Page 127 of The Trouble with Flings

It flies at me again, and I turn away, waving my hands. “Well, maybe it can spiritually awaken somebody else.”

Laughter moves through the group as the dragonfly hovers and dives like it has a personal vendetta against me, and I try to dodge it.

“Margot, did you raise this thing?” I tease. “It’s as relentless as Fitz.”

“You are a firecracker,” Lenore says. “You must join us for our first Bra Brigade outing of the season. We’ll do it on the first warm weekend.”

“Oh, yes!” Margot exclaims. “You have to join us!”

“I’m sorry, the what outing?” I ask, spinning away from the dragonfly.

“The Bra Brigade,” Lenore says. “My friends and I started it when we were teenagers. We find a private spot on the island and sunbathe in our bras. I know times have changed, and now bikini tops are basically silver dollars on strings, but it’s tradition, and we love our traditions.”

“It’s a celebration of our bodies,” Shelley says. “We all do it.”

The dragonfly makes another pass at me, and I swat at it wildly. “I really appreciate the offer, but trust me, you do not want to see these puppies. I’ve already gained five pounds with this pregnancy, and it’s all right here!” I grab my boobs and duck away from the dragonfly again.

Gasps ring out, followed by deafening silence.

My stomach plummets. I look up and find everyone staring at me, mouths agape.

“You’re pregnant?” Margot asks.

“Oh my God.” My hand flies to my mouth. Shitshitshit. After what Lenore said about Fitz being the most eligible bachelor on the island, they’re definitely going to think I trapped him. “It was an accident,” I blurt frantically. “I mean, a scary, happy accident, but I swear I wasn’t trying to trap Fitz. I would never—”

“Jennifer, honey,” Margot says calmly, stepping closer and taking my hand. “Breathe. It’s okay. Nobody thinks you trapped him.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, fighting tears. “Because, honestly, I wasn’t trying to rope in the catch of the island. I’m thirty-eight years old. A baby wasn’t even in my plans. I would never force that on someone else.”

“Nobody thinks you are,” she says, pulling me into a tight embrace. “We’ve all been surprised by a pregnancy or two in our time.”

Relief swamps me.

“Does Fitz know?” Lenore asks.

“Ohmygod. Fitz.” Panic flares inside me anew. “Can you please forget you heard all of that? Fitz wanted to break the news to everyone at brunch.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Margot reassures me, and looks at the others with quiet authority.

A murmur of agreement moves through the group.

“Thank you,” I say, as breathless as if I’d run a mile.

“I take it my son is happy about this?” Margot asks.

I nod, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. He’s already planning a nursery. That’s why we were at the furniture store.”

“Now, that sounds like Fitz,” Shelley says.

“I guess that explains the dragonfly,” Gail says as she embraces me. “You’re transforming, sweetheart.”

They all laugh, and then they converge on me with hugs and supportive sentiments.

Margot tells me it’s a blessing, her arm circling me again. She holds me there, as if I’m hers to protect now. Shelley is positively elated, Gail is nodding with the delight of a woman who suspected something all along, and Lenore is squeezing my hand, telling me what a great father Fitz is going to be. Indi asks about my due date, and Victory says Wells is going to lose his mind when he finds out, and I am standing in the middle of them, still half-mortified and half-panicked, but completely, unexpectedly embraced by these beautiful women I barely know, who seem to have the ability to make hard things feel lighter just by being present.

Mayor Osten’s voice booms through the loudspeaker, announcing the beginning of the hunt. Cheers of delight fill the air as children scatter onto the lawn, and the office doors fly open.

What comes out can only be described as a fever dream of inflatable costumes.