Back in my apartment, I changed out of my jeans and shirt and put on black pants, a blush-colored blouse that tied around the neck, and low heels. We were actually just going to have lunch at her house, but I still wanted to appear professional. I’d learned a lot from both Mia and Coco, including that personal appearances matter, especially in our business.

Not that Nate had noticed much about my appearance this morning.

Annoyed, I frowned at my reflection as I wound my hair into a bun. Was I being unreasonable? Needy? Impatient? Had I been wrong about myself last night?

Maybe. But I didn’t think so. And I couldn’t shake the sense of resentment brewing as I drove over to Coco’s. My expectations were pretty low, but they weren’t nonexistent. I didn’t need to be the center of his universe, but I’d at least like to feel like a part of the sky.

Coco and her husband, Nick, lived in a big, beautiful old home in Indian Village, one of Detroit’s historic neighborhoods. They claimed it had been a giant mess when they bought it, and that something was always going wrong with it, but to my eye it looked perfect. Big flowerbeds waiting to be planted out front, huge rooms with high ceilings and crown moldings, gorgeous original wood floors that creaked when you walked on them, reminding you this house had a history. They had bumped out the back of the house in order to put on an addition with a big modern kitchen and family room, and since the house had been built on a double lot they’d still had enough room to put in a pool and patio with a built-in grill. Nick was a chef and owned several restaurants in the city, as well as the apartment building Nate and I lived in, which was how I managed to afford such a beautiful loft. They gave me a great deal on the rent.

I knocked on the big wooden front door about 12:15, and Nick answered it. Like Nate, Nick was tall, dark, and handsome, although in an entirely different way. Nick was clean-shaven, with olive skin and deep brown eyes, and his arms were sleeved with tattoos. I’d attended several pool parties here at their house and knew that he had them on his back and chest too. Once I asked him if he had a favorite, and he pointed to the one on his left pec, which was a heart with an arrow through it and said Coco at the top. “It was my first one,” he’d told me, “and will always be my favorite.” Coco had rolled her eyes, but she’d kissed his cheek, and I could tell she was happy about it. I was sort of in love with them as a couple. Not in a creepy way—but for me, they were the gold standard of a relationship, and Nick was the ultimate husband. All man, but not afraid to let his feelings show.

“Hey, Emme. Come on in.” He stepped back so I could enter, and immediately two small, dark-haired boys rushed into the front hall, circling his feet and mine like excited puppies. “Knock it off, you two,” he scolded. “Mommy already told you to go play upstairs.”

The two boys dutifully headed up the stairs, the littler one grabbing the back of the bigger one’s shirt so he could scoot past him and beat him to the top. I smiled and slipped off my coat. “No school today?”

Nick took my coat and hung it up in the front hall closet. “Gianni’s still at school. Those two monkeys had preschool this morning. I picked them up at eleven and fed them quickly so they’d stay out of your way. Come on back, girls are in the kitchen.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll warn you—Coco’s a little grumpy.”

I nodded, figuring at nine months pregnant, that was her right. “Got it.”

I followed him down the hall into the kitchen, a beautiful open space with white cupboards, marble countertops, tons of copper cookware hanging over the island cooktop, and a big farmhouse sink. It smelled absolutely divine, like lemon and garlic and sautéed chicken. My mouth began to water. 

Coco was sitting at the kitchen table, her bare feet propped on an adjacent chair. Her long dark hair was heaped in a nest at the top of her head, and she wore what looked like one of Nick’s black Burger bar T-shirts, her pregnant stomach bulging at the front, distorting the logo, and a pair of gray sweatpants. That’s how I knew for sure she must be really uncomfortable, because she never wore sweatpants. Ever.

Mia jumped out of the chair across from Coco’s. “Hi!” she squealed, running at me with her arms open. She was on the short side, like me, but dark-haired, and dressed much more casually in jeans and a V-neck T-shirt that said Abelard Vineyards on the front.

“Hi,” I said, hugging her hard. “It’s so good to see you. You look great.”

“So do you. Come sit.” She tugged on my hand, leading me over to the table.

I took the chair next to Mia’s and set my bag on the floor. “How are you feeling?” I asked Coco.

She scowled. “Like I swallowed a mean alien shaped like a beach ball with arms and legs he’s determined to beat me with from the inside out.”

“He?” I looked from her to Mia and back to her again. As far as I knew, Coco and Nick hadn’t wanted to learn the sex before birth. “You know for sure it’s another boy?”

“No,” said Nick firmly from behind us. “We don’t.”

“Why wouldn’t it be a boy?” Coco asked, throwing her hands up. “I had three boys in a row. I think that’s the only kind of baby we know how to make.” She narrowed her eyes. “Either that or my grandmother put some sort of hex on me.”

Mia laughed. “Well, you never know. Maybe this one will surprise you.”

“Lunch in five minutes, ladies.” Nick went over to the fridge and opened it. “Emme, can I get you something to drink? We have water, sparkling water, iced tea, Diet Coke, white wine, red wine, sparkling —”

“Oooh, try the sparkling.” Mia lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I brought it.”

“Wiiiiiiine,” Coco moaned. “God, I miss wine. How long until I can have some again?”

“Babe, you could be sipping champagne tonight if you’d just pop that baby out,” Nick answered cheerfully.

Coco put two hands on her belly. “Are you listening? Time to come out. Mama needs a glass of wine.”

“I’ll try the sparkling, thanks,” I said to Nick. “Are you having any contractions?” I asked Coco.

She nodded. “A ton. In fact, I’m thinking this baby is coming sooner rather than later. Are you okay to handle everything at work this week?”

“Absolutely,” I said, taking the glass of wine Nick handed me.

“Good. Amy can help you out, and Mia said she’d be willing to work too, if you need her.”

“Definitely. I’m here until Thursday,” Mia said.

Amy was Coco’s assistant, and she had taken on a lot of extra work since Lucy quit. In fact, she’d done so well that we hadn’t even replaced the Traitor. “I’ll probably be fine with Amy, but it would be fun to work together,” I said to Mia.

She smiled. “I think so too. In fact, speaking of working together, I wanted to ask you about something.” Both of us sat back as Nick came over with two plates and set them in front of us.

“Here you go, ladies. Chicken Piccata, some veggies, a little gnocchi…”

“Looks delicious,” I said, inhaling the aroma. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He winked at me before going back to make a plate for his wife, and I thought again how lucky Coco was.

“So what’s up?” I asked Mia, picking up my fork.

“What would you say to moving up north this summer and helping me start a new branch of Devine Events? We do so many special events at Abelard—tons of weddings—and I often get calls to design events for other spaces. I could really use someone to help.”

“What about Skylar?” I asked, naming Mia’s assistant.

“She had twins last fall and is taking a year off. I’ve been trying to get along without her, but I really can’t. Not during summertime.”

“What about Devine Events here?” I looked at Coco.

“I told Mia that I would need you for at least the next two months to get me through the newborn days and to help train Amy. She’s good, but she’s no Emme Devine.” She smiled at me as Nick set a plate in front of her.

“Thanks.” My heart fluttered happily at the compliment. I was confident at my job, but it was always nice to hear praise from someone you admired.

“And that’s totally fine,” Mia said. “I can deal with things for two months. June is when it really picks up, anyway. And it’s beautiful up there in the summer. You’ll love it.”

“You should go,” Coco encouraged. “Something different. Get out of the rut.”

I stuck a bite of chicken piccata in my mouth and wondered if she was referring to a professional rut or a personal rut. Seemed like a bad sign that I wasn’t sure.

“And if you don’t want to stay after summer is over, you can come back down to Detroit.” Mia picked up her wine glass. “Skylar will be ready to come back by then, and she could help me hire someone new. But if you like it and want to stay, great.”

I thought about it as I took another bite. I had loved it up there when I went to visit Mia last summer. Old Mission Peninsula, where Abelard was located, was beautiful—rolling hills, gorgeous fields and orchards, picturesque views of the water. And Traverse City, right at the foot of the peninsula, had a nice small-town feel without being too small, great beaches, and plenty of shopping. Both places would offer lots of unique settings for events, and I was sure I’d enjoy the work. But it would mean leaving life here behind…leaving Nate behind, and last night it had felt like we were right on the cusp of something good. Moving five hours away in two months would probably put an end to whatever it was. Seemed like it was going to be tough enough living right across the hall.

“Can I have some time to think about it?” I asked.

“Of course.” Mia gestured broadly with her hand. “Take a couple weeks. A month, even.”

“Thanks.”

Suddenly, from above our heads came the sound of loud thumping.

Coco sighed. “Nick, the boys are jumping on the bed again. Can you please get them off?”

“I’m on it,” he said. “Enjoy lunch, ladies. There’s plenty more if you’d like.” He left us alone, and we finished our plates, then went for seconds. We talked about Devine Events, the winery, the possibilities for different kinds of events there and other locations up north, and by the time we were done eating, I was actually really torn about making the move. It would be something different, and maybe a change of scenery was what I needed. I simply wanted to give this thing with Nate some time, a few weeks maybe, to see if it went anywhere. If it didn’t, I’d tell Mia I was taking the job.

After lunch, Mia and I were too full for dessert, but Coco asked us to bring her a spoon and the carton of Blue Moon from the freezer. I got them for her while Mia refilled our wine glasses.

“I can’t fucking get enough of this stuff. It’s obscene.” Coco stuck her spoon in the carton and scooped out a big blob of ice cream. “So Emme, with the MGM event Thursday—” She stopped talking, a quizzical look on her face and dropped her spoon into the carton. “Either I just wet my pants, or my water broke. Either thing is totally possible.”

Mia and I stared at her. “Are you serious?” I asked.

Coco nodded, putting the spoon in the carton. “Can one of you get Nick?”

“I will.” I jumped up and ran to the stairs. “Nick?” I called from the landing. “Coco needs you.”

He came flying down three steps at a time a second later. “What is it?” His expression was concerned.

“She thinks her water broke,” I said breathlessly, following him into the kitchen.

Nick went right to her side and took her by the arm. “What can I do, baby?”

“Help me up.”

Nick took one arm and Mia the other as she struggled to her feet. The back of her pants were wet, and she groaned as she walked slowly to the bathroom.

“Don’t ever get pregnant, Emme,” Coco said over her shoulder as Nick led her to the bathroom off the hall. “See what happens? You can’t even tell when you pee your pants anymore. And your husband knows all about it. Romance is dead!” she yelled as she disappeared inside the bathroom and shut the door.

Mia rolled her eyes, and Nick looked at me. “Ignore her. She always gets this way. Having a baby is wonderful. You should have ten of them.”

“Wonderful for you, maybe!” Coco yelled through the closed door. “For me it’s going to be twelve hours of labor and getting this beach ball alien out!”

Nick’s face lit up with a grin. “Does that mean it was your water breaking?”

“Yes.” The toilet flushed, the sink ran, and she came out. “Help me upstairs,” she said to him. “I have to change and grab my bag. Sorry girls. I have to cut the lunch date short.”

“How dare you go into labor before I finish my wine,” Mia joked.

“Don’t worry about us,” I told her.

“Oh, no. My parents are still in Mexico,” Coco said to Nick. “I told them not to take that trip so close to my due date! There’s no one to watch the kids!”

“Hello. I’m here,” Mia said, putting a hand on her chest. “I can handle them.”

“I can stay and help, too,” I offered.

She gave us both a grateful look. “You guys are amazing. Can someone grab Gianni from school at three-thirty?”

“Done,” I said.

“And feed them something for dinner?” she went on as Nick led her toward the stairs.

“Do not worry about a thing, babe,” Mia said. “Just get that baby out so you can have some wine with us this week!”

By the time Nick and Coco came back downstairs, the boys at their heels, Mia and I had put the lunch dishes in the dishwasher, stuck the ice cream back in the freezer, and put the leftovers in the fridge.

“Stay here,” Nick told his wife, leading her to the side door. “I’m going to back the car out.” Even though this was their fourth child, I could see he was worried about his wife, who was wincing as she walked, her eyes shut. He bolted out and ran to the garage. A moment later, his SUV eased into view, and Mia held the door open with one arm, giving Coco a quick hug with the other. “Love you,” she said. “Good luck.”

Nick jumped out to help his wife around to the passenger side, and after closing her door, he hustled around to the driver’s side again. “I’ll keep you posted,” he said, waving to us and the boys, who were jumping up and down on either side of me, yelling, “Bye, Mommy! Bye, Daddy! Bring us home a baby! But not a girl!”

Mia and I laughed. “It doesn’t work that way, sorry to break it to you,” she told them. “How about I put a movie on for you guys? And get you a snack?”

They were up for that, and as soon as we got them set up in the family room off the kitchen, Mia pulled the wine bottle from the fridge and poured the last of it into our glasses. “Can you stay a little while?” she asked. “I still want to catch up.”

“Sure.” I sank back into my chair. “How are Lucas and the kids?”

She lit up, as she always did when talking about her family, and pulled out her phone to show me photos of the beautiful French-style country home they’d built on the peninsula right next to their vineyards, of the tasting room and gardens where they held events, and a wedding they’d held there over last Christmas. She scrolled through a few more. “Oh, this was last summer.” It was a family photo in which she held their youngest, a boy named Gabe, in her arms, and Lucas held the hands of their two older children, Henri and Ellie. Behind them, the hilltop rows of grapevines disappeared into the sunset.

“God, this looks like a postcard.” I shook my head. “You have the perfect family. The perfect life.”

She smiled. “Thanks. Sometimes it feels that way, sometimes it doesn’t. But I’m very lucky. Now tell me about you. How are your parents? Your sisters?”

I filled her in on everyone, even Stella’s relationship with Buzz, which made her laugh. “Well, different relationships work for different reasons,” she said. “I couldn’t live without sex, but maybe that’s just me.”

“I don’t think I could either,” I confessed, thinking about last night. My stomach muscles tightened up.

“Are you seeing anyone now?” she asked. “Last time we talked, you were getting over that Richard guy.”

“Ugh.” I made a face. “He’s long gone. As for now…” I wasn’t sure how to answer her question. “Maybe.”

She tilted her head. “Maybe?”

“It’s sort of complicated.”

“Talk to me,” she said, tipping up her wine glass.

Taking a deep breath, I told her about Nate, the baby, and what had happened between us over the weekend. “So it’s really new,” I said. “But I really like him. And I think he likes me.” At least, I’d thought so last night.

“Got it. Is he the reason you’re hesitant to move away for the summer?”

“Yes,” I admitted, spinning my empty glass by the stem. “But he probably shouldn’t be. It’s not like we’re anything serious.”

She poked my shoulder. “Give it a chance, Em. It’s been one night.”

“I know, but…I’ve known him a while. And he’s been very up front with me that he’s not a relationship kind of guy and doesn’t really believe in happily ever after and all that.”

Mia nodded knowingly. “I once knew a guy like that. Want to know where he is now? At home with our three kids.”

“Nate’s not like Lucas at all, though. Or like Nick. Those guys are not afraid of showing their feelings.”

“They weren’t those guys when we met them.” Mia rubbed my arm. “I don’t know Nate, so I can’t say for sure, but I do know what it’s like to feel the way you do and worry he’ll never feel the same. Hang in there, give him some time to realize what he has. Concentrate on other things. Let him miss you.”

“Is that what you did?”

She thought for a moment. “Lucas and I lived an ocean apart for months after we first met, so missing each other came with the territory. But I’ll tell you what I did have to learn to do—stop obsessing over what the future would bring and learn to enjoy the present.”

I sighed. “You sound like Maren. She’s always telling me I should learn to be more mindful. She thinks it would help me achieve more inner peace and harmony.” I wiggled my fingers and made a heart pattern in the air between us.

Mia laughed. “God, I love Maren. Who knows, maybe she’s right! Certainly more inner peace and harmony never hurt anybody.”

I thanked her for the advice and the job offer, and we moved on to other topics. At three-thirty, I stayed with the little ones while she ran to pick up Gianni from school and a little later, I helped her get dinner together for the three of them. Nick had texted that there was no baby yet, but Coco was definitely in labor and he’d let us know as soon as he had news.

I got home around six and contemplated meditation or some yoga in the interest of being more mindful, but decided to put on my pajamas, do some laundry, and catch up on This Is Us instead (going through half a box of tissues because I cannot watch that show without crying). For dinner, I warmed up leftover spaghetti and wondered if Nate was doing the same. I was almost tempted to text him and see if he wanted help or company, but decided not to. He’d really been kind of an ass this morning.

And I’d gone to him last night. It was his turn. Even he should be able to figure that out.

While I was getting ready for bed, Nick texted that Coco had delivered a baby girl they’d named Francis, after Nick’s great-grandmother, and would call Frannie. Baby was fine, Coco was fine, and everyone was enjoying some champagne. It made me smile—they had every reason to celebrate. A once-in-a-lifetime love, four beautiful children, nothing but happily ever after ahead of them.

How did some people get so lucky? I wondered as I lay awake in the dark. In this massive world full of billions of people, how did some manage to find that one person they were meant to be with? How did they get all the pieces to fall so perfectly into place? Was it a matter of geography? Because Coco and Nick had gone to the same college. He saw her walk by on campus one day and knew she was the one. So there was timing involved, too. What if she’d been late for class that day? What if he’d been looking in the other direction?

I thought about Mia and Lucas. They had met in Paris when Mia happened to go into a bar where he was working one night. What if she had chosen a different bar? What if he hadn’t been working that night? What if it hadn’t been raining and she hadn’t gone into a bar at all? What if she’d kept walking? If any one of the circumstances had been altered the slightest bit, one of the pieces might not have fit, and their paths would never have crossed. Their story would have gone untold.

I considered Stella’s decision to be with a man whose company she enjoyed, even though there didn’t seem to be a physical spark between them. Was she settling because she’d gotten tired of waiting around, or was she making the best of it? Logically, I could see where having a companion like Walter would be better than spending night after night alone. But it just seemed so unfair.

Why did lightning strike for some people, and not for others? Why did some of us pick the wrong people over and over again, and others got it right the first time? Why were we told as kids to listen to our hearts when things like geography or timing or luck seemed to matter so much more?

What did our hearts know, anyway?