“But what if it was just the pressure of being pregnant and Colby afraid of being a father? Lots of couples struggle when that happens.”

“I don’t know, Quinn. I can’t even think about all that right now. I’ve got to get my life together now that I’m free from looking over my shoulder.”

They let the conversation trail away. Relationships were hard, and it was even harder to try to explain them to someone else.

“This guy is really pissing me off,” Maggie said, looking at the time on her cell phone.

“Why would he make us sit here and wait?” Quinn asked. At least they had something to look at. The restaurant sat right on the beach, and she kept her mind busy by watching the people lying in the sun or playing in the water. Out a bit farther, what appeared to be a father and his teenage daughter were paddleboarding, and their exchange was amusing as the girl clumsily followed her father’s instructions on how to maneuver the board. She almost ran over a swimmer, and the father’s helpless expression was priceless.

“Look at that sweet girl. She’s making me miss my boy,” Maggie said, pointing at a tiny toddler frolicking in the waves with her mom hovering over her. The girl wore a frilly pink swimsuit—ruffles on the butt!—and a pink hat tied under her chin. She was all chubby rolls and blonde hair and was so adorable that Quinn’s heart skipped.

Maggie laughed. “When Charlie was that small, he refused to wear a hat in the sun. Now he’s old enough that I can negotiate terms. A hat means half an hour more. No hat means we leave right away.”

Quinn could just imagine Maggie standing over a tiny boy with her poker face on as she laid out the terms of their negotiations.

The waitress approached, carrying a tray. She put a plate of pancakes in front of Maggie, then a smaller one with bacon on the table before leaving them again. After sitting there for nearly an hour, they felt food had to be ordered or they’d be asked to move to the bar.

Maggie was glad to oblige.

Quinn couldn’t eat, but while she left the drink with the umbrellas on the table, she’d ordered a tall glass of tomato juice to settle her stomach.

“These are great,” Maggie said. “Sure you don’t want a bite?”

Quinn shook her head. The pancakes were topped with fresh bananas and toasted macadamia nuts, and just looking at them made her feel queasy.

“Did you hear about the angry pancake?” Maggie asked, her mouth full.

“No.”

“He just flipped,” Maggie replied, laughing.

Quinn smiled weakly.