“The kids have their own table,” Danielle tells me as she puts the enchiladas into the oven. “Well, just Jackson and Emma. Arya has a highchair and I don’t think Vi is big enough to even sit in one yet.”
“It’s neat that they’re so close in age. From what Owen said, Quinn and Scarlet are good friends.”
“Yeah,” Danielle says with a smile. “They are.”
“Do you hang out with them too?” I ask a little apprehensively as I pick up my sangria again.
“I do. They were friends before I came into the picture, so sometimes I feel like an outsider, but it’s never from them. It’s all me putting that persona on, if that even makes sense.”
“It does,” I tell her. “I used to know everyone so well. It’s a little weird being out of the loop.”
“Right. You and Owen dated since high school.”
I nod and open the silverware drawer. “Quinn used to feel like my own little sister. Archer was like a brother. And to come back and find them married with kids…” I shake my head and laugh. “Makes me realize how much I missed.”
“Does it make you want to get back in the loop?” she asks carefully as she sets a timer on the microwave.
“Actually, it does.” I pause for a second before taking the silverware to the table. I look outside again, seeing Owen lying in the grass as Emma tackles him. Dexter runs around wagging his tail, and three horses graze out in a pasture behind them. Everything is so picture perfect I’m not sure it’s even real.
So I do the logical thing and gulp down the rest of my sangria.
I finish setting the table and then fill glasses of water and set them at each place setting. Scarlet comes in, saying Violet needs a diaper change. I hold her once Scarlet’s done changing her diaper so Scarlet can go to the bathroom.
“She’s giving me baby fever and I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I tell Danielle as I look down at Violet’s precious little face.
“Right? She’s such a good baby too. I can only hope—” She cuts off when Mr. and Mrs. Dawson come into the house, followed by Dean, Kara, and Quinn, who’s holding Arya.
“Do you need any help, dear?” Mrs. Dawson asks Danielle.
“No, but thank you. Charlie helped me, and it’ll be about ten more minutes until the enchiladas are cooked through.”
“Should I call in the boys?” Mrs. Dawson asks.
“Sure. I’ll heat up the rice,” Danielle says.
“I’ll make margaritas,” Quinn offers, handing off Arya to her mother. She gets distracted when a fat orange cat comes running. She sits on the ground to pet the cat, and I leave the kitchen to go onto the back porch so I can call the guys in.
Owen sees me as soon as I step out. His eyes lock with mine and he raises his hand in a wave. Jackson throws a football at that very moment, and Owen pretends to let it hit him hard in the chest, knocking him over onto the ground. Jackson erupts into giggles, and little Emma toddles over to try and pull Uncle Owen back to his feet. Logan scoops her up and spins her around, and Weston steals the football, running away with it before Jackson can even see.
It won’t be long before Violet and Arya are big enough to play with their cousins, and soon Danielle and Logan’s baby will be here. Everyone is living out their dreams, and it’s not that I’m jealous, because I really care about the Dawsons and want them all to be happy…but I am a little jealous.
Owen broke up with me because he didn’t want to settle down and get married. He didn’t want to have kids or a family or the responsibility of being a husband and father.
But I wanted all that.
Yet I don’t have it.
Maybe it’s not him that needs to change, but me.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” I call, leaning on the porch railing. Birds chirp loudly and a slight breeze rustles the leaves on the tree line surrounding the pasture. I didn’t see Owen living in a house fit for Wisteria Lane, and I never thought Logan would end up living on a farm as picturesque as his parents’.
“Time to go in,” Dean tells Emma, who starts to throw a fit. Owen says something to Logan, and Logan smiles and flicks his eyes to me. Weston picks up Jackson by the feet, hanging him upside down. The boy screams and laughs, and my heart feels so full watching the Dawson boys play with these kids.
Going back inside, Quinn practically shoves a margarita in my hand.
“Want to smell this one?” I ask with a laugh.
“I already did. I might have tasted just a tiny bit of one too. Like, not even a sip but more like stuck my tongue into it.”