Sabrina James, soon to be Sabrina Tucker, is one of those obnoxiously beautiful women who turns every head when she walks into a room. I’m talking glossy
dark hair, bottomless brown eyes, and a perfect body that shows zero signs of having ever carried a child. If I didn’t know her, I’d probably hate her. Or, at the very least, die of jealousy. And not only is this girl stunning, but she’s about to graduate from law school. Ergo, beauty and brains. Some people are just born lucky.
Still, it’s very hard to dislike Sabrina once you get to know her. She’s a ride-or-die type of friend, loyal to the core, and funnier than her aloof exterior suggests.
When she enters the private tearoom, a brilliant smile lights her face. As if it’s an unexpected joy to find all of us here, even though she’d helped plan this.
“I can’t believe you’re all here.” An uncharacteristic note of emotion trembles in her voice. Sabrina is usually cool as a cucumber. Self-assured. She doesn’t get emotional. But I’m pretty sure there are tears clinging to her impossibly long lashes as she clutches little Jamie in her arms.
The three-year-old, meanwhile, is clamoring to get down and not get squeezed to death by her mom’s anaconda
arms.
At Sabrina’s request, the guest list was kept small, so our little group barely makes a dent in the large, elegant room. Sabrina’s never been a social butterfly, though. She worked her way through college, then had a kid right before starting law school, which doesn’t leave much time for socializing. Our group today is comprised of me, Hannah and Grace; Dean’s sister Summer; Hope and Carin, Sabrina’s best friends from Briar; and Samantha and Kelsey, two friends from Harvard Law.
But it’s Jamie who captures everyone’s attention. The toddler has Tucker’s dark red hair and Sabrina’s big chocolate-brown eyes. She’s the perfect combination of the two of them, and I have no doubt she’ll be just as gorgeous. This morning she’s wearing a purple dress with a tutu skirt, her hair arranged in two pigtails.
“Auntie Allie!” she shrieks before flinging a pair of chubby arms around my knees.
I bend down so I can hug her proper. “Hey, princess,” I say, using Dean’s nickname for her. Everyone seems to have their own pet name for Jamie. Garrett calls her gumdrop. Logan calls her squirt. Hope’s husband D’Andre calls her snickerdoodle, which I think might be my favorite one.
“Oh my goodness, is that a tiara?” I say, admiring the sparkling silver crown atop her auburn head.
“Ya! Daddy got it for me!” Proudly, Jamie shows the tiara off to the entire group, as we all ooh and aah accordingly.
Then we mill around and chat amongst ourselves until an elegantly dressed hotel employee arrives to announce that tea will be served soon.
“Are you excited, little one?” Sabrina asks her daughter. “We’re about to have tea. Like Alice.”
“Like Alice!” Jamie shouts, because young children don’t come with a volume dial. I don’t think Jamie Tucker has any concept of the word loud.
We all settle around the table at our assigned seats. I’m between Hannah and Summer, with Sabrina and Jamie directly across from us. The moment she settles in her booster seat, Jamie tries to snatch a teacup off the crisp, floral tablecloth on the beautifully set table. Sabrina intervenes like a pro, blocking Jamie’s hand as skillfully as a goalie making a clutch save.
“No, this cup is Auntie Hope’s,” she says, moving the fine china toward the grinning woman with the dark braids. “This one is for you.”
I hide a smile. Jamie’s cup is clearly made of plastic.
“We’re going through a butterfingers phase,” Sabrina explains, catching my knowing smile. “No china for this one. It’ll cost a fortune to replace all the cups she drops.”
As a trio of servers appear to pour our tea, I notice Hannah’s looking a bit pale. I nudge her gently. “You okay?” I murmur.
“I’m fine. Just a bit queasy,” she says. “Not sure wolfing down a fully loaded omelet right before bed last night was a good idea.”
“I think they said one of these is a ginger tea? That’ll help with the queasiness.” I glance at the male server who approaches us. “You said something about ginger? Can we try that one, please?”
“Of course, madam.”
Madam. I don’t know if that makes me feel fancy or just old.
“Smells good,” Hannah says as she brings the teacup to her mouth. She takes a dainty sip. “Perfect. Just what I need.”
Across the table, Jamie adorably mimics Hannah. “Mmmmmm!” she announces, slurping her tea. “Perfect!”
Everyone’s trying not to laugh.
“She actually likes tea?” Kelsey says from Sabrina’s other side, sounding surprised. “It’s not too bitter for her?”
“It’s G-R-A-P-E J-U-I-C-E,” Sabrina spells out, grinning. “There’s no way I’m pumping this kid full of caffeine. Are you crazy?”
“There’s decaf,” Carin points out.
“I’m not taking the chance she accidentally ingests something else. Not after last year’s coffee debacle. She was so wired, Tuck almost took her to the ER.”
The servers bring out the first round of sandwiches on extravagant three-tiered trays. And for the next hour and a half, the trays keep coming. I feel like I’m acting out a scene from Downton Abbey as we munch on tiny cucumber sandwiches and stuffed macaroons. Despite it being Sabrina’s day, Jamie is the obvious star of the morning. She’s smart as a whip and so damn sweet, reminding me a lot of Tucker. And just when I think she couldn’t get any cuter, I discover she has this weird new habit of asking everyone if they’re okay, which she proceeds to do while skipping around the table.
“Are you okay, Auntie Samanda?” she asks, pausing next to Samantha’s chair.
Sabrina’s Harvard friend is clearly fighting a laugh. “I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.”
“You’re welcome.” With a big, beaming smile, Jamie moves to the next seat, which happens to belong to me.
“Are you okay, Auntie Allie?” she inquires. My lips twitch. “I’m doing great, princess.”
She moves over. “Are you okay, Auntie ’Annah?” Hannah smiles indulgently. “I’m great, gumdrop.”
Jamie skips down the line. I gaze at Sabrina and say, “She’s a lot calmer than the last time I saw her.” It was back in the fall, and Jamie had been a total terror, streaking around the room getting into mischief.
“Trust me, she’s still a nightmare,” Sabrina answers. “I made sure she got a nap in after breakfast. Tried to wear her out before we got here so she’d be calmer.”
Our servers return to top off everyone’s teacups, and the conversation shifts from Jamie to tonight’s wedding reception. The ceremony itself is taking place about an hour before that, but it’s a private event. Just Sabrina and Tucker, and Tucker’s mom.
A fact that Carin is pouting over. “I can’t believe we won’t get to see you recite your vows.”
Hope snorts. “I can. No way was this bit—B-I-T-C-H going to pour her heart out in front of two hundred people.”
Sabrina grins at that. “You know me well, Hopeless.” She shrugs. “It was our compromise. Tuck gets a huge reception, and I get to tell him how much I love him without four hundred pairs of eyes staring at me.”
Next to me, Summer is also pouting. “I’m so jealous you’re getting married,” she tells Sabrina. “Honestly, I cannot believe Fitzy hasn’t asked me to marry him yet. The nerve of that man.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re only twenty-two,” I remind her.
She tosses her silky golden hair over her shoulder. “So?
Twenty-two-year-olds aren’t allowed to get married?”
“No, of course they are. It’s just… It’s young. I’m turning twenty-five soon, and I definitely don’t want to get married right now.”
Summer waves a flippant hand. “Twenty-five? Oh my God. You’re practically an old maid.” Her twinkling green eyes tell me she’s joking. “I don’t know, I just always imagined myself getting married young. And being a young mom,” she admits. “I want to have at least four kids.”
“Four?” I sputter.
She beams. “Four big strapping boys like their dad.”
Sabrina snickers. “Talk to me after the first one. Let’s see if you still want the other three.”
Summer defends her stance. “I love having two brothers, and Fitz is an only child, so I think he’d enjoy
having a big family.” She sticks out her bottom lip. “All of that is moot, though, because the jerk is not asking me.” She gasps. “Oh my God. What if he doesn’t think I’m his forever person?” Before anyone can answer, she releases a rushed breath, then starts to laugh. “Okay, that’s just crazy. Of course I’m his forever person. Jeez.”
I just nod along. I learned a long time ago that Summer Heyward-Di Laurentis is capable of having entire conversations all by herself.
Suddenly, she turns it on me. “Wait. Are you actually telling me you wouldn’t marry Dicky if he asked you right now?” she challenges.
Dean’s childhood nickname makes me grin. “Well, he’s not asking, so that question is also moot.”
“But if he was?” she pushes. “You wouldn’t say yes?” “I…I don’t know. Truthfully, I probably wouldn’t even let
him ask.”
“Really?” Hannah looks startled.
I shrug, because I don’t know how to put it into words.
It’s not that I don’t love Dean. Of course I do. And of course I envision us getting married and having a family one day. One day being the operative words.
Grace joins the discussion, one eyebrow raised. “Are you saying he might not be your forever person?”
That summons a growl from Summer. “You better not be saying that, because I already have a design in mind for our custom sisters-in-law Christmas onesies.”
“I’m not saying that at all,” I protest. “Dean is absolutely my forever person. We’re end game. But to me, getting engaged isn’t just one step. It’s, like, three steps all joined together. An engagement should be immediately followed by getting married, which should be closely followed by starting a family, and I’m not ready for any of those steps. Being a mom in the near future sounds terrifying to me.” I glance over at Sabrina. “No offense.”
“None taken.” She offers a dry smile. “It was terrifying to me too. Getting pregnant my senior year of college was definitely not part of the plan. If you’re not ready to have a kid, don’t let anyone pressure you into it.”
“Dean’s not pressuring me,” I assure her. “But like I said, all those steps are connected for me. I’d rather get married when I know I’m ready for the rest of it. Just do it all at once, know what I mean? I think I’m explaining this badly.”
Summer shrugs. “No, that makes sense. See, I don’t care if I’m engaged for like five years. I’d just be happy having something sparkly to wear while I wait for the go- ahead to plan the most epic wedding.” She holds out her hand, which is already covered in sparkly things. Summer is basically a fashion icon. Expensive clothes and jewelry are her religion.
“You look like you’re doing okay for now,” I say with a smile.
“That’s different. I want one from Fitzy. And I can’t wait to design my own wedding gown.” She gives Sabrina a stern look. “And you, you’d better be wearing your dress at the reception. I’m dying to see it.”
Sabrina flushes slightly. “It’s really not anything fancy,” she tells Dean’s fashionista little sister.
“Doesn’t matter. I know you’re going to look beautiful in it regardless,” Summer proclaims. Her green eyes dance happily. “Oh, I love weddings so much! Are you excited? This is so exciting!”
“SO EXCITING!” Jamie randomly shouts out. Then she peers up at her mom. “What’s exciting?”
Sabrina laughs. “Life,” she tells her daughter. “And yes, I am excited. Although that’s another thing that wasn’t part of the plan—getting married. But Tuck and I already have a kid together. And he’s the one I want to be with for the rest of my life, so…” She trails off with a shrug.
The answering chorus of awws makes her blush harder.
“Mummy, you’re all red.” Jamie climbs into her mother’s lap and pokes Sabrina’s cheek with one sticky finger.
Sabrina narrows her eyes. “And you are covered in chocolate.”
I suddenly realize there are chocolate smears all over Jamie’s rosebud mouth.
“Where the heck did she get chocolate from?” Sabrina asks.
Everyone looks around the table. Most of the pastries have been devoured, and the ones left are mostly sugar cookies. We’d annihilated anything with chocolate fairly fast.
“Auntie Carin’s cookie fell on the floor and I picked it up and ate it!” Jamie announces proudly, and I almost choke on my laughter.
Sabrina sighs. “All right. Let’s get you cleaned up, little one.”
She grabs a napkin and wipes Jamie’s chocolate- smeared mouth. No sooner does she put the crumpled napkin down than Jamie shoves a cream-filled pastry in her mouth, and now she’s got icing sugar all over her face.
Sabrina reaches for another napkin.
Oh man. Kids are exhausting. Witnessing Sabrina’s infinite supply of patience is something else. And it just cements my decision to postpone all those pesky steps until later in my life.
Much, much later.
