Page 76 of Love is an Open Book
Turns out I didn’t get to be Sera’s teammate. The women in her family insisted she pair up with her husband, claiming it wasn’t right she be with anyone else, but I think the truth is they know he’s the weaker link and they want an easy path to victory.
I contemplated asking one of her cousins to team up with me, but figured Gavin might give me an edge since we know each other so well.
“No way Team Baby is losing this round.” Sera points at us. “Team Besties is going down.”
Gavin cringes, like he has every time she’s called us that, and I bite back a giggle. He’s so cute when he’s affronted. The name is awful, but I’m enjoying his reaction too much to mind.
“We’ll see about that,” I call. We’re three games in and so far, the matriarchs are dominating the competition, as expected. They matched the most baby socks in a minute—ten more pairs than any other team—and in a purse-and-pocket-emptying game, which seemed to be rigged in their favor, they won with a grand total of ninety items between them, not counting individual sticks of gum.
Next up is Cram the Stroller, devised by one of Sera’s friends who’s the mother of a toddler. The goal is to fill a stroller with as much baby gear as possible before the timer beeps.
Three games deep into this tournament, and the chalkboard bracket is taunting us youngsters. “Ready to take them down?” I ask my partner, who’s currently on his third mocktail. I don’t blame him, it’s hot out here despite the shade from a tall maple, and that’s not even counting the level of the competition.
He sets down his drink. “‘Them’ being a grandmother and Joe’s great-aunt?”
“Never underestimate a matriarch,” I tell him.
“You’re going down, Grandma,” Sera shouts, gathering her hair into a ponytail, and I raise my brows at Gavin. He holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
Joe is eyeing his wife with mingled admiration and fear. She notices him watching and blows him a kiss. My gaze connects with Gavin’s and we both roll our eyes, but the truth is I’m a bit jealous of their sanctioned displays of affection. Maybe I was wrong to keep our relationship under wraps.
Sera’s aunt whistles for everyone’s attention and I shake out my shoulders, bouncing on my toes. Sera follows suit, stretching her arms overhead and cracking her knuckles, even though she’s perched on an upholstered dining chair someone brought out from the house.
In unison, we settle forward, me in the crouched stance of a sprinter at the starting line, Sera sliding to the edge of her seat, ready for action.
“These two,” Joe says to Gavin.
“I know, right?” He shakes his head.
“Shh,” Sera says, at the same time as I flap my hand in his direction. “You’re going to make us miss the countdown.”
“Heaven forbid we get a late start,” Joe mumbles, and Sera gives him a quelling look.
“Get ready,” she says. “This challenge is all you.” Her doctor wants her to stay off her feet as much as possible.
“Take it easy,” he says, and kisses her on the forehead. “I got this.” He lowers into an exaggerated lunge that has the younger members of their families giggling.
That gives me an idea, and I grab Gavin’s hand, rising on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. This close, I notice a nick on his jaw from shaving—he had to get ready in a hurry—and barelycatch myself before I press a kiss to the spot. Team Besties is not going to use a party celebrating our friends’ long-awaited baby to reveal the change in our relationship status.
Just as I finish telling him my plan, Sera’s mom shouts, “Three, two, one, GO!”
I bend and grab a toy at random, tossing it into the stroller, but instead of helping, Gavin jogs over to the group of kids watching us make fools of ourselves. A moment later he comes back with two children who start throwing stuff into our stroller.
Joe glances over and does a double take. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“There’s no rule about how many people per team,” I call out, not pausing in my efforts.
The kids stick their tongues out at him. “Better hurry, Uncle Joe.”
“This is my baby shower, traitors,” Sera says, but she’s grinning.
Joe pauses, mouth downturned in an exaggerated pout. “Just yours?”
“Ours, babe.” She leans over and pecks him on the cheek. “Now hurry. Don’t let those cheaters win!”
The guests have caught on to what we’re doing, some cheering us on, others recruiting kids to join them. Soon it’s a free-for-all, with kids and adults alike rushing over to help their favorite team until everyone but Sera is in on the game.
In his rush to throw a sippy cup into the stroller, Gavin bumps me with his elbow, and I nudge him back playfully. “Same team, remember?”
