Page 77 of Hearts on the Table
“What do you mean, you don’tdobirthdays?”
I glared at him, ignoring how cute he sounded, mimicking my inflection back to me. “I didn’t even bring a gift!”
“Didn’t you?” With that cryptic remark, he gave one last push that slid me into the dining room, handing Conner the bottle in his hands. “Happy birthday, brother. For you.”
“Thanks, Sammy. This is ni—holy shit!” His eyes widened, flickering from Sam to me. “This is too much.”
“Don’t drink it all at once.” Sam clapped his brother on the back, moving to greet Eli and June, who were orchestrating some sort of dinosaur/truck battle at the end of the table.
“Thank you, Lainey. I’m glad you could make it.” I snuck a peek at the bottle in his hand when Conner wrapped an arm around me. On the label, scrawled in Sam’s almost illegible script, it said, “35 for 35. Happy Birthday, from Sam & Lainey”
I didn’t know much about whiskey, but I got the feeling that a 35-year-old bottle was a pretty good one. I stared at that “& Lainey” a bit too long, its fresh black ink blending into the message I assumed Sam had penned earlier.
“I, uh, I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I know I wasn’t exactly invited.”
“Of course you’re invited.” Conner smiled down at me. “You’re family.”
I wasn’t, but I sure felt like it the longer I sat at the table, swapping jokes and listening to stories about Conner’s childhood. June and Jasmine had made enough food for an army. The table was loaded with lasagna, rolls, salad, and a horribly lumpy cake with enough neon blue frosting to be slightly off-putting.
Eli proudly informed us he’d helped decorate it. We all collectively spared a quick glance at each other before diving in, proclaiming how it was the most beautiful confection that had ever graced the planet.
Later, I attempted to make up for my unexpected presence by cleaning the kitchen with Sam and Will. Jas opened the screen door, and we watched Eli run around in the courtyard with an equally tireless June. Will and I chatted while Sam mostly listened in, adding his two cents when he felt like it.
The ringing of the doorbell sent Eli into a frenzy. He ran in from the yard yelling, “Genie’s here! Genie’s here!”
“Are we expecting someone else?” I watched as June followed, collecting her things from the patio table before she walked inside.
“Just my ride, dear. It was so lovely to see you.” June deposited a kiss on both her sons’ cheeks as an older man in a suit walked through the kitchen, carrying Eli on his shoulders.
“Happy birthday, Con. Hope it was a good one.” The man handed Conner an Al Green record before shaking his hand.
“Hey, thanks, Gene. I appreciate it. You sure you can’t stay for cake?”
“I demerated it!” Eli butt in, leaning over the man’s head to stare upside-down into his eyes.
The older man, Gene, widened his eyes, hamming it up as he circled what was left of the cake, ooh-ing and aah-ing. He introduced himself to me as “June’s fellow,” then whisked June out the door without ingesting any Smurf-blue frosting. Smart man. Sam and I made our own retreat shortly after.
“I didn’t know your mom had afellow.” I cuddled into Sam’s shoulder as we walked across the courtyard. The night was warm. The scent of earth, grass, and gardenias tickled my nose.
He grunted. “He’s a good guy. Been with my mom forever. Adores her, which I can’t fault.”
“Hmm. Why do you sound weird about that?”
He hauled me tighter when we walked up the few stairs to his back porch. The pads of his fingers rasped, raising goosebumps in their wake. “It’s just a little weird when you watch a parent get romantic with someone. Mom deserves to be happy. I’m glad she’s found a partner she loves.” He gave me a pained look while he locked the door behind us. “He calls her ‘blossom.’”
“Aw, because she’s a gardener. That’s cute.”
“Maybe for someone who’s not my mom. I don’t know. I’m not into pet names.”
I stopped in my tracks, cocking my head at him. “Could have fooled me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…there’s Sweetheart…” I traced the swirls in his countertop, watching him start the dishwasher. “I like that one quite a bit. Sometimes Honey, when you’re feeling extra sweet.”
“Those are endearments, not pet names. It’s not like blossom or muffin or—”
“Baby?”
