Pretty Hurts (Left 1.50)

“Excited?” Edgar asks with a laugh.

“Yes, I’m dying to know what she’s having,” I state.

“She really didn’t tell you?”

“No, the wench did not.”

He snorts a laugh. “How dare she?”

“I know, right?” I wrinkle my nose as I frown, and we make our way up to the door. He knocks. A few moments later Houston answers the door all grins.

“Hey, guys, come on in.” His gaze lingers on my bald head and he pulls me in for a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Houston,” I reply sincerely. Without him, I wouldn’t have my Edgar.

He releases me and does a manly hug with Edgar as I scan the room. “Where’s the woman of the hour?”

“Out back.”

“I’m going to go snag her and see where she wants me to get started,” I say, leaving the men as they begin to talk about Edgar’s latest brew. I slip out the sliding door.

“Honey, I’m home,” I call.

She looks up from her seat where she’s watching the triplets and grins.

“Aunt Efia!” they chime, running over for their hugs. It’s insane that they reach my hip now. I remember when they were small enough to hold in my arms. I give them a hearty squeeze.

“Hi, guys.” I laugh as they return to their playing.

“You’re here.” Liv rises. I take in her burgeoning belly in the stylish, off-the-shoulder turquoise dress that trails around her feet and makes her skin tone flawless.

“You look incredible,” I exclaim, rushing forward to hug her.

“Thank you. Oh my gosh. You know you didn’t have to get me anything else,” she says with a huff.

I laugh. “What can I say? I’m that aunt.”

“Yes you are, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Where’s your other half?”

“Talking beer with Houston.”

“Ahh. Makes sense. You want to put the bag on the table over there? It’s for presents.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I drop the gift off and return to her side. “What do you want me to do first?”

“We can hang up the decorations.”

“No, I can. You can rest your feet and direct me.”

She huffs, but plops in to her chair. At the start of her eighth month, she’s reaching the uncomfortable stage.

“All the decorations are on the table. I figured we’d hang them up in alternating pink and blue.”

“Done,” I say, seeing Houston had done most of the work. I’m just filling in a few gaps and doing the floral arrangements. I quickly hang the pink and blue paper lanterns and return to help her with the mason jars they painted pink and blue.

“Since you can do this sitting, you can assist me,” I say as she laughs.

“Gee. Thanks.”