She's laughing. She's laughing hysterically, while I'm still inside her, her movements sending vibrations through me. "Shit, Caulter, we broke the bed," she says, nearly a shriek. "Oh my God, why do we break things in this house?"
Then I hear footsteps rushing toward the door, and thank God I have the presence of mind to grab the blanket covering the bed and yank it up to our necks. Because the very next second, the door flings open and the three of them – Ella, Senator Harrison, and Rose – rush inside.
Kate is nearly hysterical, brushing away tears.
And I'm still inside her, even if the sheets cover us. I'm still inside her as the three of them look at us in horror.
"Oh my God," Ella says. "I'd say get a room but you kids obviously already have."
Rose puts her hand over her chest. "We thought you had an accident. Or something. Obviously something." She shakes her head, turning and darting quickly down the hallway.
Senator Harrison averts his eyes, his hand near his face, mumbling something about locking the door and getting furniture that can withstand abuse. The word abuse sends Kate into another peal of laughter, while the Senator and Ella make swift exits.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.
"We broke the fucking bed," she says. "The ladder in the library that summer, and now the bed."
"See? You were worried things would change, Princess," I say. "Nothing's changed at all."
CHAPTER SEVEN
KATE
The past few days have been a whirlwind of wedding-related activity. I don't know why I decided to do all of this myself while pregnant. I didn't even hire a wedding planner, insisting I wanted to take care of all of the details.
I think I might have been delusional. Pregnancy brain is totally a thing.
"I can't believe you've been doing this legwork yourself, Kate," Ella says as she slips her arm around my shoulder. "I can't believe my son has been letting you do all of this work."
I'm sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, picking at the sides of a cinnamon roll, freshly baked from scratch, Rose's specialty. Rose stands with her back turned to us, stirring something in a pot that smells delicious, and my stomach growls. I pop another bite in my mouth.
"I tried to help her," Caulter insists. "Tell her she can't control everything."
"What?" I squeak and glare at him. "I'm not trying to control everything. Well, some things. I was doing fine with it all by myself. It's only two hundred guests. We're keeping it small, low key."
Ella shakes her head. "Let me fly in my wedding planner."
"Your wedding planner isn't going to just jump on a plane out here," I say.
"We'll see about that," Ella says, texting on her phone.
But my resolve is weakening. I'm definitely tired. "The tent rental company just called to let me know there had been a mistake," I admit, exhaling heavily. "One of their employees made a scheduling error and now we have no tent and no heaters. So everyone who's coming to attend a wedding on Christmas Eve day, when they'd probably rather be out shopping or doing their own holiday traditions, are out in the cold. Literally."
All of the words come rushing out, and when I'm finished I take a deep breath of air. Ella and Caulter are staring at me. "So maybe some help would be nice," I say.
Ella smiles and holds up her phone. "Rebecca will be here tomorrow."
"Just like that?" I ask, in disbelief. Scheduling an appointment to taste cakes took more advance notice than that just did.
"Now," Ella says. "That's settled. Rebecca is fabulous at pulling things together at the last minute. Don't worry about the tent. I'll text her and let her know what happened. She'll work her magic; trust me. Oh, and another thing -- I've moved my things into one of the bedrooms upstairs. You two should have the guesthouse."
I feel heat rise to my cheeks and wonder if they're as red as I think they are. "Are we being banished?"
Caulter snorts.
Ella sips her whatever-the-hell green drink she's drinking, her eyes twinkling. "Not banished," she says. "There's simply more space out there for the two of you. It's more private."
Rose's back is still turned to us, and she's notably quiet. She's stirred that pot of soup so many times I think it might actually be pureed by now.
I also think I might actually dissolve into the floor. To have my father and Ella and Rose all catch Caulter and I after we broke my childhood bed?
Totally mortifying.
But Caulter laughs. "Has the guest house been soundproofed?"
"Caulter!" I say.
Rose finally turns, a wooden spoon in her hand and her eyebrow arched. "I seem to remember a library ladder that was mysteriously broken a few years ago," she says.
Ella's eyes go wide. "A ladder!" she says. "You know, there's a lovely library scene in the movie I'm doing. It's about an older woman who seduces a younger –"
"Stop, stop. That's enough. I'm not listening to my mother talk about seducing a younger man," Caulter says, giving me "that look," the universal sign for 'let's-get-the-hell-out-of-here'.