The Belle and the Beard by Kate Canterbary (good book club books .txt) 📕

"That's it," he murmured.

I blinked up at his reflection. "What?"

"I'm driving you to lunch."

The only response I could manage was "Okay."

"I'm so happy we could make this happen," Magnolia said as she clinked her glass against mine and Zelda's. "No one told me the third trimester would be so busy. Let that be a lesson to you two."

Zelda and I exchanged a glance that said we're not seeing a third trimester any time soon.

"I'll note that," Zelda said with a laugh. "I hope I remember in five or six years when I'm ready to think about getting pregnant."

Magnolia waved a hand in the other woman's direction. "Don't worry. I'll remind you."

I laughed down at my menu. I didn't want to think about babies, not in any personal way. I could handle the abstract notion of babies, even the localized idea of them in the sense that Linden would soon be an uncle, but not when it came any closer.

It couldn't come any closer.

"That's entirely enough about me," Magnolia said. "All anyone ever wants to talk about is me and the contents of my uterus, which is entertaining at first but gets old. I want to talk about the beautiful ladies in my brothers' lives. Do you know how long I've waited for a lunch like this? Dude, I was starting to think it was never going to happen."

Zelda busied herself with unfolding the cloth napkin in front of her and spreading it over her lap. She had a shiny ring of sapphires and diamonds on her left hand. Ash wasn't the one who'd held up Magnolia's fantasy lunch plans. This was about Linden and his long history of casual relationships—and me, the woman who crashed into his life and hadn't cleared out yet.

I had the overwhelming urge to explain to these women that I didn't know where I'd land next and I probably wouldn't be a fixture of their Santillian girls' lunches and I didn't see how I'd be the one to make it happen for Linden.

Magnolia wasn't having a second of it. "I know what you're thinking," she said, "and I get it."

I was thinking my ass hurt, I probably had a bruise across my bikini line from the bathroom counter, and I didn't belong in Magnolia's regular rotation of lunch companions.

She gave me a kind smile. "Things are new. I get it but I'm still happy you're in Linden's life." With a tip of her head to the side, she added, "Right now."

That part was for my benefit though it was obvious she hoped for much more. I wasn't sure I could do the same. I wasn't sure I could look more than a few days or weeks ahead.

"Just don't make her try on any wedding dresses today," Zelda said.

"For the record, that was my mother. Not me." Magnolia glanced to me. "We were there for my final fitting. There were dresses everywhere. It's not like I planned to put Zelda in a dressing room but it worked out well. She doesn't have to find a dress now. Cross that off the wedding planning list."

Zelda made a checkmark in the air. "One less thing to worry about."

The waiter sidled up to the table to take our orders. While the other women requested Caesar salads without anchovies and an order of fries for the table, I planned my pivot. Linden and I could not be the subject of this lunch and we couldn't make it all about me either. God, no.

When the waiter stepped away, I shifted toward Zelda. "You have the dress. Do y'all have a date?"

She bobbed her head as she reached for the bread basket. "No, I'm a super huge problem child when it comes to setting a date. My field work schedule—I'm in grad school, by the way—is up in the air for a few more months. I have a good idea what the next year or two will look like but I can't commit to anything until it's finalized."

"Ash is going to carry you off to Lake Tahoe some weekend and elope," Magnolia said. "Unless he's already done it."

"I can promise you he has not carried me off to Tahoe yet," Zelda replied. "Mentioned it, yes. Hasn't done it."

Magnolia glanced to me. "He'll do it. His patience wouldn't fill a shot glass."

Zelda shook her head in a patient, conciliatory kind of way that seemed to suggest Magnolia knew an awful lot about her brother—but not everything. "I'm not sure I'd say that," she said, her attention again fixed on the bread. "He wants the big party of a wedding."

"You could have a big engagement party," Magnolia said. "Then go elope."

"He wants a big party for a wedding," Zelda replied gently.

"What do you want?" I asked.

She gave me a quick shrug. "I don't have too many priorities. I just want to end up married." She reached over, patted my forearm. "The party and the whole big event, they don't occur to me as things I'd want because I've never had parties just for me. That's why I defer to Ash. He thinks we deserve a special day to celebrate with our friends and family, and I have to remind myself he's right. He's right and we should wait until we can set a date because it wouldn't be the same without the celebration."

I found myself staring at her, slightly dazed, as I worked through those words. Then, without any consideration whatsoever, I admitted, "I haven't had many parties either."

"Then you understand," Zelda said, her hand still fixed on my forearm. "You know how odd it is to plan something big and grand just for yourself."

"I'm not sure I could."

She smiled, saying, "That's where Ash comes in. If I tell myself it's for him—and he reminds me it's for us—I can get past the awkwardness of doing something that tends to feel deeply selfish."

"It's easier