I took off my sunglasses and looked in surprise to where Jack stood in the lobby with the stroller and both children, who were now bouncing excitedly upon seeing me, which did more for my ego than a closet full of great-fitting dresses ever could.
After kissing them both, I turned to Jack, who took his time kissing me hello, and who would probably have extended it if Jolly Thompson hadn’t cleared her throat from behind the receptionist’s desk.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Jolly. I got . . . distracted.” I looked back at Jack. “Was I expecting you?”
“No. And we just got here. Jayne’s meeting me here in fifteen minutes to get the children, but I was hoping you had a little bit of time for me to show you something. And then I’m heading to City Lights Café to try to get some work done.”
“What’s wrong with your office at home? Don’t you like the desk your mother and I picked out for you? And your sweater and slippers?”
“I love all of that, I do. I just . . .” He shrugged. “It’s like the whole creative side of my brain shuts down whenever I’m in the house—anywhere in the house. I’ve tried writing in the kitchen, and the dining room. I’ve even tried writing in the bedroom.” He winked. “Although I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to figure out why I’m distracted when I’m trying to write in there.”
Jolly cleared her throat again and he became serious. “Anyway, I’ve found that if I write in a café, or a park bench or really anywhere else, I can get into the writing zone pretty easily.”
I frowned. “You didn’t have this problem before, did you?”
He shook his head. “No. It all started a little over a month ago—which coincided with when I found out about Marc’s movie deal, which could have something to do with it.”
“Probably.” I turned to Jolly. “I don’t have any appointments until one, right?”
“That’s right.” She smiled at the babies. “If you’d like me to keep an eye on them so you can talk without any distractions, I’d be happy to. Everybody’s out at lunch, so it’s pretty quiet right now.”
“That’s very nice, thank you,” I said, and watched with fascination as she crossed something off one of her lists.
“What was that?” I asked, always interested in other people’s methods of organization.
“Every day on my to-do list, I write ‘Do something nice for somebody.’ So thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said slowly.
“They’ve just been fed and diapered, so they should be good to go,” Jack said. “They love to be sung to and they’re not too particular. Unless you’re Mellie—that usually makes them cry.”
I sent him a withering glance, but he just smiled back at me because he knew I couldn’t argue.
“Will do,” she said, coming around the desk and leaning over the stroller. Sarah immediately reached for her sparkling dragonfly earrings, and JJ reached for her breasts. I quickly diverted their attention by diving into the little toy pouch snapped to the stroller and pulling out two stuffed animals before handing one to each child. “Call us if you need anything, but they’re pretty easygoing.”
“Don’t you worry. I love babies.”
Judging by the hours I’d already spent while she showed me pictures of her grandchildren on her phone, I figured she had lots of practice.
Jack followed me back to my office and pressed me against the door as soon as I’d closed it. “Too bad we only have fifteen minutes.”
I pushed away from him, too aware that Jolly and our children were only a short hallway away—not to mention any coworkers who might be returning from lunch. “That’s what our bed at home is for.”
“Is it? Well, just for the record, I intend to keep our marriage spicy. So expect it when you least expect it.”
I felt my body flush and wondered if I might be having a hot flash. I extricated myself from his embrace and headed to my desk, where I shed my coat, purse, and briefcase. “So, what did you want to show me?”
“Is that a leading question?”
I sighed. “No, it’s a real question.” I pointed to his leather satchel he wore over one shoulder. It was vegan leather and stamped with a bright green peace sign, and looked just like the one Sophie’s husband, Chad, wore when he was on his bike pedaling to class. It had actually been a wedding gift from the couple—I had a matching one that I hadn’t quite found a way to use yet.
Jack lifted it from his shoulder and pulled out a thick ream of paper before slapping it in the middle of my completely bare desk. It was a point of pride that I wouldn’t leave the office without all papers, pens, and pencils being put in their proper spots. Only frames containing photos of Jack, Nola, and the babies were allowed.
“What is that?” I asked, wincing at the uneven edges of the stack of paper.
“Hasell’s medical records. Took up half a file cabinet.”