Page 94 of Came the Closest
He rambles on, but I’m not listening. I’m trying to wrap my head around Travis being a dad, and the reality that I will be too. After I petition the court for adoption, I’m going to be a dad. I’ll know Milo’s favorite cake for his birthday. I’ll rummage for a Band-Aid when he scrapes his knee learning to ride a bike. I’ll drop everything, anything, to be there for him for the rest of my life.
I’m scared. I’m elated. I’m terrified. I’m impatiently ready.
But for the first time in my life, I’m also sure.
“Wait. If Meredith is pregnant, and you’re going to adopt your brother…” Travis looks at me directly, and his eyes go wide. “Colton, are we both going to be dads?”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “Yes, Travis, I do believe we are.”
Chapter Thirty
Lift Your Sails
Cheyenne
“Cheyenne, you are ravishing in that dress,” Indi breathes. She circles me slowly, her awe reflecting in my free-standing mirror. “I don’t hand out compliments frequently and I don’t say them to people whose egos will inflate. If that doesn’t prove my sincerity, I don’t know what will.”
I laugh and catch Indi to hug her. She stiffens for a moment before she reciprocates the embrace. I lower my voice to a stage whisper.
“Thank you. But after we get home later, we’ll wear flannel shorts and our most comfortable t-shirts, right?”
Indi, too, laughs. “I’ll have the popcorn ready. You’re going to tell me everything.” She pulls back and looks me dead in the eye. “I mean it, Chey. Every last thing.”
“Well, obviously.” Taking a deep breath, I smooth my hands over my hips. I analyze myself in the mirror, turning one way and then the other. “You’re sure that—”
“Cheyenne. Did you not just hear me?” Indi steps in front of me, hands propped on her own hips. “You look like a goddess who stepped down from her throne for the night to be with us lowly humans in the real world. That dress was made for you. Got it?”
“Got it,” I say, even though the dress was hardly made for me.
“Good.” Indi glances at her watch and grabs my white leather clutch from the foot of my bed. “Time to go. We need extra time to resuscitate my brother when he sees you.”
My cheeks flush, but I stop her. “Indi?”
She turns in the doorway.
“You’re sure you’re okay staying with Milo? I don’t—”
“Cheyenne,” she interrupts, voice softening. “It’s been my baby brother and me against the world since he was born. We’ll be fine.”
I hesitate. “You’re completely sure?”
“Ninety-nine point nine percent, yes.”
“Not one hundred?”
Indi tsks disapprovingly and grabs my hand, twirling me until we’re both laughing. “Not one hundred percent,” she confirms, “because what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you worry a tiny bit about a child you love? C’mon, let’s go knock my brother’s socks off.”
In this moment—arm linked through Indi’s as we descend the stairs of the lake house—I realize that I didn’t only get my best friend back at the beginning of this summer. I gained a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes, and a girl who has become more sister than friend.
Resuscitation was narrowly avoided for Colton, but it might be necessary for me before the night is over. Between my nerves, the rain lightly pummeling the windshield, and the ridiculously snug baby blue suit Colton wears, I’m a little frazzled.
But I’m also not.
Not with Colton’s fingertips pressing into my palm while he keeps conversation flowing. We don’t talk about anything notable—we reminisce on stumbling upon the weirdly satisfying combination of jalapeño potato chips and vanilla ice cream. We make empty bets about when Jordan will propose to Sydney (I say Christmas, Colt says doomsday). We banter about who actually decided to use the decorative mailbox in the first place all those years ago.
With Colton everything feels significant. After a marriage where most of what I said was belittled, this feels like the most important conversation of my life. It’s the monumentalism of a President’s inaugural speech and the simplicity of two best friends finding comfort in each other.
Colton parks in front of the brand-new gallery and passes the keys off to valet, then comes around to open my door. Rain dots his suit jacket, and he holds a striped umbrella over my head until we’ve made it through the revolving glass doors.