Something Blue (Darcy & Rachel #2)

And what a feast it was. Restaurant-worthy, for sure. We had a smoked-salmon salad with mustard and dill dressing as a starter, followed by our main course: a roast turkey seasoned with pink peppercorns, sage, and lemon. Our side dishes were roasted potatoes, pan-fried brussels sprouts with chestnuts, orange-glazed carrots, spiced red cabbage with apples, and parsnips seasoned with sea salt. And for dessert we had a delightful strawberry macaroon tart that Ethan had picked up from Maison Blanc, a bakery on Kensington Church Street.

We ate and ate until we literally couldn't take another bite, applauding our efforts along the way. Afterward, we rolled our way over to the couch, where we cozied up under a blanket in our standard head-to-feet position and watched the candles burn down to their nubs. Just as we were nodding off to sleep, the phone rang and jarred us awake. I silently hoped that it wasn't Sondrine—or Geoffrey for that matter. They had both already called earlier in the day, and I saw no reason why further conversation was necessary.

"You wanna get that?" I asked Ethan.

"Not really," he mumbled, but he picked up the phone and said hello.

He shot me a furtive glance and then said, with a strained expression, "Hi, there, Rachel."

I sat numbly next to him as I listened to him wish her a merry Christmas. He gave me another concerned look. I smiled to indicate that I was just fine. Then I went back to his bedroom and curled up under the covers. I tried to put Rachel out of my mind, but clearly that was impossible. I wondered if she was calling from Indiana. Whether Dex had come home with her. Seconds later Ethan appeared in the doorway. His face was solemn.

"Is it Rachel?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you off?"

"No, not yet… I just wanted to check on you…"

"I'm fine," I said, reburying my face in the covers.

"Okay… I also wanted to ask you… can I tell her about your twins? She's asking about you…"

"It's none of her business," I snapped. "I don't want her to know anything about my new life."

Ethan nodded. "I respect that. I won't tell her anything."

I thought for a beat and then peered up at him. "Oh, go ahead. It makes no difference to me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

Ethan nodded, closed the door, and then returned to the living room. I suddenly felt overcome with grief and had to fight back tears. Why was I so upset? Hadn't I moved beyond Rachel's betrayal? I had a new boyfriend, new girlfriends, a new best friend in Ethan, and two babies on the way. And I was sure that I would find a job in the new year. I was doing fine. So why was I sad? I thought for a few minutes, dug down to a very deep place, and came up with an answer that I didn't like. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I knew that it had something to do with missing Rachel.

Against my better judgment, I got out of bed, opened the door, and strained to hear Ethan's end of the conversation. He was talking in a low voice, but I heard some snippets. "Twins… Boys. Identical boys. Amazing… Believe it or not, yes… Really great… She's really changed… Like a different person… Yeah. Her doctor [laughter]. Yeah, she switched doctors, of course… Uh-huh, good for her, you know?… So what about you and Dex?… Sure, yeah. That makes sense…" Then came a long silence. And finally, a bone-chilling word: Congratulations.

I could only think of one thing he could be congratulating her on.

Holy shit! Dex and Rachel got engaged! How could they have gotten engaged so quickly? I wanted to hear more, but I forced myself to close the door and crawl back under the covers. Then I repeated over and over: I don't care about Rachel and Dex. I've moved on. By the time Ethan returned to his bedroom, I half-believed my pep talk and, miraculously, was able to resist asking any questions about his conversation. I could tell Ethan was amazed by my restraint. He rewarded me with a kiss on my forehead and a gentle gaze. Then he told me to stay in bed. "I'll clean up. You stay here and rest."

I nodded, feeling drained and weary. "Thanks, Ethan."

"Thank you, Darcy."

"For what?" I asked.

He thought for a second and then said, "For a very memorable Christmas."

I gave him a brave smile and waited for him to leave before weeping silently into my pillow.





* * *





twenty-seven


Ethan, Sondrine, Geoffrey, and I did the whole double-dating thing for the first time on New Year's Eve. Geoffrey made reservations for us at Gordon Ramsey, the posh, Michelin-starred restaurant at Sloane Square, which was the perfect venue for a special occasion. Throughout the meal, we all praised the New French cuisine. Geoffrey called it "sublime" and Sondrine referred to it as a "symphony of flavors." I thought they both sounded a bit pretentious, although it was a fair description of my pot-roasted belly of West Country pork with aubergine caviar, and of Ethan's roast Scottish gray-legged partridge with braised red cabbage—which I tasted more than once.