunched up around her thighs, but Stana is quick to fix it.
“I’ve missed you, Rosie,” Stana says in a baby voice, rubbing her nose against Rosie’s.
“What am I, chopped liver?” I tease, knowing I would have skipped over anyone for Rosie any day too.
“Sorry,” she replies, but her attention is still on the baby.
“Hey, Lottie,” Ali says, leaning in for a hug.
“Ali, how’s it going? Still keeping Saint Street running like a well-oiled machine?”
He chuckles. “Doing the best I can. Looking forward to the gig tonight.”
I beam, excited to finally have a night out of the house. Evie is going to look after Rosie for a few hours so I can go watch Owen and the band perform. Lord know it feels like years since I’ve gone anywhere that doesn’t involve a trip to the store to buy nappies or formula.
“Stana mentioned you’re gonna come?” he asks.
I
