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Chapter 15
LUCAS
“AreyousureMaria will be all right with your parents?” Rachel asks for the hundredth time in the past hour.
I lean against the bathroom door frame, watching her apply lipstick shakily. She’s wearing a sexy black dress that hugs her curves in all the right ways. I’m giving her my best smolder, yet she’s not even looking at me. Her movements are jerky as if she’s trying very hard not to go check on Maria, sleeping in her crib, for the thousandth time.
It’s Valentine’s Day, and I insisted we go out and have some time to ourselves, including Hunter, Alex, and Seth. We’ve been so bogged down with work, school, and baby business, we haven’t had time to really be…us. I can’t even remember the last time I actually kissed Rachel. Sure, I kiss her all the time. I peck her on the lips, or kiss her cheek or forehead, but we haven’t actually made out since before Maria was born. Nor have we had sex. And I completely understand why. Rachel still needed to heal from her surgery. She’s also breast feeding and busy with caring for Maria.
However, last week, I somehow got it into my head that we could do something nice for Valentine’s Day. Originally, I was thinking a move and a bottle of wine—a juice for Hunter, of course. Rachel and the bros loved the idea, and I stupidly told my mother about it.
“What?” I remember Mom shouting into the phone. “You can’t do that for Valentine’s Day. You should do something romantic. When was the last time you had a night alone together?”
“Mom, it’s fine,” I remember saying, but Mom tsk-ed. I always hate it when she does that. It means a little light bulb has gone off in her head.
“I know! Why don’t your father and I babysit the little one? We haven’t even met our grandchild yet.”
“No, Mom—”
“It’ll be perfect. You and Rachel can have a nice dinner alone and maybe stay the night at a hotel, and your father and I will watch Maria.”
“No, Mom. I don’t think that’s—”
“It’s decided! We’re coming to visit next week!”
When I explained it to Rachel, she became excited. We don’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day. There was never any need for it in the past. Mostly, we would go to Mike’s house and party, or stay home playing video games and eating pizza. Now that we have a kid, it’s like for the first time in our relationship, Valentine’s Day is this epic big deal. I’m regretting not ordering some flowers. I’m regretting my entire outfit, I think while looking down at my clean black slacks and black, button-down shirt. Maybe I should have worn a suit?
“Oh my God! Rachel, are you ready?” Seth shouts up the stairs.
Rachel groans and throws what I assume is mascara into the sink. “Will you tell Seth to cool it? I’m going as fast as I can. He can’t rush art.”
“Take your time,” I say in the most supportive voice I can muster. “We can’t leave until Mom and Dad get here anyway.”
“Are they coming from the airport or the hotel?” Rachel calls after me.
“With them, you never know.” I pause at the top of the staircase and frown down at Seth, who is leaning against the banister, looking very irritable. My gaze roams over his attire, my frown growing when I see he’s wearing wrinkled jeans and an equally wrinkled t-shirt. “Is that seriously what you’re wearing?”
“What?” Seth asks while looking down at himself. “This is my cleanest shirt, and these are my cleanest pants.”
“You do realize we are actually going somewhere nice, right?”
“Yeah. That’s why I wore my cleanest stuff.”
I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. “No. Come here. Right now. There’s no way you’re going out like that.”
“Out like what?” I hear Alex ask.
I glance over my shoulder and see Alex poking his head out of his room. He’s in the middle of tying a pink tie with red hearts, and somehow he’s able to pull off looking both casual and classy at the same time. He’s wearing all black, including a suit jacket, and suddenly I find myself rethinking my look.
“Do you have something Seth can wear? He looks like someone just pulled him out of a dumpster. A burning dumpster, that is.”
“No, I don’t!” Seth shouts. “Don’t exaggerate. If I looked like that, there would be ash all over me.”
Alex’s shoulders shake and I watch him cover his mouth with one hand. “I think I can find something for him to wear,” Alex says while returning to his room. “Seth! Come here! Now!”
“Oh my fucking God,” Seth murmurs while stomping up the stairs. “I don’t look that bad.”
“But you do admit you look bad,” I say as he passes me.
