He pushed back the memory. He was doing this for those babies. They needed two things: food and their mother, and this time around, he was going to be able to protect a mother and her babies—make sure they had the long and healthy life that Bonnie and Hazel had deserved.
“I know I didn’t speak up when she called us Mr. and Mrs. Straight back there,” he said. Did he dare take that back? “It’s no pressure. I was just... I don’t know, acting the part for the audience, you know?”
“No, I get it.” She put a hand on his arm. “I was, too. But I think I’ll keep my own last name for now. It’s simpler. My sons have Rogers as their last name, so—”
“No, no, that’s perfectly fine.” A wave of relief crashed over him. His last name was something he could hold back for himself...for Bonnie. He looked down at Gabby again, and she gave him a tight smile.
What was with them? They’d known each other for decades, and here they were dancing around each other like painfully polite strangers, discussing what last name she’d have now that he’d married her. Gabby had always been the irreverent type, and here she was meeting him toe-to-toe with manners. He went over to the coatrack and took down their jackets.
“What do we tell people?” she asked, as she pulled her puffy, cream-colored coat around her shoulders. A few people passed them in the tall main entrance of the building, and Seth caught the smiles cast in their direction.
What would they tell people? Everyone had a “how we met” or even a proposal story, and people loved to hear it. But their story wasn’t exactly romantic, and that wasn’t going to go over well, was it?
“Well, uh...” Seth swallowed. “Why don’t we move you in to my place first, and then we can take some time to hammer out the details.”
“Something more palatable than we did this for health insurance?” she asked with a teasing smile. There she was—the old Gabby.
“Yeah, pretty much,” he agreed, and they exchanged a mildly amused smile. “We always did get ourselves into messes, didn’t we?”
And every single time, he’d been furious with her for dragging him along into trouble. A sparkle came into Gabby’s eyes, and he was gratified to see it.
“So we just...keep the secret for a bit?” she clarified.
“You okay with that?” he asked. “I mean, people will ask questions once you’ve moved in, but by then, I’m sure we’ll have something sorted out between us. I don’t want to look like I’m lying to my boss—I mean, our reasons for this marriage shouldn’t matter so much to our friends, but my reputation at work matters. If they thought I was scamming the system, or whatever—”
“No, I understand,” she said.
“United front, right?”
“United front.” She gave him a nod. “You sure you’ll be okay with three babies in your house? And me?”
“I’ll be fine.” He’d been prepared for one baby a couple years ago. He could stretch for three.
“I do appreciate this,” she said. “You have no idea, Seth. You’re a really good friend.”
Seth slid an arm around her shoulders, and for the first time today, some physical contact felt natural between them. He gave her a squeeze.
“Now that we have a marriage license, I’ll get you on my insurance right away. I’m sure we can scrape up enough money for the formula between now and when it kicks in.”
“I’m relieved.” Gabby put a hand against her chest and her gaze misted. “I’ve been alone in this, and I don’t think I even realized how worried I was until just now. I mean, to have the basics be almost out of reach... Milk! It shouldn’t bankrupt a woman, you know?”
“You’re not alone in this.” He dropped his arm and caught her hand in his. “It’s a burden shared, right? You’ve got me now.”
She nodded, and he felt a flood of relief, too. They would be okay. Gabby was a good person, and she didn’t deserve to be struggling on her own. Neither did those tiny boys. And for once, he was able to do something—fix something—and feel like he was making a bad situation better for someone he cared about.
They headed down the stairs to the main floor. As he held open the door for her, they were met by a rush of frigid air. It was snowing again—large flakes floating down in lazy pirouettes. Gabby pulled on a pair of gloves.
“How should we celebrate?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t mind a piece of cake,” Gabby said, glancing up at him. “To go, though. I miss my babies.”