“Uh… I was kinda in the middle of pushin’ out my kid two days before Lee’s birthday that year,” I reminded her. “I think Lee gets I had my mind on other things.”

She was not deterred. “The balloons you were supposed to pick up for that thing for Sam.”

“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t do it because Vance told me not to. He said at the thing for Max, Jules had so many balloons, he was running into them for days and stepping on them for days after.”

“Ally, you’re a Rock Chick,” Indy snapped. “You don’t do what the Hot Bunch says.”

“Indy, I work with Vance. I was around when he was balloon cranky. You do not wanna be around when he’s got a newborn, two hellions, otherwise known as male species toddlers, and balloons all over his house. Trust me.”

“You’re always picking the Hot Bunch over the Rock Chicks,” she complained.

“That’s because they keep me from getting shot at,” I retorted.

I felt eyes and looked to Ren who was now lounging on his side across the bottom of our bed, keeping an eye on Katie feeding Payton. I caught his expression and made an, I’m lying to make a point face with a shake of my head even though I wasn’t and, instead, was silently lying to Ren.

He sighed and turned to Katie.

He knew I was lying.

I returned my attention to Indy when she murmured. “Crap, Tod and Stevie are here. They’re early and I haven’t done my hair.”

They were early because Tod and Stevie completely doted on Indy and Lee’s kids, Callum and Suki (never fear, that was just my niece’s nickname, used so we wouldn’t have confusion; my big bro and BFF named their daughter after me, which… was… righteous).

And Indy shouldn’t be surprised. Tod and Stevie took every opportunity to “pop by” or “come early” and usually ended up essentially kidnapping the kids until Indy had to call and beg them to bring them back (or Lee had to call and threaten them; Lee’s tactic worked better).

Unfazed, they kept doing it.

“Like they’ll care,” I replied. “Anyway, ask Tod to do your hair. He’d love that.”

“He’s already claimed Suki,” she said swiftly. “And I want the kids here today, and Tod’s got that look in his eye that says ice cream, mall, extreme spoiling and me with two children who don’t understand why everything he or she points at isn’t at their command.”

This was true. I’d witnessed it. Repeatedly.

“There are worse things,” I pointed out.

This got silence before a soft, “Yeah, there are.”

I grinned and said, “Cake.”

“Don’t forget,” she repeated.

“Cake and catfight if you keep saying that,” I returned.

“Whatever,” she muttered then, “Later.”

“Later, chickie,” I replied and we disconnected.

“So I take it we’re picking up the cake,” Ren asked, and I looked to him.

“Yeah,” I answered.

Katie threw another tater tot. Ren looked to his girl and poked her gently in her rounded belly.

“You’re supposed to eat them, baby,” he told her.

She giggled.

She also threw another one.

That was when I giggled.

Ren just smiled.

Then he leaned in and kissed his daughter.

After that, he leaned further and kissed me.

It was Sunday breakfast in bed at the Zano house.

Yeah.

You guessed it.

Righteous.

* * * * *

“Yo!”

That was Lee.

We were in the kitchen at Indy and his house: Lee, Indy, Tex, Nancy, Jet (with her latest son, Cesar, or son number three, attached to her hip), Eddie, Ada and me.

The Kevster and Leo, Stella’s bassist, were wandering through, heading toward the back door.

Lee was scowling at Leo and Kevin.

“What?” The Kevster asked.

“Keep it in your pocket or give it to me,” Lee ordered.

“What?” The Kevster repeated, trying to look innocent.

And failing.

“You say ‘what’ one more time, I’ll pat you down, confiscate it and it’ll be in the garbage disposal,” Lee warned.

Kevin gave up the ghost and cried, “But it’s a party!”