Wren hadn't seen Evie in months. Not since the other woman had announced she was pregnant, not since Christmas, when Will had proposed. She'd been so very jealous then, but things were a little different now, and she was hoping she'd be able to see her very dear friend without feeling any twinges of envy. After all, she and Luke were living in a house now, and they were married, and they had Gus. She just needed to remember those things, and she just needed to keep from remembering every single little thing from when she was pregnant. Easy, right?
Soup was something Wren had learned when other girls and boys were learning math and science. Her maman had loved the kitchen, and Wren had spent countless hours sitting at the teenager's feet, listening to her sing in French and ramble off this recipe and that. All the recipes were from scratch, and every last one was for some kind of soup. But they were special soups, her maman would tell her. They weren't chicken noodle or tomato; they were soups from old, old books. The bouillabaisse Louis IV liked best, or Marie Antoinette's favorite cassoulet, or Catherine de Medici's adored vichyssoise. Wren had asked her maman once why she only made soup, and the response had been as eccentric as the young girl herself had been: Soup was good for when you were in love, when you were sick, and when you were lonely, her maman had said in silky French, before waving a flippant hand and embarking on a diatribe about men and how love didn't really exist.
Wren knew how to cook a few other things, but she wasn't any expert in the kitchen, not when it came to anything but soup. And so, soup it was. The scent of saffron permeated the house, which was a modest white-slatted thing in a neighborhood that lived somewhere in the nook between being bad and being good. Gus, stuffed animals strewn everywhere, was tending his zoo, and Wren glanced at the clock, wondering if Luke would be able to get away for lunch.
Evie arrived on time, without Will who was still carrying on with a chore at home - they’d opted to sleep in quite a bit that day -. She had a cheese plate in one hand and she knocked with her free hand. She was getting pretty pregnant, there was definitely no hiding it and she hadn’t bothered to try. It was closer and closer and she was finding herself more and more excited rather than frightened. Ever since she’d started getting rounder, and she’d felt the baby moving around in there it had become very very real for her and she stopped trying to pretend like she had it together. She let herself be excited and scared and happy and sad all at the same time.
She was dressed in a pair of black leggings, pink converse, and a pink flowered spring time dress that screamed Evangeline. Her hair, which she was getting really sick of really fast, was pulled up in a messy knot on the back of her head and she grinned a bit when Wren opened the door. “Hi I brought cheese, I need to pee,” she said smiling a bit wider as she didn’t wait for an invitation to come in.
Wren knew that Evie was somewhere around six months along, closer to seven, really. She knew her friend would look really, really pregnant. She knew, but it wasn't the same as opening the door and seeing Evie with that belly. She glanced down, because how couldn't she? And she only just avoided touching. Instead, she opted to take the cheese plate and move aside just as Evie ducked inside. She pointed toward the hallway bathroom, the one on the side of the house that featured Gus' and Jack's rooms, and she closed the door as she watched Gus come to a wide-eyed standstill during his midday routine. Luke could deal with explaining that particular situation to his son, Wren decided, and she turned toward the kitchen.
The cheese plate was set upon the island counter, along with some cheese knives and crackers, and Wren set out a pitcher of lemonade and acquiesced and gave Gus a piece of cheese and a sippy cup with lemonade. She ruffled his brown hair, and she looked toward the bathroom and tried really, really hard to only think good thoughts.
Lunch breaks were a lifesaver. He had limited time, of course, but it was enough to make it home and visit with Evie and Will before having to head back again. And, really, Luke would have managed to find a way to steal some time regardless, if only to be there for Wren. Things weren’t like they’d been when Evie was first pregnant; they were married now, and living together, but he suspected it still wasn’t going to be easy for her. They had Gus now, and no one was ever going to take him away from them, but her pregnancy had been the exact opposite of Evie’s, and even if they did end up having another child that wouldn’t erase the past. It helped, too, that he understood. He’d missed out on Wren’s pregnancy, missed out on raising Gus from babyhood to where he was now, but Will got to be there for all of that for Evie, and yeah, maybe a small part of him was envious. Like Wren, though, he reminded himself of the good things, that he was happy with the life they had, and it wasn’t like they could never have any more children, after all.
The sound of the door opening alerted Finch first, who’d been greeting him when he arrived home, wherever home might be, for five years, and the dog was followed by Gus, messy-haired with lemonade in one hand and a mouthful of cheese that made his lisped Hi, Daddy barely understandable. Luke grinned, stooping to pick up his son, and scratched behind Finch’s ears before his gaze settled on Wren. “Hey,” he said, a quieter, warmer tone entering his voice, as it usually did whenever his words were directed at her, and he gave her a quick kiss before following the direction in which her gaze had been. “Are Evie and Will already here?”
When she heard the door open, Wren's expression softened from something dreamily lost in thought, to something less wistful. She stayed where she was, elbows on the counter, and she watched as Luke scooped Gus up, while trying to avoid being tripped by Finch. She leaned into Luke for a second after the kiss, and she handed Gus a cracker from the cheese plate, watching as the little boy's quickly closed fist rained crumbs all over the floor. "Will's running late, I think. Evie's in the bathroom. She's really, really big," she said wistfully, lowering her voice, as if it was something that could only be whispered. But there was none of that with Gus, who immediately remembered that he had questions about Evie's belly.
"Evie has a beash ball," Gus said, all lisp and mouth full of cracker, and loud enough to carry clear to the other side of the house. "Why does Evie has a beash ball?" he asked his father.
Wren just laughed, and she pressed a kiss to Luke's cheek and went to check on the soup, hoping the clatter of bowls would help cover Gus' very loud insistence that Luke explain the situation.
Evie made her way back into the kitchen feeling a million times better and smiled when she saw Luke and Gus, now she could properly enjoy herself. She also arrived in time to hear Gus’ question. “I’ve been asking myself the same question, little friend,” she said with a chuckle that didn’t make much sense to anyone but the adults in the room she was sure.
She walked over and properly hugged Wren tightly, and then Luke and then leaned down to hug Gus, because squatting was not her strong point anymore.
Luke noticed the wistful tone in her voice when she mentioned how big Evie was, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, assuming her lowered voice had more to do with how she felt about it than trying to keep Gus from overhearing. He’d been hoping Wren would have covered the whole baby thing before he got there, but apparently not. He pulled a face at Wren when she kissed his cheek, and set Gus down, trying to stall for time, but the little boy looked up at him expectantly and seemed determined to have his question about Evie and her beachball answered. “Well, kiddo, it’s kind of complicated,” he began, torn between coming up with some ridiculous explanation and trying to cobble together some modified version of the truth, but then Evie appeared and he looked up, grateful for the distraction, however temporary it might be.
She was big, Wren had been right about that. “Geez, you’re huge,” he teased as she hugged him, and laughed as Gus stared at Evie’s belly with wide eyes when she stooped to hug him. He looked like he wanted to poke it, child-like curiosity almost getting the better of it, but refrained, and Luke just ruffled his hair. “Evie has a beachball because she’s special,” he told him. “I’ll explain later, okay?” It was such a parental thing to say, but he had no idea how to explain babies to a four-year-old.
Wren came back from the stove just in time for Evie's hug, and just in time to see Gus' curious almost-finger poke. She tugged the little boy back, as Luke ruffled his hair, and she smiled at her friend. "You look beautiful," she said honestly. Evie did look like she had a beach ball beneath her shirt, but she looked healthy and happy, and she had that glow that Wren had always heard pregnant women had, but that she'd never experienced herself. She managed to keep the wistful expression off her face, and it was easier to turn her thoughts away from negative things with Gus squirming to get a better look at Evie. Luke's explanation was met with grey-eyed uncertainty from the little boy, and Wren laughed.
"Sit down, Evie," Wren finally said, motioning to the dining room table, and then motioning for Luke to move the cheese and crackers over there. "You don't get to stand for the rest of lunch," she added with a smile. "Do you have a name picked yet?" she asked, glancing toward the door when she heard a knock.
Finch barked, and Gus managed to wiggle free to go look out the front window, where he informed everyone that the Pancake Man! was there. He waited for a nod of permission before opening the door for Will.
Will had been kept behind on his "chore" of finishing the pie he'd wanted to bring, but he'd agreed for a driver to take Evie on ahead. If he admitted it to himself, he wasn't entirely comfortable with having her out of his sight for too long, especially after their trip to New York, when they'd been together nearly the entire time. The larger she got, and the closer to her due date, the less inclined he was to leave her on her own. Only knowing that she was going to Luke and Wren's left him at all comfortable with it this time. Even so, he was anxious enough to rush right over once the pie was out of the oven, the fruit filling still hot enough to burn if he wasn't careful in the car.
He heard Gus' high voice through the door and laughed at being called "Pancake Man". No matter how many times he'd told Gus his real name, the nickname stuck fast. Evie didn't help by adopting it as well whenever they were babysitting. And all things told, Will supposed there were far worse things he could be called. He balanced the pie on one hand and waved toward the front window with a smile, hoping that someone other than Gus and Finch were there to answer the door, but when it opened for him, he looked down at the excited little face.
"It's pie instead of pancakes today. I hope that's okay." His eyes shifted beyond Gus, looking for Evie and the reassurance that she was okay.
Evie was highly amused at the questioning and the poking and was trying her best to come up with a way to explain it that wouldn’t make everyone scramble for answers. She knew whatever she managed to come up with would likely add more questions from Gus than they would settle the matter.
“Names, no names yet, I’ve been calling her Benny since day one just to have something to call her. But until about two weeks ago I was convinced she was a boy. I owe Will five bucks, but I’ve been holding out citing the ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ rule of betting,” she said chuckling. She didn’t mind either way if it was a boy or a girl, she just hated losing bets.
She sat down as requested and waggled her finger at Gus to come and check her beach ball out a bit more, but then there was a knock at the door and chaos rang out and in walked the pie. And her fiance. “Yay pie!” she said clapping her hands and giving Will a wry smile. “Gus ask Will about the beach ball,” she said smirking even more and putting a cube of cheese in her mouth quite pleased with herself.
Will was about to greet Luke and Wren when his lovely (very pregnant, very hormonal) fiancee began cheering for pie and demanding that he tell Gus... “What?” He was glad he had a good hold on the pie pan when what she was saying sunk in. And even moreso when Gus turned wide grey eyes on him. He blinked several times while he crossed the room to set the pie down carefully, and then took a breath before turning to face the boy. “The beachball.” He glanced up at Evie again, his brief expression clearly saying that she was going to owe him for putting him in a position that he hadn’t expected to be in for several years at least. Another glance was thrown at Gus’ parents before crossing the room to sit on a footstool, putting him at Gus’ height and clearing his throat.
“The beachball isn’t actually a beachball. It’s... Evie and I wanted to have a baby, but they start too tiny, so it stays inside her until it’s ready to be outside. It makes her belly big.” It seemed like an explanation that was missing far too many details, but he watched Gus to see how he was going to react.
Gus looked, by turns, disbelieving, confused and pensive. As was his nature, the little boy thought it over in silence, not asking any questions for a few minutes. Eventually, he glanced at his father, as if he wanted validation that this story was true. It was, even for Gus, a little too quiet, and he carefully poked at Evie's belly, as if he expected something bad to happen when he did it. It resulted in a scamper back to Luke, and an arm around Luke's thigh, and a loud whisper of, "how does the baby come out?"
Wren thought four might be a little too young for that particular discussion, but she didn't see an out now. She stifled a laugh, and she ushered Finch into Gus' room, leaving Luke to deal with the curiously upturned face.
Next, Wren started setting the table, bowls and spoons and warm, crusty bread in the center. The lemonade was shifted over, along with a bowl of ice and ice tongs. A minute later, the trivet in the center of the table held a pot of steaming butternut squash soup, along with a serving spoon. Gus, who she'd made sure had already eaten, was lured away with Cartoon Network and animal crackers, though the chances of him making through the entire lunch without coming back and crawling on Luke's lap were very, very slim, especially with the mystifying beach ball in attendance.
Luke was incredibly grateful for the knock at the door that distracted Gus from any more questions about Evie’s beachball, at least for the time being, and he busied himself with moving the cheese to the dining room table as Wren and Evie discussed baby names. He looked up when Will entered with pie, prepared to say hello, but then Evie was demanding that he explain the beachball thing to Gus, and he just barely managed to turn his laughter into a series of muffled coughs. While most children could be easily distracted and would have let the subject go by now, Gus wasn’t most children, and it was clear he wouldn’t be satisfied until Will gave him an answer. He grinned when Will glanced their way, and waited to see what sort of response he would come up with.
It was a decent answer, better than anything he could’ve stammered out, and he nodded when Gus glanced back, silently agreeing with the other man’s explanation. It was followed by a laugh when the little boy poked Evie’s belly and scampered back to his side, but his good humor faded when he was asked how the baby came out. Luke looked up at Wren for help, a mute appeal in his gaze, but then Gus was tugging on his pant leg and he saw he wasn’t going to find assistance here. “Well, kiddo, when the baby is big enough and ready to come out, it... it just... comes out. What matters is that the baby comes out fine, and everyone’s happy, and it’s all okay,” he added hastily. “Evie will be okay, and the baby will be okay, and that’s... what matters.” He had no idea how his parents had done it, but then again, he was pretty sure the baby talk hadn’t come when he was only four. Gus didn’t seem satisfied by his father’s disjointed explanation, but he accepted it for the time being, and the allure of the Cartoon Network was, fortunately, enough to coax him away to the living room.
“I swear, when I was four, I would’ve believed anything my parents told me,” he remarked fondly, once Gus was out of earshot. He turned his attention back to the table, fully set and prepared, studying their lunch over Wren’s shoulder. “Looks great,” he said, sliding an arm around her waist and giving her a quick squeeze before gesturing for Will and Evie to sit.
Once Gus was clear from the room Evie’s head fell back as she laughed, because that had been hilarious. “He’s going to be confused, but I’ll be honest, I was going to compare it to a chicken sitting on an egg - so I think it’s safe to say we’re all doomed. It’s probably a good idea I didn’t give him images of me hatching to take with him in life.” But it was still hilarious. “But I suppose me hatching is right up there with Will making me sound like a Kangaroo,” she said with a tease and a wink at her fiance. “When she starts moving around after lunch we’ll let Gus feel that, that ought to blow his mind properly.”
Will pointed at Evie as she laughed, stern but with a fondness in his eyes, “You are not allowed to laugh. I wasn’t supposed to have come up with anything like that for years. If he wants to think you’re a kangaroo, it’s your own fault.” But he couldn’t stop the smile as he shook his head and sighed, and then turned his attention to Wren and Luke. “And it’s your faults for having a kid that asks complicated questions when he’s only four. I don’t feel sorry for you either.” His smile was finally wide though, betraying his good mood, and he started dishing up soup, putting the full bowl in front of Evie first before working his way to the others, filling everyone else’s bowl at the table and then his own.
Luke got a quick kiss to the cheek when he sat down, and Will got a, "merci," when he filled everyone's bowls. It all felt so normal, and Wren had trouble making sense of it for a second. There was nothing scary in the shadows, nothing dark knocking on their door. She smiled, and she tasted the soup, glad it wasn't terrible, and she took a sip of lemonade before laughing at the idea of Evie being a chicken or a kangaroo. "I think a kangaroo is probably a better choice," she finally said, but it was a quiet thing; she preferred to listen to the humor and teasing, than to participate in it. But it was nice to hear, and she thought she could likely sit there forever, listening to them banter and taking covetous glances at Evie's belly.
True to Wren's prediction, Gus was back in the dining room a few minutes later, but he scampered onto his father's lap, two fingers in his mouth and quiet curiosity, instead of asking more questions. He'd ask later, Wren knew, based on that wide-eyed grey look alone.
"Have you set a date?" Wren asked about the wedding, after tearing a corner of bread off and handing it to Gus. "I still think you should get married in Disneyland," she added, because if anyone was a Disney princess at heart, it was Evie.
Luke shook his head at the thought of Gus thinking babies were hatched, though considering his age they didn't have very many options. "Then he'll ask how the baby lives in there, or something," he said, of Gus feeling it move. "I don't know where he gets it from. Not me, so it must be her," he teased, gesturing towards Wren. "And for the record, Will, I think you did a better job than me. My tactic is avoidance." He settled down to lunch, then, thinking that they didn't do this often enough, getting together with friends and simply enjoying themselves rather than worrying about every little thing. It came as no surprise when Gus lost interest in television and climbed onto his lap, but he didn't mind in the slightest, even when the little boy started munching on his bread and got crumbs all over them.
He preferred to take a backseat when it came to wedding talk, but Gus' attention was instantly captured by the mention of Disneyland, and he smiled. "You two should definitely do Disneyland. It'd be adorable."
Evie blew a kiss at Will and rolled her eyes but she didn’t waste much time as she started to eat, of course she had manners, but she was starving. And it was delicious. She made a funny face at Gus when he re-entered the room and gave him a wink just in case he was generally worried and/or concerned about the beach ball she was carrying around. When wedding talk came up she sighed and shook her head. “I feel overwhelmed,” she admitted though it was clear she wasn’t overwhelmed seriously, just more annoyed. “Too many decisions to make. There are 49 different colors of paint on the baby’s room walls, and I hate bridal magazines. I’ve been thinking of getting married in my living room one Sunday morning and then going back to bed to await wedding pancakes,” she said with a chuckle. “I think I’ll worry about weddings when the baby comes because trying to plan around her is going to be virtually impossible until I get to know her. So far from what I can tell she’s just nocturnal,” she smiled and went back to eating her soup. “And poor Will just smiles and nods,” because the man was a saint most days putting up with her.
Will listened to Evie’s rant and did, indeed, smile and nod. He’d heard these things more than once in the past few months, more and more the more people learned about their engagement. But he’d learned years ago to just let her go and rant, and then take whatever action was necessary to make the both of them happy. It didn’t always work, he didn’t always know what was needed, but it was a good process, nonetheless. When she was done, he cleared his throat. “Which is to say, we’re not in a rush. There are more important things that need worrying about right now.” As he spoke, he cut down a piece of bread so that it was the perfect size for smaller hands, and then laid a piece of cheese on it before handing it over to Luke for when Gus finished the piece of bread he was already almost all the way through.
Wren smiled at the idea of Evie getting married in her living room and then crawling into bed for pancakes. And, she knew, it was a distinct possibility with Evie. She never knew, from one day to the next, whether Evie was going to have the biggest wedding Las Vegas had ever seen, or the quietest. It didn't really matter, either, so long as her friend was happy, which she was. The topic of baby nurseries and painting made Wren regard her soup for just a minute, and then she was smiling again, watching as Gus eagerly took the piece of bread from Will, but only after informing him that it wasn't pie or pancake. "You can come help me slice the pie in a second," she told the little boy, and then smiled at Evie. "I'll help with anything I need to, even if it's just giving Will a break from smiling and nodding." And she meant it; even if it was hard for her to deal with, she didn't want to hide from it. She pushed her chair back, Gus eagerly on her heels, piece of bread still clutched between his fingers.
Luke listened quietly as Evie chattered on about weddings and nurseries and the baby, and he couldn’t imagine trying to plan for both. They were smart, he thought, in focusing on the baby first, and it was nice that they were stable enough with where they were in life that they didn’t need to rush to get married. He didn’t regret the impulsiveness of his own wedding, of course; it was different for everyone. There was no set script or rules they had to follow. He laughed when Gus took the bread from Will, ruffling his hair affectionately. “The same goes for Gus and I, right, kiddo?” He echoed Wren’s offer of help, and Gus nodded, mumbling his agreement through a mouthful of bread and cheese. All this talk of babies made him think, more often than not, but there was no need to rush. Gus was more than enough, he thought, watching the little boy follow Wren into the kitchen, babbling on about pie, and he smiled before returning to his soup.