“She’s pregnant.”

I did a double take. And truthfully? The first thought through my mind—after holy shit!—was, Oh, thank God it was her and not me! Not that the possibility was even present, at least without divine intervention. But when both your mother and grandmother got knocked up way too early in their lives, let me tell you, the fear is ever present. The few times Brody had tried to go there with me, I dropped the words “pregnant” and “baby” and “diaper changes” and that always did the trick.

But a funny thing happened as I was digesting this latest bit of bombshell news—I glanced away from Arthur. The kind of unconscious glance you do when you’re trying to fully comprehend something that’s pretty huge.

My eyes just flittered off.

And that’s when I saw them.

Over Arthur’s shoulder by about twenty yards. Past the lights. In the shadows by one of the trees. Two shapes, clearly a couple, close together in a way that suggested more than friendship. They were walking together, giggling, adjusting clothes and hair and exchanging heavy-lidded looks that lingered and needed no explanation.

Grandma Jo reached over to lightly brush a strand of hair away from the cheek of Esha Chakrabarti and earned a soft smile as her reward.

And I reeled as my brain exploded. All thoughts of Ayisha’s place at Barrington or Thea’s pregnancy were banished to the ether.

In that instant, I realized I’d been right all along.

Aunt Esha had been having a holiday romance.

It just wasn’t with my father.

“Finley,” Arthur said, trying to draw my attention back to him. “You’re doing that thing again where you look like you’re lost in a haze.”

I rubbed a hand over my eyes to try to orient myself. “Sorry,” I mumbled, my heart slamming against my chest as I dropped my hand to my side. And counted to ten before opening my eyes. “Can we, um . . . head back?”

He flicked his jacket sleeve back to look at his watch. “Right. We’re running a bit late. I hope they haven’t been waiting long.”

Oh, no need to worry about that.

I made a noncommittal sound in the back of my throat and we started toward the festival.

With Arthur beside me, my focus stayed forward in order to keep them in my sight. They were ahead of us by at least a dozen yards, as we all reentered the hyper-illuminated area of the festival. That was when Arthur recognized them from behind.

“Mashi,” he called out.

Both women turned around to face us and any scintilla of uncertainty vanished as dual looks of surprise crossed their faces at seeing us. Their red lips and mussed hair could have been dismissed as resulting from the cold.

I knew they weren’t.

“Hi, Grandma,” I said tightly.