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Confusion clouded his eyes for a second, but then he grinned. "Yes. Definitely the most curious woman ever."
I couldn't argue with that statement, so I didn't.
Chapter Three.
I crave Sat.u.r.day mornings the way my sister craves coffee-earnestly, with a pa.s.sion, and pretty much nonstop. Sat.u.r.days are about sleeping in, and then a full day doing whatever I want, with the knowledge I still have one more day off. Sundays are different. Sure, I can still sleep in, but the reality that Monday's just around the corner makes it not quite as special. On Sat.u.r.day, all things are possible. So when my coffee-addicted sister phoned me way too early on Sat.u.r.day morning, begging me to babysit her boyfriend's nephew, to say I wasn't jumping for joy is a mega understatement.
Elizabeth had to work, and her boyfriend had been called in to work unexpectedly, so they needed some help until the boy's mom could pick him up. Because my sister didn't ask for favors often, and because she really sounded stuck, I'd dragged myself out of bed and driven to her place. Lucky for her, watching Sam had been kind of fun. But now I was glad to be home.
Yawning, I climbed the steps to my condo and then stopped. Why was my front door open a crack? Had I left in such a hurry that morning, I'd forgotten to close and lock it? I couldn't discount that possibility, not right away. But as I mentally retraced my steps, I distinctly remembered turning the lock on the k.n.o.b and shutting the door behind me. My skin grew clammy and a rush of lightheadedness had me gripping the porch railing so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
Scooting to the edge of my narrow front porch, I tried to peek inside, hoping to discover who, if anyone, was there. The door wasn't open wide enough for me to see anything but the russet-painted wall of my entryway. No way was I walking in there. For one, I'd always hated those movies where people ran pell-mell into danger when they could have avoided it by being somewhat intelligent. For two, well-I'm not stupid.
Retreating to my car, I figured I'd go find a friendly police officer to help me out, when a thread of laughter hit my ears. I knew that laugh. It came from my younger brother Joe, who never, and I mean never, visited me alone. So if he was at my place, that meant the rest of my family was also. Swiveling on my heel, I checked out the cars that dotted the parking lot. Yep. My parents' ten-year-old boat of a car, my sister's falling-apart Volkswagen bug, my older brother's sparkling new SUV, Joe's refurbished Trans Am, and my Grandma Verda's Mini Cooper were all lined up in a nice, pretty row.
A new type of uneasiness slid in. Had my sister spilled the beans? If so, then my entire family being at my place was not a good sign. They'd have questions. Lots and lots of them, and they'd expect answers. A shudder rippled through me. No way, no how was I going into that mess until I knew. So I did what any her-family-doesn't-yet-know-she's-pregnant woman would do. I ran and hid.
Kneeling behind my car, I called my sister on my cell phone.
"Alice? Where are you?" my sister asked when she answered.
"I'm outside. Why are you all at my place?"
"Waiting for you, you goof. Come inside."
"Did you tell anyone about...you know?"
Elizabeth's voice lowered. "Of course not! I told you I wouldn't."
Patience was not one of my virtues, but I tried. Really, I did. "Spell it out for me then. Why are you all here?"
She huffed into the phone, as if she were exasperated with me. "What day is today?"
"It's Sat.u.r.day. Yesterday was Friday, and tomorrow is Sunday. That doesn't tell me anything." As soon as I spoke, though, I realized. "Oh, c.r.a.p. Is this some early surprise birthday thing?"
"Well, it's not now, is it?"
All at once, the early morning phone call made sense. "You set me up! You didn't need a babysitter."
"Oh, stop. We had to find some way to get you out of the house for a few hours. Just get in here." She giggled, clearly pleased with herself.
"Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I'll just get back in my car and take off. How'd you guys get in, anyway?" d.a.m.n. I was not in the mood for a birthday gathering. After a week of weirdness, I just wanted to be left alone. At least until Chloe had more information.
"You're a dork. Grandma still has a key." Her voice lowered again. "Get in here before Mom figures out I'm talking to you. She's glaring at me from across the room."
Before I could respond, my phone beeped and the call ended. So...great, just great. If I didn't make an entrance quickly, my sister would bring everyone outside.
For half a second, I contemplated leaving anyway. But that would just add fuel to the already roaring fire. Annoyed, I stared at my cell phone for a second. Then, tucking it back into my purse, I stood and straightened my oversized white shirt. Was it voluminous enough to cover my ever-growing baby b.u.mp? I wasn't huge by any stretch of the imagination, but I'd definitely begun to show. It had been several weeks since the last time I'd seen any of my family. Would they notice?
Probably. And that thought made me grab my sweater out of my car. Thank goodness I'd left it there. I'd have to tell everyone soon, but not today, and not all at once. That would be a level of h.e.l.l into which I wasn't ready to descend.
I pulled on the sweater. I hated surprises. Well, let me rephrase: It was the being surprised portion of surprises I didn't like. Planning out surprises for other people was a totally different story. For some reason, though, my family had failed to catch on to this. Or maybe they just ignored it.
"No time like the present," I muttered, taking the steps, once again, to my condo. Pushing the door open, I stepped inside. From the entryway, the dining room opened to the right, and I saw a huge birthday cake sitting on my table. The living room was on the left, and my family had decorated it with balloons and streamers. A Happy Birthday! banner hung over the entrance to my hall. And everywhere I looked, too many freaking people met my gaze.
Weirdly, no one noticed me right away. Again I thought of sneaking out, but before I could, all eyes turned toward me.
"Surprise!" my family yelled, in almost perfect unison.
I put a fake smile on. "Wow. I had no idea," I said. "Especially since my birthday isn't until Wednesday."
Grandma Verda, decked out in a turquoise running suit with orange piping matched with almost fluorescent purple sneakers, approached me. "If we'd waited until Wednesday, then it wouldn't have been a surprise, now would it?"
"I guess not." I gave her a quick hug.
"Besides, you probably have plans with your girlfriends on your birthday. This is for family only."
She was right. I did have plans with Chloe on Wednesday, but that wasn't really the point. "You guys should have let me know you were coming over."
"That wouldn't have been nearly as much fun." Her faded blue eyes zeroed in on me. "How are you feeling?"
"Surprised, I guess. Why?" I tugged at my sweater, worried it wasn't enough coverage to hide my condition. Besides, my grandmother? She wasn't just smart; she had this creepy and often right-on-target intuition about things.
"Just wondering. You're wearing a heavy sweater in the middle of May. I thought you might be ill." Her hand reached toward my stomach. I pivoted slightly away, so it landed on my hip instead.
"It was chilly when I left this morning. That's all," I lied. "Maybe I'm coming down with a cold."
"Uh-huh. How are you eating? Nutrition is important. I hope you're getting plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables." She clutched my arm. "Oh! And protein. You need protein."
"Um. Grandma? What are you talking about?"
"You've always been so skinny. I worry. That's all."
Hmm. Probably she wasn't being honest, but I'd take the out she gave me. Happily. "You don't need to worry. I'm eating plenty." Another fib, but what the heck, I was on a roll.
Luckily, she didn't question me further, just retreated to the couch where her seminew boyfriend sat. Vinny was a nice guy, and because they'd decided to live together, Grandma Verda had given me her condo. At the time I hadn't considered her reasoning behind the gift. Now I wondered how much she knew, and how long she'd known.
I made my way to my mother. Isobel Raymond stood near the kitchen, watching everyone with an eagle eye. She was dressed in one of her many housedresses, this one a pale green, and she held her body ramrod straight. Perfect posture and all that.
Her lips turned upward in a smile. "Happy birthday, sweetie."
"Thanks. Who planned this?"
She reached over, tucked a strand of my long hair behind my ear. "Your grandmother. She insisted. It came together wonderfully, didn't it?"
"Sure. Wonderful."
"Your grandmother seems to think you need cheering up." Her brown eyes, so similar to mine, bored into me. "Is there something going on you'd like to share?"
"Just busy at work." I didn't mention the other stuff. She'd drag me to a psychiatrist before I could say Boo! Though maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.
"Oh! I forgot to tell you. An old girlfriend of yours from high school called the house the other day. Since your number is unlisted, she couldn't find it. I gave it to her, so you'll probably hear from her soon."
For the life of me, I couldn't think of who would be phoning me from that many years ago. "Do you remember her name?" I asked.
"Shelby something. She was very nice."
"Shelby Whitaker? Harris?" My first reaction was fear. What if she'd told my mother she'd seen me at the OB's office? Almost as quickly, I calmed down. If my mother knew I was pregnant, she wouldn't hesitate to tell me.
"That's her. She gave me her number. I left it on the counter for you."
Before I could reply, my other brother, Scot, came up behind and wrapped his arms around me in a tight squeeze. "How's it feel to be thirty-three?" he asked in my ear.
Pulling out of his embrace, I faced him. "I'm still thirty-two, so ask me again on Wednesday." Scot was the typical big brother who'd taken great pains to pick on me every chance he got while we were growing up. Every now and then, our relationship echoed the past, but for the most part we got along well.
Other than-to my mind, anyway-he'd gotten all the looks in the family. Dark brown hair, almost black eyes, and eyelashes any girl would kill for were just window dressing on his tall frame and fit body. For some unknown reason, he'd remained single all these years.
His eyes skimmed over me and I sucked in my belly as much as I could. Then I curled my arms around myself. Scot tended to notice things. Other than my grandmother, he was the one most likely to catch on.
A quizzical expression flitted across his features. "Are you hot? Your face is red."
My mother interjected, "You do look flushed. Why don't you take that sweater off and get something cool to drink?"
I grappled with something to say that would make sense, but sadly, I had nothing. Thankfully, Elizabeth saved the day.
"Let's do cake and ice cream," my sister announced, stopping next to me. "It's your favorite, Alice. Dark chocolate and whipped icing."
My sister owns a bakery called A Taste of Magic, and normally the chance to eat anything she bakes is a walk this side of Heaven. Due to my pregnancy predicament, and the almost constant nausea, this was no longer the case. Of course, I couldn't say that. "Sure. Cake sounds great."
Elizabeth called the rest of my family to the dining room, and they gathered around the table. Verda and Vinny stood on the fringes, my grandmother's eyes suspiciously on my stomach. I sucked it in tighter. Next to them was Joe, who, with his fair complexion, blue eyes, and s.h.a.ggy blond hair, resembled a surfer boy hankering to catch the next wave. Funny, really, when my brother was a total tech geek.
He smiled at me. I smiled back. I loved all my siblings, but Joe had a special place in my heart. Mostly, probably, because all the annoying older sibling lessons I'd learned from Scot and Elizabeth, I'd been able to inflict on Joe. At least with him I'd always had the upper hand.
My father, Marty, an older version of Joe (except for his receding hairline) leaned against the wall of my dining room. I was calmest around my dad. He never poked his nose into anything, just accepted everyone for who they were and what they wanted to say. Gotta love that in a dad, you know?
After everyone sang, I leaned over to blow out my candles-all thirty-three of them.
"Don't forget to make a wish!" my grandmother interrupted. "Wishes are important!"
I ignored her and blew the dang things out. I'd had enough issues with wishes lately, and until I figured those out, I didn't plan on making any more. Besides, I wanted to push the party along and send everyone home. I needed to talk to Chloe. Badly.
"What did you wish for, Alice?" my grandmother asked, accepting a piece of cake.
"Health, happiness, and prosperity," I quipped. I finished handing out cake, and then took mine to the living room. Sitting down on my battered red papasan chair, a throwback from my college days, I tried to tune out the chattering all around.
The first bite of cake went down smoothly enough. So did the second, thank goodness. Not wanting to push my luck, I set the plate on an end table and leaned back. My family had clumped into groups. My brothers were chatting in the dining room. Vinny and Verda were back on the couch. My sister was on the phone, probably with her boyfriend, Nate.
My father approached, my mother right behind him. He offered me a card. "We didn't know what to get you, so I hope cash is okay," he said.
"Marty! Let her open it before telling her what's inside," my mother scolded.
"Oh! Are we doing presents now?" This question came from my grandmother.
"Cash is always good." Opening the card, I read the birthday sentiment and a rush of emotion hit me. No matter how completely insane my family could be, they were all about love and sticking together. Maybe it was time to tell them about the baby.
Glancing up, I saw my sister watching me. She nodded, as if reading my thoughts. Before I could gather my courage, though, my grandmother slid a brightly wrapped present toward me, by way of my mother.
When the present reached me, I gasped. Oh, no. The paper had women, in varying stages of pregnancy, all over it, with the word CONGRATULATIONS in huge pink and blue letters. Quickly I ripped the paper off and crumpled it up into a ball, hoping no one else would notice. No one said anything, so I must have been successful.
Under the paper was an unmarked white box. I sent a silent prayer upward that it didn't contain anything pregnancy or baby-related, like a breast pump. I picked off the tape holding the lid shut and slowly opened it. A jade green blouse lay inside, along with a gift card to a maternity clothes shop.
Heaven help me.
Tucking the gift card beneath the blouse, I tipped the box around to show everyone. "Thank you, Grandma. It's a beautiful color."
"That is pretty! Let me see," my mother said.
Because it was all too likely it was a maternity shirt, and no way in h.e.l.l was I going to hand it to my mother, I set the box down beside me. "I'll try it on later and model it."
We finished with gifts. My brothers and my sister had banded their resources together to buy me some new art supplies-always a welcome choice. Using my foot, I pushed the box from my grandmother farther back, so that it sat beneath the frame of my chair, then grabbed a folded blanket and shoved it over the top.
That moment earlier, when I'd almost confessed all? I'd had second thoughts. Better to wait and do it slowly. Like, maybe tell them from the hospital when I was in labor. My stomach twisted and a wave of nausea had me clamping my mouth shut.
"I'll be right back," I said, jumping up and running to the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the tub, willing my stomach to settle. I hated this, the loss of control. My body did what it wanted to do, when it wanted to do it, and that freaked me out.
Hushed voices drifted in-my grandmother's and my sister's voices, to be precise, and they must have been right outside the bathroom door. Maybe it was rude to listen, but it's not my fault they chose that particular spot to chat. So yeah, I eavesdropped.
"Have you told her yet?" asked Grandma Verda.
"No. Miranda said to wait. That I'd know when the time was right." This came from my sister.
"Elizabeth! She needs to know. It's been almost a month since you gave it to her. You know how unpredictable it can be. How much longer are you going to wait?"
"Shh. She'll hear you. I'll tell her, but not yet. Miranda said she'd come to me."
My mind worked through what I'd heard, but it was like trying to decipher Russian. Gave me what? And who was Miranda? I started to stand, but a soft knock on the door stopped me. "Yes?"
"Alice? It's me, Elizabeth. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. You can come in."