As much as life and jobs and kids and petty fights wedged us apart, we always returned to find our place in the fold.

“Moooommy!” a child’s voice cried from the kitchen. This same small voice had just finished crying about his juice spilling on the carpet—where he was forbidden from drinking juice—after wailing about breaking the lamp he shouldn’t have been throwing a ball at. “Willow won’t share the cookies with me!”

“You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me. He never stops,” Robin mumbled, frustration and exhaustion sharpening her words. “Mommy’s coming, Lucas!”

Robin rose from her seat, leaving me and Lily alone with our wine and appetizers.

“She makes parenthood look like a nightmare,” Lily said, draining half a glass of wine in one swig. It was an unfair observation, because any child looked like a nightmare to Lily. “Maybe I should start hosting our get-togethers—except no kids allowed.”

“Oh, Lil, it’s not as hellish as it looks. You might be surprised how fun kids can be. Aria’s my world. I couldn’t imagine life without her.”

Collette crawled along the floor, gripping Lily’s socked toe in her chubby fingers.

“She wants you to hold her.” I reached down and tickled the eight-month-old at Lily’s feet.

Lily winced and waved away what she saw as a drooling rug rat. I saw cooing perfection. “No thanks. You know I’m not a baby person. I’m always worried I’ll drop her.”

“What is wrong with you?” I shook my head at Lily and picked up Collette. “How can you see this cute little ball of fat rolls and turn down a chance to hold her?”

“All she does is slobber and fuss and poop. I don’t get the appeal.”

“It’s the heart explosion that you’re missing. When you have a baby, Lil, there’s nothing like it—the sheer force of love filling and breaking and mending your heart all at once. It’s life-altering how much you can feel for one tiny little human.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Lily said.

“Sounds like you have baby fever,” Robin interjected as she breathlessly trotted into the living room, dropping onto the sofa. She squeezed my knee and grinned.

“Unfortunately that ship has sailed, but I’ll relish being Auntie Mac to this widdle cutie. Pretty as a Georgia peach, you are.” I planted kisses along Collette’s forehead, cheeks, and neck as she giggled and squirmed. I longed for it again, that baby stage.

“Anytime you want to babysit, she’s all yours.”