Salvation in the Secular Age {MH/GD}

{What Does It Matter If I Lie To You?}

Short short little part, more to come soon! I had writers block with this but now I've got my stuff together! So excited! Thank you for all of the reads and votes!
Please enjoy this picture of the boys! ❤️❤️❤️

{Claire}

Millie's chunky little hands banged on her high-chair, demanding more Cheerios. Maisie had thrown all of hers onto the floor. They were dressed in the same outfit, only of a different color, with Mille in a white onesie ruffled at the bum and Maisie in a black one.

"Dun!" Maisise smiled, kicking her fat legs and blinking her big blue eyes.

Tinnie let out an exhausted sigh. She was the other of eleven-month old twins, the founder of Tees for Tots (a baby graphic tee line), and the most resourceful, dedicated person I knew. She was two years younger than myself, but her soul was old, and I adored her.

"Good job, Millie," Chelsea praised the baby who had eaten her Cheerios, clapping her hands exaggeratedly.

The three of us were in the midst of planning their first birthday party, and, Tinsley Hann being Tinsley Hann, was going completely all out. I looked at the laptop in front of me, shaking my head at the estimated cost of this thing.

"Tin?" I asked her as she sprinkled some more Cherriors and some blueberries onto each of her girls' highchairs.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think the babies really need a petting zoo? I mean, they can't even walk..." I trailed off.

Tinsley crunched on a baby carrot. "Why wouldn't they?" she asked, like it was the most ridiculous question she'd ever heard.

I shrugged and shook my head internally before typing "petting zoo" into the itinerary.

It was a Saturday afternoon, the summer sun spilling into Tinsley's spacious kitchen, her Tiffany blue appliances and pale yellow walls cheerful. Millie and Maisie were happy; Tinsley was exhausted, but happy; Chelsea was a little buzzed, but happy; and I, I was doing well for myself.

"Why didn't you just hire a party planner?" Chelsea asked, her mimosa nearly gone now.

Tinsley's pretty features went flat. "Oh! Should I have? Oh, Claire, I know you're busy, I don't want to bother you-"

"Stop," I interrupted her. "Chelsea doesn't know what she's talking about. I'm not that busy anyways, I'd love to help."

This was true. The entire writing process had made me a recluse for months. The scheduling, contract negotiations, editng, editing ,editing, had left me with no social life. But now, in this limbo of two weeks from my novel being published, I actually had free time, and I had no idea what to do with it.

My book was about love, romantic love, rather, but in these past few months I had grown to appreciate other kinds of love that are just as important, just as magical. I loved Tinsley, for her determination, strength, and kindness. I loved Chelsea, for her boldness, her resolve, her loyalty. I loved Nick, for his honesty, his outstpokenness, his selflessness.

I loved George for his heart, and Matty for his soul.

"How are things with Owen?" Tinsley asked.

I smiled. "Good; great actually. He's so supportive, so kind, so-"

"So fucking hot," Chelsea finished for me.

I gestured a hand toward her, signifying her correctness.

"I still think he's too old for you," Tinsley said, her tea mug going to her lips. "Plus you don't talk about him the way you talked about Matty or George."