First Comes Marriage (Aster Bay #3)

Chapter Ten

“We didn’t order these.” Gavin tried to hand back the round of shots as the bartender, Sam, set them on their table at The Rookery.

Sam quirked an eyebrow towards a table at the front of the room. “No, but they did.” Baz groaned. He didn’t need to look to know who had sent them drinks. Sam set the final glass in front of Baz with a shit-eating grin. “Congrats, man. Didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

Gavin took a tentative sip of the drink. “Mm, it’s fruity.” He threw back the rest of the shot. “Is that cranberry?”

Jamie pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “I think so.”

Ethan shoved the glass away from himself and held up his beer. “I’ll stick to my Sam Adams.”

“Now is that any way to show your gratitude? Ethan Hart, I know your mother taught you better than that,” Mrs. Blumenthal said with mock offense as she and her gang of meddlesome friends appeared at their table.

“I’m a simple man, Mrs. B, with simple tastes.” Ethan took another sip of his beer.

“And now you’re the only bachelor in the bunch,” Mrs. White mused, running her assessing gaze over him. “Pity. I really did think you would be next to tie the knot. ”

“She lost twenty bucks on that bet,” Mrs. Kemp announced.

“You’re betting on our love lives now?” Baz might need that shot after all.

“Only a bit of harmless fun,” Mrs. Blumenthal said.

“Does this mean you’ll be next to join the fatherhood club, Sebastian?” Mrs. Greene said.

Baz choked on his Scotch, slamming a fist into his sternum as he coughed.

Mrs. White laughed. “Go easy on him, Ruth. He hasn’t even gone on his honeymoon yet.”

“Where are your lovely ladies tonight?” Mrs. Kemp craned her neck around the bar as though Tessa and Kyla might pop out of thin air to surprise her.

“They’re having a girls’ night,” Jamie said. “Tessa wants to get a few more in before the baby comes.”

“Good, then we won’t embarrass Sebastian in front of his new wife when we whoop your behinds tonight,” Mrs. Greene laughed.

“One of these days, we’re going to win,” Gavin said.

The grandma gang laughed at that, Mrs. Blumenthal patting Gavin patronizingly on the shoulder.

“Alright, it’s been over a week since you got home. Time to tell us the truth,” Jamie said once Mrs. White and her friends had returned to their own table on the other side of the room. “Did you lose a bet? Is one of you dying?”

Baz shot him an unamused look. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m trying to figure out how you left here four days ago a single man and now you’re married to a woman you haven’t even seen in ten years.”

Baz glared at him.

“Are you in love with her?” Gavin asked. “What I mean is…have you been in love with her this whole time? I wouldn’t judge you if you have. I mean, look at how long I was in love wi th Kyla before I even knew it.”

“ We all knew it,” Jamie said.

“It would explain why you haven’t had a single serious relationship with any other woman in the last decade,” Ethan said, steering the conversation back to Baz.

Gavin nodded. “We would understand why you were so impulsive if you’ve been harboring feelings for her—”

“Jesus Christ, we went to Vegas. Shit happened, alright?”

“Are you saying you didn’t mean to get married?” Jamie asked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then you’re staying together?” Ethan asked.

“Of course, they’re staying together. They just moved in together,” Gavin said.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” Baz said, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not what your spare key is for.”

“That’s right. It’s for stealing pieces from Baz’s board games,” Jamie said.

“I knew that was you!” Baz threw a handful of popcorn at Jamie across the table, swearing under his breath when his friend caught a piece in his mouth. “I tore apart my apartment looking for that fucking dog.”

“Relax. I know exactly where your precious Monopoly dog is,” Jamie said. “He’s in the top drawer of my desk at the restaurant.”

“He’s in your fucking desk?”

“ He’s a hunk of metal mass produced for a children’s board game,” Jamie teased. “And you can have him back when you tell us what’s really going on with you and Sabrina.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“You went to a conference and ended up married,” Jamie said.

“I wouldn’t have even been at that fucking conference if you hadn’t promised Norm one of us would go,” Baz shot back.

“Well, then, apparently, you’re welcome.” Jamie grinned.

“He’s salty that he lost at Scrabble,” Ethan said. “Don’t worry. We can rematch this weekend.”

“Not gonna be here this weekend,” Baz said, straightening his jacket to have something to do with his hands.

“Since when? I thought we were all going to the carnival on Sunday. Like always,” Gavin said.

“I don’t think we’ve missed a carnival closing night as long as I’ve lived here,” Jamie added.

“Longer,” Ethan said. “Not since Gav broke his arm in fifth grade and Mrs. West wouldn’t let him go.”

“I’m busy,” Baz said.

“Doing what?” Jamie asked.

“Sabrina and I are needed in Brookline.”

His friends fell silent, sharing glances that were either concerned or shocked, he couldn’t decide.

Gavin leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “Are you sure that’s—”

“Are we gonna play trivia, or what?” Baz swung around on his barstool, trying to get a line of sight to Mike Greenhall at the front of the bar. The asshole was still arranging his index cards, like he was preparing for a student council speech or something.

“Let it go, guys,” Ethan said, digging his hand into the bowl of popcorn in the center of the table. “I’m sure Tessa and Kyla will get the whole story from Sabrina tonight.”

“What the fuck are you—” Baz froze. He exhaled harshly through his nose. “Girls’ night.”

***

The incessant buzzing of the doorbell pulled Sabrina from sleep. She sat up on the couch, staring out through a wall of glass at the most gorgeous sunset over the bay.

Where the hell am I?

She wiped sleep from her eyes and glanced around at the minimalist space. Chrome and steel and leather in stark contrast to the driftwood accent wall, the waterfall of white marble serving as a kitchen island, the emotionless beachy landscapes hanging in shiny copper picture frames.

Right. Sebastian’s condo.

She didn’t remember lying down—just that by the time she’d gotten off the phone with her mother she’d been exhausted and alone in the condo—but the nap had done wonders. It seemed her uterus was done trying to murder her for the night, and—miracle of miracles—she hadn’t actually gotten her period two weeks early as she’d feared. Must have been the stress of the last week turning her stomach into knots.

A niggling warning at the back of her mind reminded her that it was likely more than stress. And if Sebastian meant it, if he actually added her to his insurance policy, she could finally see a doctor. She wouldn’t need to wait another four months—realistically more like five—to buy her own insurance. Not that having the insurance itself would stop her ovary from producing cysts the size of grapefruit or keep the endometriosis from spreading, but it would mean she could find a new gynecologist, get the medication she needed to keep the cysts under control, maybe stop living in fear of the ever-more-frequent flare-ups.

The doorbell buzzed again. “Hello?” she asked into the speaker mounted on the wall beside the front door.

“Sabrina? Let us up! It’s Tessa and Kyla—we met at St. Anthony’s Bazaar two weeks ago,” the staticky reply filled the condo.

Sabrina pressed the button at the bottom of the intercom. A few moments later, a sharp knock came at the front door. She pulled the door open, but before she could say anything, a very pregnant Tessa pushed past her. “Sorry, gotta pee!” Tessa called as she waddled down the hall towards the guest bathroom.

“Don’t mind her. The baby’s been sitting on her bladder all week. I’m Kyla. I’m not sure if you remember me,” the curvy blonde in the doorway said with a sheepish smile.

“Kyla, hi. Yes, of course, I remember you. Come in.” Sabrina stepped back and ushered her into Sebastian’s living room. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re the welcome wagon. Tessa is married to Jamie, and I’m engaged to Gavin and now that you’re married to Baz…” She shrugged with a smile. “Welcome!”

“I’m sorry, Jamie and Gavin are…?”

“Your husband’s best friends,” Tessa called from the bathroom down the hall. She emerged a few minutes later. “My dad, Ethan, is the fourth.”

“I met Ethan. He picked us up from the airport.” Sabrina paused, running back Tessa’s words. “Wait, your dad is friends with your husband?”

“Best friends,” Tessa confirmed. “We’re one big, modern family.”

“And now, you’re one of us.” Kyla beamed. “So while the boys are out playing trivia—”

“Losing trivia,” Tessa corrected. “You should be prepared for that when Baz gets home. They always lose to Mrs. White and her friends. Baz takes it the hardest.”

“Yes, while they’re losing, we’re having girls’ night.” Kyla reached into the giant bag on her shoulder and produced a bottle of sparkling cider. “I’m thinking pizza and a corny romcom.”

Tessa sank into the armchair at one end of the living room. “Only if we get cheesy bread too, with that garlic butter dipping sauce. But no pepperoni. This kid is giving me awful heartburn.”

“Right, it’s the baby and not the mountain of buffalo wings you’ve been having for lunch every day,” Kyla said with a smirk as she rummaged for glasses in Baz’s cabinets.

“The baby likes spicy food. What can I say? At least we’re done with the Indian cravings. Our house smelled like curry for a month. ”

“Tessa’s husband is a chef,” Kyla explained. “When she has a craving, he doesn’t order take out. He cooks.”

“The food is amazing, but the smell lingers,” Tessa said, resting her hand absent-mindedly on her baby bump.

Sabrina smiled, though the easy conversation and friendly banter had her off kilter, like she’d been dropped into the middle of one of those supportive, funny, female friend groups people always had on TV but no one actually had in real life. At least, she’d thought no one actually had them in real life. But here Tessa and Kyla were—funny, supportive, female, and determined, it seemed, to be her friends.

“What’ll it be?” Kyla asked, handing Sabrina a glass of sparkling cider and making herself at home on the couch. “90s, 2000s, or made for a streaming service?”

“90s,” Tessa and Sabrina said at the same time.

Kyla fumbled with the remote to Sebastian’s oversized television. After a minute, she held it out to Sabrina. “How do you work this thing?”

“Don’t ask me,” Sabrina laughed. “I only just moved in.”

“That’s right! Mrs. White’s little welcome home gift,” Tessa said with a smile. “Personally, I would have preferred a dozen cupcakes to having Mrs. White digging through my things. Oh! Or a cheesecake. Or a carrot cake.” Her eyes lit up. “A carrot cake cheesecake!”

Kyla laughed and dug into her bag again, producing a bar of expensive chocolate. “Best I can do on short notice.”

Tessa accepted the bar of chocolate with a happy sigh. “You’re too good to me.” She peeled back a corner of the bar and took a bite, her eyes falling closed and a look of pure bliss crossing her face. “Maybe I’ll have the crew at the bakery make me a carrot cake cheesecake tomorrow.”

“Have them make whatever you’d like. You own the place,” Kyla said.

Fortified by her chocolate bar, Tessa turned her attention back to Sabrina. “Well, if we can’t watch a romcom, we’ll have to talk. Tell us everything about yourself.”

Sabrina laughed, startled. “Everything is…a lot.”

“Let’s start with how you met Baz,” Tessa said between bites of chocolate. “Jamie said you guys had history.”

Sabrina opened her mouth but found she didn’t know where to begin. We met while volunteering? True, but probably not what Tessa was looking for. He almost married my sister? Also true, but too complicated. He’s the one I always wondered about, my ‘what if’ guy. Oof, definitely not something she was ready to share with these women, no matter how friendly they were.

Kyla reached across the couch and placed a calming hand on Sabrina’s arm. “No need to dive into the deep end right away. How about something easier? Tessa owns the best bakery in the state. I have a boudoir photography studio in town. What do you do?”

“I’m opening a pottery studio,” Sabrina said, flashing a grateful smile Kyla’s way.

“Like mugs and vases?” Tessa asked.

“Sure, and…other things.” Sabrina glanced between the women. If anyone would understand Sabrina’s specialty, surely it was the owner of a boudoir photography studio and a woman who’d married her father’s best friend. “I had a studio in Maine before I moved here. We were mostly known for hosting break-up parties.”

“What’s a break-up party?” Kyla asked.

“When people want to get together with their friends and wish their ex good riddance—metaphorically, of course—they can book a break-up party. There’s wine and a safe space for the airing of grievances.” She steeled herself in case she’d misjudged these women and powered through. “And I teach them how to make a clay penis to represent their ex. I fire it in the kiln overnight, and the next day they come back, and we have a smashing party. ”

“Where you smash the penises?” Tessa asked, leaning so far forward in her seat that Sabrina was almost afraid she’d fall.

“Yes. Where we smash the penises.”

Tessa and Kyla looked at each other, slow smiles spreading across both of their faces.

“I love that,” Kyla said at last.

“That’s brilliant!” Tessa leaned back in her chair with a laugh. Her eyes sparkled in a way that made Sabrina sure Tessa had been the friend in high school who convinced you to cut class and spend the day at the beach instead of learning trigonometry. “What if someone doesn’t want to smash it?” she asked.

“Then I guess they don’t have to. It hasn’t come up before. Why?”

“What if someone wanted to…I don’t know…make use of their new clay dick?” A surprised laugh burst from Sabrina’s lips. “I mean, theoretically, of course, if someone were to spend all that time crafting the perfect pottery penis, they might want to give it a test drive. Could someone do something like that? Theoretically?”

“Sure, theoretically,” Sabrina said. Dammit but she liked these women. “I’d have to do a little research to be sure, but I think that with a food grade glaze and the right firing the pottery would be body safe.”

“Hmm,” Tessa said, popping the last bite of chocolate bar into her mouth. “Food for thought.”