“So, obviously they’re all adorable,” Chloe said, watching the two grown men having a ball with a bunch of dogs. “Any thoughts on which you think you’d like?”
“Good lord, how in the world are we going to choose?” Sophia bent down to pick up a sweet little one that had begun nuzzling at her foot.
Ha! Sophie’s choice . . . I bit it back and said nothing. I did look down to see Simon, grinning up at me with hands full of puppies.
“A hundred percent no,” I said, arching my eyebrow.
In the end, it was the puppies who made the choice for Sophia and Neil. Not one, not two, but three puppies had been adopted. Cute won out over common sense, and even Sophia was excited about the prospect of having a houseful of paws and toddler toes all at once. Truth was, I’d never seen her happier. She still talked a great game, tough as nails and seeming to have Neil by the balls, but she was thrilled with the turn her life was taking. The puppy trifecta was just one more sign that our leggy redhead was being domesticated.
We were all racing toward our thirties, settling down a bit perhaps, but never actually settling.
Lucas and Chloe invited us to stay for dinner. Neil and Sophia were staying the night. Simon and I had made reservations at a little boutique hotel down by the ocean, and I was looking forward to being lulled to sleep by the sounds of the waves. I was also looking forward to making Chloe give me a tour of the crazy house she lived in.
“Seriously, this house is like a time capsule! I’ve never seen anything like it—are you sure you didn’t get a designer to re-create 1958 in here?” I gasped, taking in all the kitsch.
“No way. Everything here is authentic, placed here by my grandparents and untouched for years. Even though it was a vacation home, I’m still amazed how well everything has stood up over the years—it’s all still in great shape.”
“I could literally sell every piece in this house to my clients; everyone wants midcentury right now. Jesus, is that a hi-fi system?” I asked, pointing to a large console sideboard with the center piece opened up. A turntable in mint condition sparkled from underneath. I’d had one of these refinished a few years back for a client, but this one was a beauty. Danish design, with clean simple lines; when it was closed it looked like a simple dining room buffet table. Everything I’d seen in this house so far was just full of great details like this.
“Oh yeah, we play records on that thing almost every day. Lucas, get that bad boy fired up!” Chloe called out, bringing her boyfriend out from behind the tiki bar.
“Sure thing, chickie baby,” he replied, and a moment later the smooth vocal stylings of Mr. Dean Martin were pouring forth. “Now, who wants a cocktail? I’ve got zombies over here.”
Two hours later, I’d learned a few things. One, zombie cocktails are lethal. Don’t have more than you can handle, which for me turned out to be two.
We enjoyed dinner on the patio, and after we finished up the great meal Chloe had made we sat around chatting and drinking coffee, trying to combat the effects of the very delicious but very strong cocktails.
“Might want to go a little lighter on the booze next time,” Chloe told Lucas. “We’ve been working our way through this great tiki bar cocktail recipe book, and some are considerably stronger than others,” she said to the rest of us.
“Especially when you’re the one in charge of the mai tais” Lucas murmured, and I saw a blush creep into Chloe’s cheeks. “So, cousin of mine, when are you two tying the knot? I noticed we haven’t received an invitation yet.”
Sophia patted her belly. “Not sure, but at least six months after the munchkin gets here. I want to get some of this baby weight off first so I can be stunning.”
“You’ll be stunning regardless,” I interjected.
“I mean prebaby-weight stunning. Sorry, I’m shallow. I said it so you don’t have to,” she said.
“You’re not shallow.” I laughed.
“You’re pretty shallow,” Chloe chimed in, with a smirk. Sophia picked up her knife and mimed slitting her throat. “Shallow and violent.”
“I told you I liked this girl,” Sophia said to Lucas, who threw back his head and laughed. “Speaking of weddings,” Sophia continued, and my hand froze on its way to pick up my zombie. “When do you two think you’re going to be making things official?”
My ears grew warm, my skin prickled, and my lips began to compose a retort when I saw that she wasn’t looking at me, but rather at her cousin Lucas. My lungs deflated and I snatched up my glass, taking a big gulp of zombie. Big gulp of zombie, what a great name for a . . .