Page 8 of Love, Luck & Clusterf*ck

A little extra luck never hurt anyone.

“Been bitten by the baby bug yet?”

“What?” I stacked another bright red block on my tower, causing it to crash to the ground. Emily clapped and laughed like it was the best thing ever. I smiled along with her.

“Hasn’t that little girl convinced you by now to finally settle down and start a family of your own?” my sister said. “After you’re married, of course.”

She had to throw that last part in.Of course.

Christa choked on her lemonade, and I had to reach over and whack her on the back. “Perry married? Good one, Sam,” she said after her coughing fit was over. Emily also thought that was hilarious and redoubled her laughing efforts.

I looked away from my sister’s frown and watched my adorable niece toddle over to pick up a fallen block. She’d just learned to walk and it was awesome. I couldn’t wait to see what she accomplishednext.

“As perfect and amazing as she is,” I said, “I’m just fine living vicariously through you right now. Well, for the most part.”

I heard her sigh. I’d had to toss in my own little caveat at the end as well. It was no secret that I didn’t care much for the man she called her husband. Emily’s father. Being married was bad enough, but tohim? Ugh.

“It’s ridiculous how you insist on clinging to a derogatory view of something you’ve never experienced.”

I shrugged. This was just one of the many things Sam and I would never be in agreement on. We were both raised by the same parents and turned out completely differently. I never wanted to get married. She couldn’t get married fast enough.

“Oh fu—”

I swung my head over to Christa and narrowed my eyes. She didn’t notice me because her head was down digging around in her purse. Luckily, she remembered to censor herself.

“Fudgsicle,” she said instead, glancing up at me. We both worked hard to tame our mouth around Emily. Sam couldn’t understand why it even took an effort, but why would she? She didn’t swear. Ever. “Do you have any tampons or anything? I feel like I’m going to get my period any second and I’m out.”

“Sure.” I tossed her my bag and she stood up.

“Thanks.”

We all turned our heads when the front door opened and Paul stepped inside. Sam went over to greet him, and Emily said, “Dada,” but quickly focused back on her blocks, knocking them around. After my stack fell over, she must’ve decided they were much more fun to look at. I didn’t blame her.

Christa bent down and hissed in my ear. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be here.”

Yeah, she didn’t like him either. I usually scheduled my visitsaround the times I didn’t expect to see him, but that didn’t always work out. After all, he did live there, unfortunately. When I’d asked Christa if she wanted to tag along, that had been her first question. “Will Dickhead be there?”

“Sorry, didn’t think so,” I whispered back.

“I didn’t think we were expecting company, Samantha.” The dickhead looked at us. “Perry.” He nodded. “Christa.” His eyes lingered on her much longer. She wrinkled her nose and headed to the bathroom.

“Hey,” I said. I did my best to keep things civil for Emily’s sake. If that baby girl weren’t a factor, I’d be searching the kitchen for ice picks. How could my sister not notice this shit going on right in front of her face?

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home this early,” Sam said.

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then swooped up his daughter for a hug. “Finished sooner than I thought.”Yeah, I bet you did. He set Emily down and she crawled over into my lap. I kissed the top of her strawberry-colored head.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him. “Can I make you anything to eat?”

“No, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll leave you girls to visit.”

“Okay.” Sam gave him a smile and then sat back across from me. Her expression dared me to make a comment. Just because I was thinking that he was a scumbag cheater who had to go wash another woman’s stench off his body didn’t mean I had to say it out loud. Sam knew how I felt, the stories I’d heard. But until I had definitive proof, she wouldn’t take me seriously. What I called denial, she called trust. Blech. I threw up in my mouth thinking about how he’d turned her into a wife-sized doormat.

“What?” I said.

“Don’t say anything, Perry.”

“Do you hear me saying anything?”

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