Drop Dead Gorgeous Extended Epilogue
Lauren Landish
Copyright © 2021 by Lauren Landish
All rights reserved.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Excerpt: My Big Fat Fake Wedding
Chapter 1
Zoey
Walking into my best friend’s house isn’t the way it used to be. Years ago, when Holly forcefully adopted me as her friend, there was a void I could feel. Not that she wasn’t an amazing single mom or that Olive wasn’t a happy five-year old child back then. To the contrary, they were a family of two that tackled the world by storm and I was largely in awe of their combined strength.
But now? There’s a buzz to the air in Holly’s home, palpable on your skin. You walk in the front door and you feel life, energy… happiness in a way I couldn’t begin to describe. Not because Holly has a man in her life that she loves, or that he’s holding another baby in his arms. Not even because of who that man is. But because they’ve created something wonderful and are changing lives for the better each and every day.
“Hey Jacob!” I’m happy to see him, but I keep my voice down in consideration of the almost-toddler in his arms that’s sleeping fitfully. Baby Finley is prone to talking in her sleep, her pink lips pursing and opening randomly.
“Hey Zo,” he whispers back, a smile stretching his mouth wide enough to show his white smile. He looks good… happy. And all grown up, which gives me the slightest twinge of parental pride even though Grandma and Grandpa had a lot more to do with that than I did. But I feel it for them, knowing how thrilled they be that the kid they’d brought home like a lost puppy has become such a good man. He’s tall now, finishing his growth spurt during college at just over six-foot, and no longer skinny, but wide and muscled from hours in the gym doing workouts with Blake and Trey. For twenty-three, he looks tired though, with soft smudges of purple under his eyes.
“Finley not sleep last night?” I ask, rubbing her back softly and cooing to her while Jacob bounces her. She looks like a tiny burrito on his broad chest, the black ink of his tattoo peeking out his shirt sleeve in stark contrast to the pink bunnies of Finley’s blanket.
“No, but she’s doing better. I’m gonna lay her down. You mind helping Hols with the cake?” He leans down, whispering lowly, “Make sure you tell her it looks good. She was stressing about the decorations.”
I smile at the request. He takes good care of Holly, always has and always will. It took Holly a long time to see it, and even longer to be open to Jacob, but somehow, he got the woman he always wanted. Once he grew up a little more, though their age difference hasn’t been a thing in a while. Especially when you see the two of them together. The love they feel for each other, and for Olive and their foster daughter, Finley, radiates from inside them. That’s what makes this house so different now. Their family.
In the kitchen, I find Blake helping set out the food he carried in. Blake made a crockpot of meatballs and I prepared cucumber sandwiches to go with the ‘party punch’ Olive requested.
“Okay, and the cups go on the drink station. The forks go by the plates, and… what else? What am I missing?” Holly asks. Maybe she’s talking to Blake? Or more likely, she’s talking to herself because Blake is frozen with a confused, ‘what do I do first?’ expression on his face.
“Hugging me?” I suggest, holding my arms out wide.
Holly smiles and I can see some of the stress melt off of her. Reinforcements have arrived. “Zo! Thank God!” She throws one arm over my shoulder and gives me a distracted hug. “Can you… uh…” She waves her hands around the kitchen, gesturing to everything, “Help?”
“Of course.” I pick up the closest tray of snacks so I look busy and Blake gives me a grateful look.
He kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear, “Thanks for the rescue, Mrs. Hale. Let me know when to start the grill for hot dogs.”
I whisper back into his ear, “Just let me know when Fernanda gets here with the sangria. Holly’s gonna need her Yeti-tumbler on auto-refill today.”
He nods with a smirk and disappears back into the living room to hunt down Jacob. They’ve become good friends too, not just from their workouts, but also from playing video games and going out for an occasional beer. Though we have yet to get Jacob to come to a trivia night. We probably never will now that him and Holly have a new little one to care for.
The oven dings and I choose that to address first because the last thing we need is the smoke detectors going off and waking Finley up when she’s finally asleep. I pull the pizza rolls out, nibbling on one even though I know it’s too hot. I never learn because they’re so good, even if Holly is making them for the kids.
“How’re you doing, Holly?” I ask, blowing on the lava insides of my swiped snack.
“Good. You?” she answers robotically, still moving about the kitchen setting out bowls of chips and dip.
“Really?” I challenge, wanting a true answer. She looks tired, her purple smudges matching Jacob’s. “Talk to me.”
Her sigh is heavy as she spins to lean against the kitchen counter. “Can I tell you something as my best friend and not Jacob’s sister-mother-friend?” She looks uncertain if that’s a possibility, or maybe as though whatever she wants to say is going to pull at my loyalties.
I lift one brow appraisingly. “Depends. Did you or Jacob, or anyone else, do something I’m gonna kill them for? If that’s the case, no promises.” My shrug is casual, as if discussing murderous consequences is no big deal. For us, it’s not, though luckily, it’s never come to that.
“Nothing like that. I’m just not sure if Jacob-“ Her words cut off as tears start running down her cheeks.
I rush to her, gathering her in my arms. “Oh honey, what’s wrong. What did that idiot do?”
“He’s not…” she sniffs, “he didn’t do anything. He’s… awesome.” She doesn’t sound like she believes what she’s saying. In fact, the ‘awesome’ drawls out extra-long, becoming a whine.
“Hols, you’re freaking me out. What’s wrong?” I say, calm and quiet. And verging on deadly. Jacob is my family, but if he’s making Holly cry, I’ll reconsider my moratorium on murder.
She takes a steadying breath, looking up to the ceiling. “Nobody knows yet, Zo, but… I’m pregnant.”
“What?” I yell joyfully. Holly’s hand smacks over my mouth, her eyes imploring me to shut up. Against her hand, I smile. And slowly, her face transforms into a hopeful smile too.
Her hand falls from my mouth and she repeats, “I’m pregnant.”
This time, I’m ready for it and don’t squeal. “Congratulations, Hols! That’s awesome, right?”
Her single nod doesn’t reassure me. “I think so, but do you think Jacob’s going to think so?” She doesn’t wait for my answer, but keeps rambling. “Olive’s ten, Finley’s not even two, and now, we’ll have a third. Jacob’s only twenty-three, for fuck’s sake.”
“Breathe,” I coach her, inhaling and exhaling with her like she’s already in labor, though judging by her flat belly, that’s a long way away. “Do you know what Jacob’s dream has always been?” Holly takes another breath, shaking her head even though I know she knows the answer. She just wants to hear it from someone else, someone she trusts. “A big family with you. Since he was way too young, that’s what he wanted. He put in the work to go to school, get his degree, and find a job that would support that goal. Most importantly, he waited for you to be ready to truly see him, and you
did. You do. You know he is head over heels for you, Holly. And he’s going to be so thrilled. Hell, he already struts around like a proud rooster, crowing about his girls, and one more – hell, two or three more – is only going to add to that.”
“You think so?” she hiccups.
“I know so.” I tilt my head, giving her a pointed look. “And you know so too, don’t you?”
Her sniffle signals the end of her hysterical moment. “I do. I’m just nervous, and hormonal, I think. I wasn’t like this with Olive. I knew I was alone, knew it was all on my shoulders with her, but this time, I want to have a baby with Jacob, and I’m scared he’s going to bolt.”
Unable to stop myself, I laugh at that, even though my best friend is honestly fearful. But the fear is so ridiculously unfounded. “He might run… upstairs to start renovations and get the nursery ready. And to the home improvement store for paint and a crib. Knowing Jacob, he’ll stop by that ice cream place and get you a pint too. The only real danger here is that he’s going to strap you to the couch and wait on you hand and foot for the next nine months.”
“That might not be so bad,” Holly admits.
“What might not be so bad?” Amy says, barging into the kitchen with a big pitcher of red, fruit-filled liquid and into the conversation with zero fucks given.
“Oh, uh…” Holly blinks, apparently unable to think on her feet with a new baby requiring all her blood supply and leaving her brain foggy.
“If we eat all the pizza rolls and leave the hot dogs for the kids,” I answer quickly.
“I’m down for that,” Amy agrees, and after setting the sangria Fernanda made on the far counter, she helps herself to three pizza rolls. One goes in her mouth, and she holds two at the ready. “How can these be so disgusting and so good all at the same time?”
“Magic potion dust,” I deadpan, wiggling my fingers over the cookie sheet of snacks. Amy and Holly laugh, but when Amy dips the second roll into the ranch dip, Holly turns a little green. She’s not going to be able to keep the pregnancy a secret for long if she’s reacting like that. Jacob will definitely notice. He always notices everything about Holly.
“If you don’t need me, I think I’ll go see if Miles is terrorizing Olive. He made a scavenger hunt for them to do, and when they complete it, he’ll give her the gift we bought her. But I think he’s mostly excited to use the paint and canvases we got for Olive himself. At least it’ll keep them busy and having fun,” Amy says.
“Oh, Olive will love that,” Holly gushes. Olive and Miles became good friends years ago, ironically bonding because everyone was shuffling around to take care of me after I was kidnapped. I’m fine, now. No residual effects, other than I don’t like dark, enclosed spaces. But that’s easy enough to avoid. But when the kids bonded in those early days, they’d either stayed with Jacob or Amy and Fernanda so that Holly and Blake could spend as much time with me as possible. I think Holly seeing Jacob with Olive was what made her first open her eyes and really see him too.
“I need to tell Blake to fire up the grill too. I’ll be right back?” I ask Holly, wanting to make sure she’s on steady ground before I leave her. She nods easily, her mood chipper now. Yeah, hormones might do a number on her this time. Not that I knew her when she was pregnant with Olive, but if this feels different to her, maybe she’s having a boy this time?
I touch the wooden pendant hanging at my throat for luck. I know Jacob and Holly will love the baby whole-heartedly, no matter what, but a mini-Jacob would be especially poignant, I think. A family is so much more than blood. It’s those that choose you, and that you choose, but knowing Jacob has someone just like him, after so many years without, would be bittersweet.
Outside, I see Jacob and Blake, each with a beer in their hands, talking to Fernanda and overseeing what looks to be the scavenger hunt. I sidle up to Blake, easily slipping my arm around his waist and snuggling into him. He’s warm and solid, his muscles hard beneath my palm when I slip my hand into the back pocket of his jeans.
When there’s a lull in the conversation, I tell Blake, “Fire it up, Mr. Hale. I’m ready for a long, thick wiener.”
Fernanda laughs and throws us a trivia joke, “What is ‘something I’ve never said, Alex?’”
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the wieners. You can see if there’s one you like,” Blake teases Fernanda, but they walk off together toward the grill as Blake tells her some hot dog trivia.
Jacob takes a long pull of his beer, looking at me over the bottle through narrowed eyes. I look back, blank faced. I can’t share Holly’s secret. It’s hers to tell Jacob when she’s ready, but damned if I don’t want to tell him fiercely. “She tell you?” Jacob asks so quietly I almost think I imagined it.
I gape, staring at him with an open mouth and even wider eyes. “What?”
I’m a shit liar and we both know it, so when Jacob chuckles, I give up the charade I’m not pulling off successfully anyway. “You know?”
“Of course I know,” Jacob answers, as if that was a stupid question. “I think I knew before she did. I could tell by her tits.”
“TMI, Jacob. Best friend and brother… foul on the play.”
“What?” he asks innocently. “It’s not like I said her taste changed, got sweeter. Though I’ve heard that can happen too.”
“Ack! Lalalala… Don’t say that!” I put my fingers in my ears, pretending I did not hear that. “Just go in there and give her a hug, asshole. She’s freaking out, thinking you’re gonna freak out.” I point toward the house with a thumb, telling him exactly where to go and it’s not only the kitchen. Anywhere where we’re not having a talk about sex works for me.
Jacob scoffs, the picture of calm. Until an evil little gleam enters his eyes, “Might be time for you to join the kid parade too, Zo. You and Blake ain’t getting any younger.”
I make a sound of displeasure, smacking his shoulder with the back of my hand. “You take that back.” His laughter hangs in the air long after he’s gone into the kitchen, and as I look out over the yard with kids playing and see Blake manning the grill, I can feel my ovaries twitch… a little. Maybe.
Blake
Something’s on Zoey’s mind. I can tell by the way she watches from the outside all day, not playing with kids or joining in the adults’ conversations, but simply sitting back and letting them all flow right over her. She keeps looking at Holly and Jacob too. I’d think there was something wrong, but Holly is smiling dreamily. And I don’t think it has anything to do with Fernanda’s sangria. It’s delicious, and definitely brings out some happy feelings, but Holly seems to be floating on a different level of happiness. And I’m pretty sure I saw Jacob filling her Yeti-tumbler with La Croix, not sangria. Blech, how does she drink that stuff anyway? It tastes like someone passed a lime in the vicinity of carbonated water and it slightly absorbed a fraction of the essence of the fruit, but not the actual taste.
Hours after Olive has opened her presents, completed Miles’ scavenger hunt, and blown out her birthday candles, we finally head home. The car ride to our house on the county outskirts is quiet as Zoey fiddles with her necklace mindlessly. I don’t think she even knows she’s doing it, but I let her figure out whatever it is that’s on her mind. I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready, and I think it’s something good because she keeps smiling softly in between brow furrows.
The dam finally breaks when we get home and are getting ready for bed. I’ve got a mouth full of toothpaste when Zoey asks, “What do you think about children?”
I gag a little on the foam, and it sputters out onto the mirror and dribbles down my chin. I’m sure I look a bit rabid, but I quickly spit. I grab a towel and wipe my chin, “Uhm.. I think they’re great. Cute, cuddly, fun.”
“You sound like you’re describing Chunky, not a baby.”
“Well, the adjectives do fit both, but I get the feeling that’s maybe not what you really want to ask.” I hold my breath, willing my heart rate to slow, as my hands fist as my
side.
Steady, Blake. Don’t spook her.
Zoey nibbles her lip, her chin dropping like she’s nervous. I crowd into her, sharing the same space as I put my hands on her hips. “Zoey, look at me.” Slowly, an inch at a time, she lifts her head and meets my eyes. “Talk to me. What’s going on that gorgeous mind of yours?”
“What would you think about us having children? Or a child? Maybe just one? Like to start? Or I don’t know…” The words get faster and faster, her eyes wider and wider, until she shrugs like she didn’t plan out how to say any of that.
I pick her up, dropping her to the bathroom counter and making room for myself between her thighs. “Zoey Hale, I would have a baby with you any time you want to. Tonight, right now,” I vow.
She laughs lightly, her fingers tracing the dusting of hair on my chest. “I’m serious,” she tells me.
“So am I.”
So much hope fills her eyes in an instant that they glisten with unshed tears. “Really? You mean it?”
Instead of answering with words – something we’re usually so good at – I let my actions do the speaking. I reach into the vanity drawer and grab her birth control pills. Standing by the trash can, I meet her eyes and lift my brow in question. She nods and I drop them.
And like that… Zoey Hale and I are going to have a baby. It might not be tonight, though I’m certainly going to enjoy trying, but soon.
She trusts me that we’ll be okay. She has faith that our baby will be okay. And most of all, she has hope that no matter what, we’ll create some good luck all our own, even if it does take a bit of knocking on wood.
I return to her, cupping her face to kiss her, vowing a long life of love, happiness, and joy with every caress of my tongue. I scoop her up again, and her legs instinctively wrap around my waist. Carefully, I carry her to the bedroom and toss her to the bed.
DDG Extended Epilogue Page 1