Hold Tight (For You 2)

“Don’t hop, krasota,” her husband, Ivan, says, standing a few feet behind her.

Penelope rolls her eyes as her hand goes to her belly. She rubs it in such a sweet, mothering way.

“What are you doing?” I ask, like I don’t know the answer. She knows something is up with me. It’s like some weird twin thing we share. It’s always been there, and it always will be. But sometimes I’d like a little emotional privacy from her.

“Well, what I’m not doing is giving you these.” She holds up a white bag like she has victory in her hands.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Are those what I think they are?”

For a second I contemplate snatching the bag from her, but she turns, tossing the bag to Ivan, who easily catches it. Stupid twin thingy.

“Don’t even think about it.” She narrows her eyes back at me, giving me the exact look I gave her. I know those are her famous homemade brownies that we all fight over at family dinners.

“And I made them with real butter,” she adds.

“What else would you make it with?” I crack a smile. Like she’d use anything but the full fat.

“I don’t know. It sounded like a scary thing to add.” Now I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re a dork.” I walk over and pull her into a hug.

“Something weird is going on with you. I can feel it. Even in our texts you seem off,” she whispers in my ear. I debate what to say to her, because I have been a little on edge.

“If I give you the truth, will you not ask me a million questions right now? I have some stuff to get done, and I have plans tonight.”

“Fine,” she grumbles. Pulling back, I place my hand on her belly. She’s having a gender reveal party this weekend for the family. They haven’t told anyone.

“Boy,” she mouths to me, and winks.

“Same,” I mumble, and her eyes go wide then stare down at my stomach. “No, not that. I mean men. This guy’s… Grrr. Never mind. This weekend we’ll talk,” I tell her.

“Promise?” She studies me.

“Of course.” I lean in, giving her a kiss on her cheek. Penelope can get everyone to do anything she wants. We always say she’s our family’s heart. Love just pours from her. She and her husband seem like opposites, but it works for them. He’s a giant Russian who doesn’t talk much and grunts when Penelope gets too far from him. Pretty sure he even has a tracker on her, and not some low-key cell phone one.

“Ivan.” I nod toward him. He walks over and hands me the bag.

“Your mission over, krasota?” Ivan asks her. She gives him a nod and a wink. “Good. I wish to take you home.”

“You always want to take me home,” she laughs.

“Da,” he agrees, like he doesn’t know why she’s giving that a voice. Everyone knows this. But truth is, Penelope is a homebody.

“Love you guys. Kiss my nieces,” I tell them before bending down and kissing her belly “Love you, too, little man.”

I give my sister one more hug before they head off. I smile as I watch them go. I should have known she was going to pop up on me today after she randomly sent me the devil face emoji three times. I finish running a few errands before heading back to my office for a little while. I have a few hours to kill before I meet up with Delilah for some much-needed beers at Lincoln’s.

I throw myself into work, trying to stay focused. But like it’s been doing for the past few annoying days, my mind bounces back to Royce. I click my emails to see if he sent me anything in the last few hours but don’t see anything. Annoyance once again creeps up my spine. And now I’m pissed at myself.

“What is wrong with me?” I mumble. I think that’s the problem. I don’t even know the answer to that question. For some reason, I’m annoyed that Royce didn’t chase me the other day after I’d walked away from him. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, yet I was disappointed when he wasn’t there.

Then when he sends me emails, which I’m always checking, I get this stupid weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s frustrating not being able to control my reaction to him. To top it off, I know I’m being childish by avoiding him. I should be trying to work with him more. Help ease how busy I am at work, but here I am, being immature, which is something I’ve never done in my life when it comes to work. Though he seems to be solving a lot of my problems here at work without a lot of my help. Which only makes me think about him even more and all he’s doing for me. He’s going above and beyond and I’m acting like a brat.