I don’t know how Cricket sexes up a cutesy pink maternity shirt with an adorable big-eyed owl on the front. Despite how much tension hangs in the air, I can’t take my fricking eyes off of her. Hayes grudgingly accepts a beer from my father while Chipper decides to wait for moonshine. Justice and her sisters invite Candy inside the house where it’s cooler. Cricket considers joining them but eventually sits next to me in a lawn chair.

“How are my babies?” I ask, leaning over to kiss her round bump. “Are they behaving for their mama?”

“Whipped,” Emmett mutters from nearby. I’d be more irritated by his insult if the man wasn’t wrapped very fricking tightly around Aunt Poppy’s finger.

Cricket gives Emmett a dirty look, though, because she likes glaring at people. I ignore their pissing match and focus instead on my babies. I feel a hard kick on the right side of her bump, and a lazy one on the left. If my twins are anything like Cricket and Chipper, the girl is the one trying to kick her way to freedom while her brother calmly waits for the exit to open on its own.

“Have you been thinking about names?” I ask for the millionth time.

“Yes, but you won’t like them, and I won’t like you for not liking my great taste.”

Cradling her bump possessively, I admit, “I don’t care if you like me as long as you love me.”

“Oh, then, I was thinking about the name Minnow if we have a girl.”

“Awful,” someone yells. Searching for the offender, I suspect it’s Henrietta out in the yard with my cousins and a very awkward Cap.

“You know because we watch ‘Gilligan’s Island,’” Cricket adds while caressing my hand on her stomach.

“Minnow is a fish,” Chipper says nearby with his eyes closed.

“Cricket is an insect,” Cricket snaps. “What’s your fucking point?”

Chipper never opens his eyes while a smirk slides across his face. “That’s right. You’re a bug.”

Cricket rolls her eyes before returning her gaze to me. “I think it sounds cute. Of course, we’re not a hundred percent sure we’re having a girl.”

“If the girl was Minnow, what would the boy be?”

“Trout,” Chipper suggests, laughing before the word finishes leaving his mouth.

Hayes laughs loudly, and I hear my uncle snickering. One of them suggests “Guppy,” while someone else whispers, “Flounder.”

Cricket refuses to look in their direction. “I want a boy name that starts with ‘M’ if we do name the girl Minnow. I want them to match like Chip and I do.”

“But not rhyme because that’s just weird,” Chipper says, still refusing to open his eyes as if the world isn’t worth enduring without moonshine.

“He’s right. That is just weird.”

Rubbing her belly for good luck, I whisper, “Let’s see if Baby B is a girl. While we wait to find out, I’ll get used to the name Minnow.”

“I have another ultrasound scheduled in two weeks. Will you come to it?”

“Of course.”

“The appointment doesn’t fall on our four-day weekend schedule,” she says, studying me with her rich brown eyes.

“It’s time I shared your bed on a Wednesday.”

Grinning, Cricket tightens her grip on my hand. “I’m redoing my bedroom for you. Bianca Bella is organizing the revamp. It was her idea actually. She says a manly man doesn’t want to sleep under a chandelier.”

“You don’t have to change anything,” I say while mentally thankful to have the chandelier gone.

“I think she just wants to move it to her room. Bianca Bella likes to steal shit from people. She rarely does, but I know she struggles with the urge. Anyway, she’s right that my room is too ultra-feminine for you.”

“Hey, want to walk to my trailer? I bet you won’t care about my taste once you see it up close and personal.”

“Okay,” Cricket says and wiggles to get her balance before pushing up from the chair. “We’re heading to Poet’s trailer. Don’t follow us.”

“Be back in no more than twenty-three minutes,” Hayes instantly demands.

“No.”

Cricket hugs her stepdad who never loses his frown when stating, “Twenty-five is all you’re getting before I send your brothers to retrieve you.”

“Speaking of your boy,” Emmett says, “are you sure he’s only twelve?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.”

“He doesn’t look twelve. He looks old enough to vote.”

“What’s your fucking point?” Cricket asks Emmett before Hayes can.

“Well, what the hell do you Butternuts feed your kids to make them so damn huge?”

Chipper sits up suddenly, wearing a darkly serious expression. “We eat the hearts of our enemies. The protein makes us grow strong.”

Cricket grins at her brother and then pulls me down the steps of the deck. “Let’s go before I have to yell at someone else.”

I wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide her toward my trailer. Behind us, my father mentions something about Hayes not riding a motorcycle. Hayes then says “fuck” about thirty times before we get too far to hear him any longer. I don’t know what happens next, but I’m happy to miss more of the pissing match.