Keane scoffs. “Pfft. Nobody out-pretties our Pretty Boy.”
“Fuck you, Peen,” Ryan says. “I keep telling you: I’m not pretty, I’m ‘ruggedly handsome.’”
“Language,” Mom says. “Good lord, guys. You’re a bunch of sailors. Where did I go wrong? And don’t call Keane that name. It’s disgusting.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Ryan says. He addresses Keane again. “Effyou,Peenelope Cruz. How’s that, Mom?”
Dad belly laughs and Mom shoots him a scolding look.
“It’s funny,” Dad says sheepishly, still laughing.
“Well, I’m sorry Josh couldn’t make it this time,” Mom says, peeling her scolding eyes off Dad. “Please tell him he’s always welcome here. I’ll make my ‘legendary’ spaghetti for him whenever he’s able to come.”
“Thanks, I’ll tell him.”Right after I tell him I’m pregnant with your grandchild.
My eyes drift aimlessly around the table and finally land squarely on Colby’s ruggedly handsome face. He’s staring right at mewith flickering eyes, looking at me like he can see right through me—and the moment our eyes connect, my cheeks burst into flames.
“Sorry Josh couldn’t make it tonight,” Colby says evenly. “I know you were excited to introduce him.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” I manage to say, tears pricking my eyes. “Maybe another time.”
Colby holds my gaze for a long beat until finally shifting his attention to Dax.
“This cake is great, Dax,” Colby says. He rests one of his muscled forearms on the table. “Thanks for making it.”
“Actually, I was hoping the cake would put you in such a great mood, you’d let me borrow your truck tomorrow? I gotta haul some gear.”
Colby chuckles. “Sure. But only for a couple hours. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“And thanks for the spaghetti, Mom,” Colby says. “It was fantastic, as always.”
“You’re welcome, honey. I made extra sauce so you can take some home with you and put it in your freezer. The birthday boy always gets extras.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Can I have extras, too, Mom?” Keane says. “I’ve been living on Taco Bell.”
Mom laughs. “Yes, I made extras for you, too, Keaney—and also for Kitty Kat. It’s in the fridge with your names on it.”
“What about me?” Ryan says. “You’re not gonna give extras to your favorite kid?”
“You got extras last time,” Mom says. “I’ll make extras for you and Daxy next time. And, by the way, you’reallmy favorite kid.”
“Keane got extras last time,” Dax says. “He shouldn’t get ’em this time.”
“Hey, that’s right,” Ryan says. “And the time before that, too. Why does Keane always get extras?”
Mom grabs Keane’s hand. “Because Keane alwaysneedsthem.”
We all roll our eyes and Keane shoots us a “fuck you” look. “Thank you for understanding that, dearest mother,” Keane says, flashing a mega-watt smile. “You’re an exceptional caregiver to us all.”
We all roll our eyes again, even Dad.
Mom has obviously caught wind of all the eye-rolls going on around her. “Stop it, guys,” she says. “I know Keane’s a brown-noser—I’m not an idiot.”
Everyone bursts out laughing, even Keane.
