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“It’s like dumpy layered over ugly.”
“I’m trying to be non-sexual,” I said, yanking open the fridge to grab the coconut milk.
“Mission accomplished. Or should I say, missionary accomplished. You look like you’re about to leave a pamphlet on my doorstep.”
“Hank,” Sera said, shooting him a look and shaking her head slightly.
“I don’t want to send the wrong message,” I said.
“I think that’s smart,” Sera said. “You want to be taken seriously, I understand that. Men don’t have to worry about that.”
“Exactly.” I glared at my brother.
“Okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I can’t argue with that.”
“Where’s Cash?” I asked. “Why are you still here, Hank?”
“Cash had to leave this morning for San Francisco for the game.”
I couldn’t keep up with Cash’s travel schedule. He was deep in the middle of football season and he was barely home. When he was, he was tired, sore, and eating an insane amount of carbs.
“I miss him,” Sera lamented, slamming the dishwasher door shut. “This is so hard.”
“He left an hour ago,” Hank pointed out.
“So? I miss him already.” Sera groaned and hugged her pregnant belly.
“That sounds exhausting to be that connected to someone. This is why I’m single,” Hank said.
“Is it though?” I asked, shooting him a skeptical look. “I can think of a lot of reasons you’re single. And you didn’t answer the question— why are you still here? Everyone else went home to Louisiana.”
“Cash was worried about Sera being home by herself while you’re in Kentucky. So I said I would stay a few days.”
Hank’s back was to me as he did something at the stove. He was a chef in New Orleans, so I was sure it was something impressive. It certainly smelled good. Like cinnamon and bananas.
“I’m good under pressure if anything were to happen,” Hank added.
I wasn’t sure if that was accurate or if he just didn’t give a shit half of the time. Sera and I exchanged looks. I could tell she wasn’t sold on the idea of having Hank as a replacement birthing coach until Cash got home, especially considering it would be a premature birth.
“I’ll be home on Sunday,” I said to reassure her. “Hank, is whatever you’re making going to be done before I leave? I’m starving.”
“Yes. With that outfit on you can pack away three servings and no one will know.” Hank started whistling.
Charming. “It’s a miracle I don’t have self-esteem issues growing up with all of you assholes. Also, why are you cooking such a huge breakfast when the kids have already left for school?” It was after nine already. “Without Johnny here to scarf it down, that’s probably wasted effort.”
“I cook to clear my head. But those kids leave for school at seven-fifteen, which is just bullshit. That’s way too early to be doing fractions or whatever the hell kids do in school now. I can’t get up and cook that early. They can eat these pancakes as an after school snack.”
“I appreciate all the cooking, Hank. I love to bake, but cooking three squares a day for kids who won’t stop eating is exhausting,” Sera said.
“No problem.” He stirred something and flipped something else. There was a lot of action going on over that stove. “Breakfast will be ready in about seven minutes.”
Cooking wasn’t my thing. So I wandered away to sit on the sofa in the family room and check my phone. I was glad Dylan was going to be in the car with me and MacKay. That would make it less awkward. Or sexual. Awkward wasn’t really the issue.
Sera came and sat down next to me, sighing heavily. “I’m too old to be pregnant.”
“Clearly not.” It had taken her and Cash about five minutes to get knocked up.
“When I had Ava fifteen years ago, I was still so active in the last trimester. I was taking spinning classes and doing yoga.”
