Milo’s eyes went wide as saucers.

And Max was filming the entire thing.

“I think . . .” Reid sniffled. Hell, this was a long speech. “I think what gets me most, is I think I would have been a good father.” He wiped a fake tear. “He would have called me ‘Da-da,’ and I would have chased him around the house, and I think, I think we could have been happy, Jayne. You, me, and little Anvil.” Classic. He wiped another tear. “Family name, I would have given him my family name, and now, now another bastard’s poaching on my land. The land I claimed, plowed, planted, and grew over and over and over . . . and over.” He sighed and took a drink. “And over again. Well, when you lose you lose. Am I right? So cheers to the happy couple. May you find happiness with your new family.”

Reid sat.

I nodded at Max, who mouthed, “Theater camp, bitch.”

Jayne’s mouth fell open and then closed as she reached for her mimosa and lifted it to her lips with a shaking hand.

All we needed was for her to take one little sip.

As if realizing what she was doing, she set the glass down and smiled happily at Jason. “Sorry, thought it was my water.”

Water, my ass.

I kicked Max under the table. It wasn’t going as planned. She was supposed to freak out, and we were supposed to push her over the edge by bringing in an ex, not make her commitment to Jason more solid.

I kicked again.

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Max let out a howl and jumped to his feet. “I too have some things I’d like to get off my chest.”

“Abort!” Milo mouthed. “Abort.”

I ignored her and said loudly, “Max, that would be so wonderful. Gosh, it’s so nice hearing from friends and family.”

“Weren’t really gonna do the toasts until this evening, but—” Mr. Caro sputtered as Mrs. Caro smacked him and nodded her consent.

“Growing up with Jayne—”

“Did everyone grow up with Jayne?” Mr. Caro asked.

“Oh, we went to theater camp together,” Max explained. “Back when Jayne wanted to be an actress.” He sighed. “Now look at her . . .” Heads turned as everyone looked. “A homemaker, just waiting for the little oven to ding so Anvil can pop out and cry ‘Mama!’ ”

“We haven’t discussed names yet,” she said smoothly.

“What’s wrong with Anvil?” Max asked midtoast. “My grandfather was a POW in Vietnam—his name was Anvil, you saying my grandfather’s name isn’t good enough?”

Jayne’s eyes narrowed. “Your grandfather’s name was Stan.”

“My other grandfather, the blind one with the tic in his right eye.”

“Oh, dear!” Mrs. Caro gasped. “Was he injured in a war?”

“No.” Max smiled. “Circus accident.”

“The toast.” I coughed.

“Right.” Max straightened and lifted his glass. “As I was saying, I too knew Jayne when she was a social-climbing little monster. Hell, even in high school she was always dating guys she thought were gonna be famous someday. I was passed over—well, that’s not entirely true. I had her first, then my brother.” Mrs. Caro spit out her mimosa all over the table while the ancient grandma suddenly woke up from her nap and began listening with a hand cupped to her ear.

“Speak up, Max!”

“SO!” Max yelled. “SHE SLEPT WITH MY BROTHER!”

“Who, dear?”

“JAYNE!” Max pointed. “AND MY BROTHER REID!”

“Oh.” Grandma fanned her face and waved at Reid. He hid behind a stunned Milo. Smart man. Smart man.

“BUT!” Max continued to yell, “ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL! THAT’S WHAT GRAMPS SAID ON HIS DEATHBED! HE SAID, ‘MAX, YOU MARRY A GOOD ONE!’” He looked down. “And I’ve got her right here.”

Too far. He just went too far.

Max leaned down and reached for Milo’s face. “I’m so glad you’re not pregnant, forcing me to marry you before I’m actually ready for such a huge commitment where we fight over paying the electricity bill and make sacrifices like eating hot dogs every day while you clean out the baby’s dirty reusable, homemade diapers. It really, really makes me feel happy we waited and saved ourselves.” He addressed everyone at the table. “SAVE OURSELVES FROM THE PITFALLS OF SIN!” He sat and then, as if remembering he was toasting, not condemning, raised his glass and said in a chipper voice, “Cheers to the happy couple. May this day be the worst of a lifetime of happy days!”

Yeah, pretty sure he got that quote wrong.

“On that note . . .” Mrs. Caro reached for her pearl necklace and pulled. “Shall we pour more champagne?”

Glasses lifted around the table, all but Grandma’s because suddenly she wasn’t in her seat anymore.

What the hell? I looked around the table. Had the woman passed out again? I scanned the room and finally located her behind Reid.

I yelled his name.

But I was too late.

She launched herself into his lap like a rabbit in heat. There was no time, no time to save him. The only thing I could do was watch in horror as Grandma grabbed him with her freakishly strong hands and kissed him square on the mouth.

“Grandma!” Milo shouted, knocking her chair backward just as Mr. Caro was returning with the champagne. Naturally he tripped over the toppled chair, and the bottles went sailing over the table. Max caught one; the other knocked Jason in the face.




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