I glanced around. “Well, I can’t imagine who else it would be for. Think you can carry it for me?”
She wrapped her arms around the box and stumbled toward the table. “Can I open it?”
I heard a flurry of chuckles, and my stomach twisted into a knot when I saw the pack. This wasn’t a party with outsiders and friends; this was a family gathering. I didn’t belong, and the shiny balloons laced around my wrists only called attention to that fact.
“Let me take those,” Lynn offered. “I’ll tie them on the chairs, and you can put the pretzels in one of the bowls. She’s so excited to have everyone here. Even Lorenzo came, and you know how he’s always bickering with Austin.”
Lynn was in her fifties, although I’d never asked her age. I could tell she dyed her hair blond, because sometimes the roots would show scattered grey hairs. Today she had on a dark blue dress with a nice sheen to the fabric. Lynn had class in a natural and effortless way, and she’d always reminded me of a movie star from the golden age of cinema.
Lynn unwound the balloons from my wrists and circled around the long table, tying each one to the back of a chair. Each time she walked near Maizy, she would kiss her on the cheek like a doting mother. Then Lexi would teasingly pout so her mother would give her a kiss on the head and then point out how silly she was behaving. I didn’t think she would sit down for a moment; it seemed like there was always something to put up, set out, adjust, or refill.
I rubbed the red marks on my wrists that the balloon strings had left behind. They were nothing compared to the scars on Izzy’s wrists, but I’d never asked what the story was behind those. Something terrible must have happened to her, but I admired the courage it took her not to hide them.
One interesting observation was how the pack had split up with the women on the left side of the table and the men on the right. I wondered if they had chosen their seating arrangement or if Lynn had strategically separated them so there wouldn’t be any flirting between couples. Only Trevor sat on the women’s side. The birthday girl enjoyed her spot at the head of the table, and it looked like she had gone through half her gifts already.
I gave Lexi a hug when she took my purse and added it to the pile.
Before taking my seat, I stopped behind Trevor and peered over his head. “Look who’s a big girl,” I said to the little angel sitting on Lorenzo’s lap.
Lorenzo gave a close-lipped smile that showed his pride. “She’s turning three this summer.” In a tender motion, he pulled Hope’s long hair back so I could get a good look at her chubby cheeks and beautiful long lashes. Unlike Ivy, who always wore a braid, Hope wore her long hair loose and nicely combed. She had Lorenzo’s dark eyes and intense features, but her mother’s good nature and lovely smile. Such a uniquely beautiful child, sweetly humming a song as she played with the tassels on a leather bracelet he wore around his wrist.
“Naya, come sit next to me. I saved you a seat,” April said from the far end. I passed by Izzy, who was holding hands with Jericho across the table. He brushed his thumb over her knuckle while they watched Maizy excitedly unwrapping her pile of gifts. A pretty dress, a game, a drawing kit, and someone had bought her a tall cylinder of candy. She about died when she peeled the wrapper off, and Lexi’s mom scowled at Denver, who merely laced his fingers together as Maizy popped off the lid and immediately ate a piece.
The only person absent from the festivities was…
“Sorry I’m late,” Wheeler said, his voice dark and smoky as he took the chair across from me. He glared at me for a nanosecond before turning his attention to Maizy.
Wheeler had rubbed me the wrong way when he disrespected April a few years ago. Maybe they’d buried the hatchet, but I still felt infuriated each time he flicked a glance my way. Wheeler was probably a man who berated his women and treated them like submissive dogs.
Yet I found myself secretly peering up at him. Wheeler normally kept the circle beard around his mouth and chin neatly groomed, but it looked like he was growing it out along his jaw. It wasn’t thick but trimmed close, like a heavy five-o’clock shadow. His white tank top fit his body like a second skin, and every hard curve on his chest created a ridge in the fabric. Wheeler had an average frame with anything but an average build. Not an ounce of fat showed, just lean muscle. There was something dark and desirous about him I couldn’t put my finger on, although perhaps it had to do with him being the opposite of every man I’d ever been attracted to. My gaze skated across his tattoos, and when he flashed his amber eyes up to mine, I leaned against April and pretended to ignore him.