Page 106 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“Shit,” Donovan swore. “Baby, please don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” she wailed.
“It’s the hormones,” Emma told everyone, tears streaming down her own cheeks.
“I only told Eden,” Eva sobbed.
“You told Eden?” Donovan asked, all eyes flying to Eden.
Davis moved to stand next to her in case the mob got out of control.
“Huh? Oh, me?” she asked guiltily.
“That was just because I threw up in her hat stand! I had to explain!”
“Umbrella stand,” Eden corrected.
“Regardless of who knew and who didn’t,” Phoebe said, standing with only the slightest wine-induced wobble. “I think we can all agree that we’ve been blessed and that a new baby is nothing but wonderful news.”
Now, Donovan was tearing up and swallowing hard.
“We have a whole new generation who will grow up here running wild,” Carter said, clearing his throat at the emotion that had lodged there. “What more could there be to life?”
“Your father would be so proud of all you boys,” Franklin said, raising his glass. “You too, Donovan.”
Beckett nodded silently, pulling Gia into his chest.
“What the hell is wrong with everyone?” Joey demanded wiping her eye on the back of her sleeve. “Can we at least eat before the hysterics start?”
Donovan swiped away Eva’s tears.
Phoebe raised her glass and slipped her free arm into Franklin’s. “I’d like to propose a toast. To family.”
“To family,” they echoed.
Davis felt a little tickle at the back of his throat and noticed that Eden’s eyes were a little misty. He hip-checked her gently, and she gave him a watery smile.
Maybe there was something to be said for a big, sloppy family holiday? Maybe there was something more than balance sheets and grapes and marketing initiatives.
Maybe plantings and harvests were only the beginning.
41
The walk from the farmhouse to Phoebe and Franklin’s home was slower and punctuated by the moans of the overfed. Even the dogs and kids were moving at a snail’s pace. Meatball gave a lazy bark as Waffles trotted in slow motion in front of him.
Meadow stopped where she was on the path and held her arms up to her Uncle Jax. “No more walking,” she insisted. Not to be outdone, Jonathan threw himself on Donovan’s mercy.
Jax settled the toddler on his shoulders with only a small groan.
It was getting dark. They were long past their 4 p.m. estimate. But they couldn’t very well skip out on dessert. It would be rude. And very, very smart.
“If one more thing goes in my mouth, I’m going to throw up all of my internal organs,” Eden announced to Davis.
He squeezed her hand, and she realized how right it felt to have his fingers twined with hers, just as their shared suffering twined together.
Davis gave a sad shake of his head. “I’ve never eaten so much in my entire life. That’s more than I usually eat in a week. I think I’m just going to lay down in this field and wait for birds to eat me. My carcass will feed them for the entire winter,” he predicted.
Eden laughed and then clutched her stomach. “Please, don’t make me do that again. I almost threw up.”
