Helen appeared at the table, two ginger ales at the ready. “Oh calm down, kid. You knew the day was coming.” She slid their glasses across the table and put her hands on her hips. “I’m approximately three hundred years old, and eventually I’d like to put my feet up.”
“But no one takes care of us like you do, Helen,” Alice protested, swigging from her drink.
Helen leaned in and winked. “Don’t tell anyone, but there are these people called waitresses. Max can hire someone a third my age and you’ll get your meals before they’ve had a chance to cool.”
“Well, I’m still going to pout about it.” Alice stuck her tongue out and fell back in her seat. James covered his grin with his menu, intent on avoiding his wife’s mood.
“Pout all you want, kid. I’m looking forward to enjoying my golden years without being on my feet and using Icy Hot all the damned time.” Helen stretched her back and the sound of her bones popping echoed throughout the dining room. James couldn’t hide his grimace.
Alice slapped her menu closed and crossed her arms. “But who will take care of us when we’re here? No one knows how I like my eggs or how James like his...” She trailed off, the wind leaving her sails.
James lifted an eyebrow and suggested, “Steak?”
“Yes! How James likes his steaks.” Alice snapped her fingers triumphantly.
Helen muttered something under her breath and tucked her pencil behind her ear. “Over easy and medium rare.”
Alice pointed at the older woman, and said, “This is why we need you.”
Helen leaned in again, and whispered, “Just pretend you’re at any other restaurant the next time you’re back. I’m guessing most waitresses don’t memorize every patron’s order.”
“Exactly! That’s why we come here.” Alice slapped her hand on the tabletop.
“I thought you came here for the fabulous food and time with your bestie,” Mallory quipped from behind Helen. She was clad in winter gear, pair of braids spilling out from under her wool cap. Maybelle was tucked against her chest, her plump cheeks rosy from the cold.
The sound Alice emitted could have broken glass. Helen winced and backed away like she we being robbed. James shook his head, already attuned to his wife’s sound effects. “Mal!” Alice scrambled from the booth and pulled her friend into a hug, careful of the baby. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” she stage-whispered. “Is this her?”
Beckett joined them, weighed down with the carrier and diaper bag. “No, it’s a stunt baby we picked up for outings.”
Alice pointed at him and laughed. “Nice try. I can see her puff of red hair from here.”
At her friend’s words, Mallory frowned. “I think it’s getting darker every day.” She peeled off Maybelle’s tiny little beany, showing off a shock of strawberry blonde curls.
James stood, joining the group and leaning down to see little Maybelle. “She’s cuter than I remember.” He clapped Beckett on the shoulder. “Congratulations, she’s a doll.”
“Thanks, man.” The tips of Beckett’s ears turned red, but the loving smile he gave his wife and daughter could have melted the paint from the walls. The guy was a ball of love.
Before James could offer the other side of their booth to their friends, Alice shoved her coat and purse away and waved down Helen for a highchair. “Helen, we need you, please!”
The older woman came back with drinks for the young parents and a highchair for Maybelle. “Get this out of your system, kid. Most people don’t find you as charming as I do.” She poked the baby in her belly and sauntered off, leaving Beckett to set up a place for his daughter.
“So, how have things been?” James asked, tugging Alice into the booth so Mallory could sit. Excitement radiated from the two women, as they tittered on about everything and nothing.
Beckett, as well accustomed to Mallory and Alice’s hijinks, settled into his side of the booth and drank from his water before answering. “Short answer, fabulous. Slightly longer answer, exhausting, terrifying, and exciting.”
James rubbed his chin. “I can only imagine.”
Just as Beckett opened his mouth to say something, Maybelle spit up all over her blue snowflake onesie. “And this is why I packed four outfits for a two-hour sojourn.”
Alice grimaced, pointing to Maybelle as she waved her tiny arms in the air. “Is that normal?”
Mallory scoffed. “This is actually light. You should have seen the mess she made at Ev and CeCe’s place yesterday. They’ll be washing puke out of that blanket until their own babies arrive.”
James smiled sympathetically. “Sounds like we almost missed the Buckeye Falls Baby Boom,” he quipped.
“I wouldn’t say we missed it,” Alice retorted, winking at her husband.
Despite their love for their nieces, nephews and friends’ children, the only titles Alice and James were interested in wereaunt, uncle, artist, writer, husband, and wife.The child-free discussion happened long before they got married, and Alice and James were happy with their choices. As much as their friends wanted children was as much as Alice and James wanted their careers and travel. Everyone was where they were supposed to be, and that was a comforting notion.
