Dee: Cabbage, check. I’m guessing those milk makers are working overtime. And mouth guard, that’s probably frowned upon until at least six months . . .
Skye: What about numbing cream then? Is that a thing? Like maybe the stuff that is supposed to prolong orgasm. Would that work?
Dee: On your nipples? Um . . . NO.
Faith: God I don’t envy you. Those first six weeks of nursing were SO much fun. I swear my nips are permanently deformed after my two milk demons
Dee: It’s also probably frowned upon to call your children demons.
Gilly: Oh no, demons definitely works.
Renee: Just saying, you ladies are TOTALLY making motherhood sound fantastic.
Skye: It’s all good until you squirt your husband in the eye and almost blind him.
Gilly: Hey, some men like that. Breast milk, I mean. Or being squirted on. Wait . . .that doesn’t sound right.
Faith: Eww. That’s our brother you’re talking about.
Dee: We’re close, but not THAT close. Haha.
Gilly: Skye, lanolin cream and nipple shields. Maybe Dee can get you some on the way over.
Dee: Now THAT I can do. Any other requests?
Skye: My brain back? This morning I put the laundry in the dishwasher and poured my freshly brewed decaf down the sink before I’d even had a sip. Then I cried about it.
Faith: I shouldn’t laugh, but that’s funny.
Skye: Cohen laughed too until I threatened a home vasectomy and suddenly he was my perfect husband again.
Dee: If it helps, it does get better.
Skye: I hear you make a pretty mean lava cake. That would make me feel better.
I laugh, earning a puzzled look from Harvey.
Dee: I’ll see what I can do. See you soon.
Gilly: If you’re delivering desserts, your favorite sister-in-law is also a fan.
Dee: You’re my only sister-in-law
Gilly: Therefore I’m your favorite.
Faith: Sisters rank higher, and I have a three-year-old who loves to see her Aunty Dee.
Dee: Let’s see if I can sweet-talk Rhodes into making a few pit stops.
Skye: Do what you have to do, Dee. Take one from Rhodes for the team.
Faith: Not sure Dee sees that as a hardship.
Renee: Rhodes does seem to be very ‘happy’ these days.
Dee: Not talking about it with my kid next to me.
Gilly: It’s okay. We’ll wait till Rhodes’s birthday party to get the details.
Wait . . . what?
Dee: Please tell me I’ve missed a memo somewhere. Rhodes is having a birthday party? How do I not know this?
Renee: Oh shit.
Gilly: I’m sure he’ll tell you.
Faith: It’s supposed to be a surprise. Maybe he doesn’t know about it?
Renee: He knows. His father-in-law let it slip a few weeks back.
A few weeks? Father-in-law? Then it clicks. Lily’s dad. Lily’s parents will be there. Maybe that’s why. I mean, I get it. I can’t imagine inviting Rhodes to an event with Flynn’s parents. Although, I also can’t imagine not at least mentioning it.
“Mom? You just went stiff.” Harvey sits upright and looks at me.
I school my confused frown and smile at my son. “I was surprised, that’s all.”
“Ooh. I like surprises. Well, except if they’re for me. Then I wanna know what it is.”
“I know that ’cause you always try to peek at Christmas presents, don’t you?” I lean and tickle him, laughing as his squeals fill the air.
“Now, Mom has to call the restaurant and put in a few dessert orders for Aunty Faith and Gilly. Do you wanna run to your room and make sure you have everything packed for when Rhodes and I drop you off at Nana and Pop’s place?”
“Yep.” He jumps to his feet and kisses me before running away.
I turn back to my phone.
Renee: Dee, I know he’ll invite you. That man is in so deep I doubt he’ll ever wanna come up for air.
Gilly: Seriously, Dee.
Dee: I didn’t even know it was his birthday soon.
Skye: Probably ’cause you don’t show each other your birthday certificates before jumping into bed.
Dee: I should’ve known though. What kind of girlfriend doesn’t know when her man’s birthday is . . . and it’s FORTY. That’s a big one.
Faith: Ask him when you see him. He probably had a man moment and assumed you’d be there anyway.
Okay. That I can do. Honesty policy rules apply. Just ask, communicate, clear up any confusion, and then go from there. Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
Skye: And if he makes you sad, tell him he gets no more cooking—or cookie—from you.
Skye: Sorry. Ignore me. I’m hormonal, horny, and helplessly leaking breast milk everywhere. I’m a hot mess of a dairy farm.
Faith: Oh my god, Skye. Now all I can imagine is you turning into a fembot and squirting milk out of your norks like a lethal weapon.
Gilly: Thanks for that visual, now Ez is looking at me strangely.
Dee: Tell him to be nice to his wife, otherwise Faith and I will beat him up like we used to do. Okay, ladies. Thanks for the entertainment. See you soon, Skye.
Skye: Don’t forget the cake!
“Those two are naturals,” Rhodes says as we pull out of Cohen and Skye’s street after a short visit. By the time we’d run all our errands and got there, baby Austin had just woken up.
“Yeah. I remember being freaked the fuck out when I first brought Harvey home. And Flynn was starting his internship, so he knew stuff but not the stuff you need to know.”
Rhodes laughs. “Yep. The hands-on stuff you can never learn beforehand, because babies don’t come with instruction manuals.”
In the comfortable silence that falls between us, I contemplate whether I’d actually want to go through the newborn stage again. There comes a point where you pass the constant dependency age and it seems like there’s a sliver of light at the end of the parenting tunnel.
Rhodes reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’re thinking really hard about something over there. Wanna share with the class?”
I turn my body toward his as much as my seat belt will allow and study him. “Would you ever want more kids?” I blurt out. Rhodes’s head jerks, his eyes
