“Katie wakes up every morning at five on the dot and climbs into our bed. She thinks if she’s up, we should all be up,” Whitney grumbled good-naturedly. I knew there was no bite to her complaint. She loved her stepdaughter as much as any mother could love a child. I had been on the fence when she and Web had decided to fake a marriage for Kyle to get full custody of his daughter, Katie. We all knew Web had been batshit crazy in love with Meg’s older sister for most of his life but it seemed destined to end in heartbreak and tragedy.
It was one of the very few times that I was happy to be proven wrong.
My three closest friends started talking in animated hand waving about the travails of motherhood while I stood awkwardly off to the side, absently scratching the back of Edgar’s head.
It seemed the conversations among us had become more and more about their kids and their marriages and less about anything else. And I understood why. They were at the changing diapers, packing lunches, and bitching about their husbands leaving the toilet seat up stage of their lives. Me? I was the quirky single friend living with her behemoth of a dog and ten-year-old turtle she had stolen from her evil ex. I couldn’t add anything to the debate about which daycare was best or the signs of lactose intolerance in babies.
And I was okay with that.
The last thing I wanted was marriage and babies. I liked my space. I liked my privacy. I liked being able to focus on myself and not worry about the wants and needs of anyone else.
I was an independent woman, damn it!
Meg glanced my way and grimaced. “Sorry, Sky. You don’t care about our kids’ sleep schedule.” She handed me a bottle of my favorite microbrew beer. “Just tell us to shut up.”
I waved away her comment. “It’s fine. You know I love all of your kids. Your husbands not as much,” I teased. I would never be that single friend who they had to tiptoe around. I had made my life choices and I was happy with them. If they wanted to talk about their kids and marriages, then I was happy to lend them a listening ear.
Even if it bored me to fucking tears.
Whitney, always the classy one of the bunch, poured herself a glass of white wine. “God, I love this space, Skylar. It’s absolutely beautiful,” she breathed, walking into the glass conservatory that I used as a breakfast nook.
“It really is stunning,” Lena added, following her.
“Yeah, it turned out nice,” I agreed. The glass conservatory was one of my favorite additions to the house with its vaulted glass ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the forest behind the house. In the morning it was bright with the morning sun that warmed the space. I had filled the room off the kitchen with house plants and it now resembled something like a tropical greenhouse. The flooring was the mosaic stone that was cool under your feet, which contrasted nicely with the heat during the day. The back of the conservatory consisted of massive pocket doors that I had opened to let in the chilled evening air.
“I’d kill for something like this in my house,” Meg said, standing in the open doorway looking out into my backyard. “The light would be perfect for painting.”
“This must have cost a fortune to build,” Whitney commented, sitting down at the farm-style table I had in the middle of the room.
“Not really. I got a great deal on it,” I told her, my stomach doing that annoying somersault thing.
Lena snorted. “Good deal meaning you only had to pay for it with your company.” She gave me a saucy wink and I narrowed my eyes in warning. A warning she of course wouldn't take.
“Oh that’s right, Rob’s friends built it, didn’t they?” Meg asked, sitting down beside her sister.
“It was a contractor out of Philly. They came highly recommended,” I replied vaguely.
“That was a friend of Rob’s,” Lena interjected. “I remember him telling Jeremy they owed him a favor and were doing the work for next to nothing.” Lena raised an eyebrow. “Funny how he went to so much trouble given you weren’t even together or anything.”
Lena Decate Wyatt was like a dog with a bone when she wanted information. Which is what made her a fantastic attorney. But it was more than a little annoying when that particular talent was turned on you. It was a good thing I had learned the art of the poker face from an early age.
“We were friends. He was helping me out.” I shrugged. I could do blasé with the best of them.
If Lena’s eyebrows went up any higher, they’d disappear altogether. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend that called in pricey favors on my behalf unless we were sleeping together.” Now those eyebrows were wiggling. “Or they wanted to sleep with me. So which is it, Murphy?”