Page 21 of Hot Life
Cedric took the backseat of my Prius and Des got up front. Cedric replied, “Some punk friend of Desmond’s was acting inappropriately.”
“Oh, so you started a bar fight?” I sped down the road. I didn’t have much time before my wife or Dolly started texting, asking what was taking so long.
“Des started a bar fight.”
“Oh, bull shit. That was all you. Okay, a tiny bit me, but mostly you. The look on that bouncer’s face when you hit him…”
Cedric chuckled. And then Desmond chuckled. And then they were laughing like hyenas. My head pounded.
“Shit, we need to get Dolly ice cream.” I remembered and peeled into the parking lot of a grocery store.
“I got it,” Des replied, wiping tears from his eyes. “Let the jail bird here gain his composure.”
Cedric broke the silence. “Thank you, Odette. For bailing me out, your discretion, and for being there for Dot. It means a lot. We don’t tell you that enough.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to push the feelings down. “You’d do the same for me.”
Moments later, Des was back.
I took off before remembering. “Crap, I forgot to tell you the flavor she wanted—”
“Strawberry?” He raised a cocky eyebrow.
My eyes almost rolled out of my head, but I grinned. Even if he was more brawn than brains, at least he loved her.
We pulled up to the house, my brothers-in-law concocting plans on how to get their cars back and what to tell my sister.
“You know this is going on your permanent record, Dr. Winslow. What will the medical board think?”
“No, it’s not,” Ced replied, slamming his car door. “Is it?”
Des cackled. “It is. It totally is.”
“I am never letting you guys forget this.”
Desmond wrapped an arm around my shoulder and messed up my hair in that brotherly way he always did. “Wouldn’t expect any less, little sis.”
Despite myself, I maybe sort of liked the guy.
I liked how they were to my sister and that she loved them. But a part of me liked having them around too, I guessed. They were alright. If not idiots.
thirty-eight weeks pregnant
BABY IS THE SIZE OF A WHOLE ASS BABY NOW.
The forecast called for a blizzard in December. Typically not something Georgia experienced, but my husbands assured me we were ready. In fact, Desmond was excited to chop wood, and I was excited to watch. Cedric had boasted about his foresight in installing a backup generator, and Caroline and Odie had us stocked with enough food to feed a small army. After making all those last minute, eerie feeling preparations in the still frigid cold, waiting for the first flakes, I settled into my pillow fort and went about choosing a nature documentary. I had to pry the remote from Cedric and Des who were standing, watching The Weather Channel all day. Dad mode had apparently activated for them both.
My belly had grown to uncomfortable proportions. I needed help with everything from putting on my pants to rolling over in bed. The over-tending that irritated me so much in early pregnancy had now become a necessity. I wondered how women without a team of men and women survived. For me, there was always someone there to help. Caroline kept a steady flow of snacks and water coming my way, Des had an almost psychic ability to know when I needed help dressing or undressing, and Cedric checked my blood pressure three times a day and kept a log for my records. Always calm, always assuring. The perfect doctor. The dogs curled into little fluff balls by the fire as I swaddled myself into a warm cocoon. Desmond walked in wearing…flannel. That was new…and sexy. With his cropped beard and tattoos peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves, he looked like a lumber-snack. “Just started snowing,” he proclaimed, rubbing his neck. “It’s really coming down, and it’s icier than the forecast predicted.”
“Welcome to the south, where they always get the weather wrong,” I chimed with a smile.
Cedric closed the front door and shrugged off his coat, joining us. “Indeed. I think we’re in for more than they called for.”
“Good thing my husbands prepared us so well,” I snuggled under Desmond’s arm. He smelled like campfire and my lavender lotion. I pulled back. “I can’t believe you tattooed my name on your neck.”
He smirked. “Cedric’s is more romantic. Over the heart was the placement I would have chosen if I weren’t already inked there.”
“I just have better foresight, I guess,” Cedric bantered, sitting next to me and putting a hand on my thigh.