Page 91 of Good as Gold
He’s solid, my brother. He was quick to get over his anger at me this spring. And he’s been quick to show gratitude for all my help with the family businesses.
I have no idea what he’d think about my project with Leila, though. Hell—I barely know what to think about it myself. Right from the start, she’d said there’d be no strings attached.
But I didn’t count on two things. One—that it would break my heart. When I get on that plane tomorrow, it’s gonna ache.
And two—that it wouldn’t work.
Our third smiley face came and went (so to speak) in July. And our final one was just a few days ago. Her job will make it difficult for her to visit me this fall. And late November seems like a long way away…
“Matteo?”
I look up to find Skye is speaking to me. “What? Sorry.”
She smiles. “I asked what you wanted to drink. I’m taking orders.” She points toward the house.
“Let me help,” I say. “I’ll bring out beers for all these hooligans.”
“All right,” she says. “Thanks.”
I follow her into the house, where Zara is mixing a bowl of potato salad. “Matteo—can you carry this out to the table? And Skye—can you grab the deviled eggs out of the fridge?”
“Sure.” Skye opens the refrigerator and retrieves a platter. She removes the foil from it and then—
I watch in confusion as her expression changes to revulsion. Then she abruptly runs from the room.
A moment later I hear the sound of retching, followed by a toilet flush. “What the…?”
When I glance at my sister, she’s wearing a cat-like smile. “Noway,” she says. Then she laughs.
For a second I’m lost, because that’s not a very polite reaction when someone throws up. Then she says, “Some women can’t stand the scent of eggs when they’re pregnant.”
“Oh,” I say slowly.
Oh.
I carry the offending eggs outside, along with the potato salad. When I return to the kitchen, Zara and Skye are having a whispered conversation. They step apart when they see me, and Skye gives me a startled look.
“Hey, I didn’t notice anything,” I say, raising my hands. “I’m a vault.”
“We’re keeping it quiet,” she says. “For another week, anyway, until I hit the three-month mark.”
“I’ll just need a video of the moment you tell our mom,” Zara says with a chuckle. “She’ll besoexcited.”
They continue their chatter. Numbly, I remove some beers from the fridge and carry them out the back door. Outside, my youngest brother is pulling kebabs off the grill and laughing over something Damien said.
This whole day looks different to me now. The fence makes more sense. Next summer they’ll have a newborn baby and not much time for yard work. And a year after that, a toddler might take her first steps in this newly fenced-off space.
And Ben looksecstatic. Like a man with everything he ever wanted.
I pass out beers, which is practically an automatic reflex at this point. When I reach Ben, I touch him lightly on the shoulder blade. “Hey, man. Congrats.”
He blinks at me in surprise, and then his smile drops as he glances toward the house. “Did Skye get sick again?” he asks quietly.
I nod. “Yeah, but she’s okay. The deviled eggs set her off.”
“Ah.” He flashes me a nervous smile. “It’s still early, and we don’t know what to expect. The whole thing was kind of a first-try situation.”
I whistle quietly. “Nice job, stud.”
