Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 by Gandy, A. (animal farm read .TXT) 📗

“Within the next five years. The last time I spoke with my father, he said people would be much more comfortable if I was already involved in a public political position before that happens, so they can get to know me.” I can still hear him, despite the fact that he’s currently speaking the words to his feet.

I just stare at him, not sure what else to even ask. The timer beeps, and I woodenly put two warm, melty cookies onto each plate. Sliding one across to him, I dunk my cookie and take a bite. Perfection. At least some things never change.

He looks up, picks up the bigger cookie, and takes a huge bite. “Oh, my God. I will deny it if you ever try to tell her, but these are even better than my mom’s.” He shoves some errant crumbs in from the corner of his mouth. “If we weren’t already married, I’d marry you again just for these cookies.”

His enjoyment thaws my frozen thoughts, and I laugh. “You are actually not the first person to say something like that to me.”

He finishes the cookie in his second bite. “Yeah, but I’m the one that got you, nonetheless.” He closes his eyes happily as he chews and then takes a sip of his milk.

“And here I thought it was my uterus you were after,” I joke, and he nearly snorts milk out his nose.

✽✽✽

For the next two days, we spent long hours walking on the beach together, sometimes talking, sometimes simply holding hands and taking in the ocean. We also found a hidden stash of board games, which we played on the bed—because the TV was still flashing bubblegum pink. Each night they bring a catered dinner—which, yes, I was originally mad about, but has been delicious. The first night they brought us prime rib, mashed potatoes, and an assortment of veggies in a balsamic reduction. Last night was a whole roasted duck with delicious Asian-themed sides.

I can’t wait to see what they bring us for dinner tonight. “Personally, I’m hoping for Italian,” I say amiably as we walk back up the beach to our cottage.

“Italian? It’s Okay, I guess, but I want barbecue.” Patrick says it wistfully. “We haven’t had barbecue once since we’ve been here.”

“I don’t think that’s likely. It’s been fancy food, not down-home cooking.”

“I know, I’m just saying, would it kill them to give us some good ribs and garlic bread? No, it would not.”

I chuckle at his valiant defense of barbecue as we walk up the steps. “Maybe there’s a comment card you can send to the kitchen.” I pat him on the back.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll ask the delivery guy when he gets here—which should be any minute.” He rubs his palms together in anticipation, but my attention has been captured once again by our blinking TV.

“That can’t be good,” I say and elbow Patrick to get his attention, pointing to the new message flashing in gold script.

“Your presence is requested in the guest house at your earliest convenience,” he reads off. “That’s interesting. I wonder why they’d pull us out of our little cocoon?”

My heart sinks to my gut. “I bet we’re going to get lectured on our lack of tracking . . .” I trail off.

“Well, if so, we’ll set them straight.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in for a quick peck. “Don’t worry about it, Sadie. They can’t rush us, even if they try.”

I give him a small return smile, but my stomach is rolling in nervous anticipation. We turn and head right back out of the cottage, and make the short walk to the guest house. I hold Patrick’s hand, and try not to think about the million ways this could be a bad thing.

We walk in the back door and are surprised to see a small crowd gathered in the sitting area.  As soon as we walk in, Jared spots us and clinks on the side of a champagne flute with a butter knife.

“Now that we’re all here, if I could get everyone’s attention please! We have an exciting announcement,” he says, enthusiasm clear in his tone.

Relief floods my system as a pink-shirted employee presses a champagne flute into my hand. Although, on closer inspection, it doesn’t appear to be champagne in the glass.

“Today, we have a confirmed pregnancy!” Jared announces with a flourish, teeth glinting in a wide smile. “If you’d all raise your sparkling cider in a toast to the new parents, Teddy and Faith!” Cheers erupt around the room from the other couples and the staff, but my jaw hits the floor. I hurriedly scan the room, and spot Teddy and Faith standing towards the front of the group. He’s beaming down at her, and she looks happy but shocked.

“Can you believe it? Already?” Patrick looks down at me and takes in my shock. “Hey, this is good news!” He rubs my arm affectionately.

“I know, I’m really happy for them. I just can’t believe they didn’t tell us first,” I stammer, still turning the news over in my mind. They weren’t kidding about a ninety-nine percent match.

One by one, couples and staff alike come forward and offer congratulations and hugs to the parents-to-be. Patrick steers me to the back of the line, and my feet move without thought. Teddy is going to be a father! I’m going to be an aunt again! We continue shuffling forward, and eventually it’s our turn. Faith sees me and her eyes start to water. Lips trembling, she throws her arms around me in a bruising hug.

“Sadie, it actually happened, can you believe it?” Her voice cracks on the last word, and a choked sob is all that comes out next. I squeeze her back tightly, and look at Teddy over her shoulder. He’s patting Patrick on the back in that man-thumping way dudes do to avoid hugging. After a solid minute, Faith