“I’m game,” Summer says.
“Me too.”
Bennett-style usually involves the three of us, plus Caroline, and lately Nadine and Ava getting together and gossiping over wine. Hot chocolate makes for a great substitute, though.
For the next twenty minutes, my sisters hover around me, not allowing me to do anything and taking care of everything. The food my sister ordered arrives so quickly I wonder if Alice had someone prepare it beforehand, just in case.
As they bicker over which romantic comedy to watch first, I have a vision of us being eighty, wrinkly, and having the exact same conversation. Some things will never change, and that’s a good thing.
“Girls, come on. Stop bickering.”
To my astonishment, they do.
“This line has never worked before,” I mumble.
“Yeah, but you’re pregnant now. We can’t upset you,” Alice says reasonably, which makes me grin. I will use every single advantage this pregnancy will bring.
>
I turn on the TV as the girls settle on a movie, and I almost tear up when I see what’s on the screen.
“Pippa?” Summer asks tentatively. “You’re… Are you crying?”
“No… I don’t know.” I point to the TV, as if that alone explains everything.
“This is your favorite crime show. Can’t blame you, the lead detective is a hottie,” Alice says. “I’m not following. What’s with the tears?”
“Eric and I decided it’s our show a while back. We didn’t see it on Saturday, and I recorded it for later.” A tear rolls down my cheek. “How am I supposed to watch the show without him?”
Alice and Summer simply stare at me. It’s official. If out of all the things I have to worry about, a damn show takes center stage, I’m losing it. Is it too early to blame the hormones for my weird priority list?
The girls have the decency not to reply. We settle on a movie eventually, and we’re halfway through it when the doorbell rings.
“I hope you didn’t order more food, Alice,” Summer says.
“No, but maybe they forgot to drop off something. I could swear everything was in the delivery boxes, though”.
“Do you think if we ignore them they’ll go away?” I groan. “I’m in a food coma already. Can’t even move.”
“I’ll get the door,” Summer announces. I let out an undefined noise, pausing the movie, as my little sister scurries out of the room.
What follows catches me completely unprepared.
“What are you doing here?” Summer asks.
“I need to talk to Pippa.”
Every muscle in my body freezes. Before I can even wrap my mind around the fact that Eric’s here, Alice leaps from the couch and joins Summer. I don’t see what’s going on in the corridor, but I can hear everything.
“You idiot,” Alice says. “I thought you’d—”
“Alice,” Eric booms, and the sound of his voice snaps me out of my stupor, leaving a place for panic and excitement at the same time. What if he’s here to say good-bye? What if he’s here not to say good-bye? I become aware of my pitiful state—the dark circles, the crazy hair—and groan. I’m a mess.
“I’m sure you have some more insults up your sleeves,” he continues, “but I’m here to talk to Pippa, not you. For what it’s worth, I know I made a mistake, and I’m here with a plan. A good plan.” He lowers his voice, so I don’t hear the next words, but Summer exclaims, “That’s so romantic.”
And just like that, he charms my sisters, which is a remarkable feat. It took my brothers years to learn how to tiptoe around them and say exactly what they want to hear. Summer and Alice poke their head in the room and adopt apologetic expressions.
“Pippa, we will have to resume our pity-party later on,” Alice says.