Quiet Sunday mornings were a rare treat. Most of the time, they were rushed – filled with meal prep and church activities that went right up to lunchtime. As longtime active members of Whitfield Presbyterian, going to church was part of the normal routine for both Mary and Grant. Their absence would, without a doubt, be noticed. Would it be interpreted as a sign of guilt?
More than once, Mary almost changed her mind about staying home. She’d miss cuddling with the babies in the nursery, but the idea of pampering her daughter, and therefore her grandchild-to-be, won the mental tug-of-war. At least when someone asked, she could say Sara had been home. It’d be considered a good excuse, Mary told herself as she refilled her coffee. Of course, plenty of people would have loved to see Sara this morning, too.
Mary glanced at the clock, wondering if she’d see Sara this morning. Maybe it was a sign that she’d been able to sleep soundly.
Only moments later, her daughter strolled into the kitchen still in her pajamas. “Hey, there,” Mary said. “Did you get some sleep?”
Pushing back her hair, Sara gave a fleeting smile. “A little. It felt good to be in my old bed, anyway.”
Mary pulled her close for a moment. “I’m glad. Coffee?”
“Sure.”
“You still adding about a cup of sugar?”
Sara screwed up her face. “A teaspoon would be fine. Where’s Dad?”
“Went outside with his coffee and newspaper a while ago, and I haven’t seen him since. Puttering around, I suppose.”
“Okay, I don’t want to miss telling him goodbye, and I can’t forget to try on the dress.”
“Right. Let’s do that before you get dressed. You don’t need to get back right away, do you?”
“No. Thought I’d leave around two.”
Her voice was matter of fact, but Mary didn’t miss the distant look on Sara’s face. Her daughter may be rested, may have worked out the perfect plan in theory, but Mary knew there was still some deep hurt to work through. It would take some time.
Just thinking about all the details Sara had in front of her made Mary’s head spin. A move, a job search, and a baby on the way could overwhelm anyone even without adding the emotional trauma of what she’d just experienced.
In her head, Mary mapped out the weeks ahead. So much to do. “Hey, I’ve been looking at my calendar,” she told Sara. “I could probably run down to Dallas with you for a few days the week before the wedding and help you look for apartments.”
“Oh, Mom, you don’t need to do that. I’m sure I won’t be ready. I’ll stay with my friends until I find a place. I can couch hop for a while if I need to.”
“What are you going to do with your things?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I leave the big stuff in Kanas City for an extra month. I doubt Natalie will mind.”
“And pay the rent?”
“I’ll have to pay through the end of the year, anyway. She’s not going to find another roommate that fast, and our lease is up in January. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but don’t sign anything until Dad or I can take a look. We want to make sure–”
“I’m not going to get a place in the ’hood.” Sara didn’t quite roll her eyes, but the tone of her voice conveyed the same message.
“Oh, that’s good to know.”
“Mom, I’m going to have to take this one thing at a time and see what happens. I can’t plan it all out and schedule it, and neither can you.”
Mary took a deep breath. It was the same old argument she always had with Sara. Mary wanted to plan, and Sara wanted to go with the flow. Wait and see what happened. She could never understand the purpose of waiting. Why wait when you could possibly have some input and direct the course of events in your favor?
“Fine. But you know I’ve got the wedding, then Dad and I are going to Phoenix, then the holidays. Things will get crazy around–”
Sara held up a hand. “I know. I’m not asking you to do anything.”
Mary went quiet for a minute. The last thing she wanted was to make the weekend even worse. Sara obviously wasn’t ready to deal with practicalities. And clearly didn’t get enough sleep. “Listen, sweetie, I’ve been pregnant before. You might start getting morning sickness. You’ll get tired more easily. You won’t be able to do lifting and moving after a few more months. You might need some help.”
“I’ll let you know. Just don’t try to manage me, okay? That doesn’t help.”
Neither would any retort that came to mind, Mary reminded herself. Instead of responding, she busied herself in the kitchen while Sara sipped her coffee. With a little luck it would improve her mood.
When Mary refilled Sara’s cup for the second time, she said in a much-too-cheery voice, “I’m ready when you are.”
Sara eyed her suspiciously. “Ready for what?”
A nap, Mary thought, suddenly feeling worn out. Not even noon, but I could go for a nap. “Trying on the dress,” she said.
“Oh. Right.” Sara pushed back her chair. “Yeah, I’m ready. Where is it?”
“It’s in the hall closet. You go on up. I’ll get it.”
She’d been careful to keep each dress hanging smoothly inside its own plastic bag. She lifted Sara’s from the bar and headed toward the stairs. Though she held the top of the hanger above her head, the plastic dragged along the floor, and a moment later Mary and the dress crashed in a heap. Her elbow slammed against the wall as her hip connected with the hardwood.
She let out a sharp yelp, and Sara clambered down the stairs.
“Mom! Oh, my gosh, are you all right?”
Mary winced, rubbing her stinging elbow. “I’m okay, I think.”
“What happened?”
Pushing off from the floor, Mary righted herself and wiggled her foot, unsure whether she’d simply tripped, or her foot had given way. She kicked off the shoe and stroked her foot. “I guess my shoe caught the plastic,” she murmured. “Pretty graceful, huh? I’m thinking my hip is going to match the color of your dress in the next day or two.”
“Do you need some ice?”
“No, no. I’m fine.”
“Jeez, you scared me.”
“Thanks for coming to the rescue.” Mary handed her the dress. “Here. Without further ado, let’s see how this looks, shall we?”
Sara started up the stairs with a glance back at Mary. “Might want to use the handrail.”
Mary swatted at her. “Go.” Still, she did as Sara suggested, just in case. In case what? She couldn’t shake the feeling that it hadn’t been an innocent stumble. She’d never been such a klutz before.
Inside her room, Sara faced the full-length mirror, and stepped into the shimmering dress. Mary zipped the back, pausing only a second to pay tribute to the sharp curve of her daughter’s waist, which was about to disappear – possibly forever. “Positively gorgeous.” Mary looked in the mirror and pinched the sides of the dress. “Looks to me like you have plenty of room, but I can let the seams out a smidge if you want. I’m sure you won’t be showing a bump by the wedding, but you might be losing your waist.”
“Can you do it?” Sara asked.
“I wouldn’t want to do any more, but I think I can manage a straight seam. I just hope the previous stitch marks won’t show.”
“It’ll be fine. No one’s going to be examining it. Besides, all the attention will be on Annie.”
Mary met Sara’s eyes in the mirror. “Sure you don’t want to let her in on the secret? She’ll be happy for you, you know.”
“No, Mom. There’s too much to tell. She can be happy for me after her honeymoon.”
“I feel kind of bad that we didn’t call or stop and see her when we were in Paxton yesterday.”
“I know. Me, too. But I talked to her a couple of times last week. It’s not a big deal.”
Good to know they were talking regularly, at least. Mary had always wanted her kids to be close. Two miscarriages in two years had kept them farther apart in years than she’d planned. The five-year age difference made it almost impossible for them to be close when they were young. Now that they were older, the family bond seemed to have blossomed into a friendship. Mary had almost wondered if Annie had chosen Sara as maid of honor simply out of convenience. It was easier than choosing one friend over another.
Her thoughts drifted back to the wedding. “You know, there’ll be toasts and drinking at the wedding and rehearsal dinner. Don’t you think Annie’s going to notice that you aren’t having big-girl beverages?”
“I’ll tell her I got wasted a few nights before and can’t stand the idea of alcohol or something.”
“Oh, good, we’re making up lies now.” Mary shook her head. “I’m not so sure about this.”
“Well, I’m not going to worry about it. If it turns out I have to tell her, then I guess I will.”
The old wait-and-see-what-happens philosophy again. “You can have a couple of sips of champagne for a toast. That won’t hurt the baby.” And then it struck Mary that Sara wouldn’t be the only one unable to drink. She sank onto Sara’s bed. How could she have missed that detail?
“You know what? Claire can’t drink, either. I’d better get some sparkling cider or something as an alternative. I completely forgot about that.” The death of her son and subsequent surprise divorce request from her cheating husband had left Mary’s best friend vulnerable, and she’d turned to alcohol for comfort. The past year had taken its toll, but she’d battled back. But she was, and always would be, on the wagon.
“She’s probably used to it by now. And it’s not going to matter to me, Mom. Will it just be Claire and Elise or is Elise bringing the kids?”
“Her whole family. It’ll be fun to see her kids and Brian. And all of Dana’s–” She stopped and put a hand to her chest. “Oh, wow.”
“What?”
“This is going to be hard on Claire,” Mary said softly. “I think this will be the first time we’ve all been together since…since Ben’s funeral.”
Sara stepped out of the dress and handed it to Mary. “I can’t imagine Evan or Maddie coming since neither one lives here.”
Mary looked at her in surprise. “They are coming. Why wouldn’t they? A wedding is a big deal. It’ll be like a reunion. Besides, it’ll be a good reason for them to come home and see their mom and each other.” Dana’s kids had scattered, just as Mary’s had. Only Chase, Dana’s youngest, still lived in Whitfield.
“Is Evan still in Tulsa?”
“Yes. Don’t you keep in touch?”
“Nope.”
“Oh. That’s too bad. The three of you used to be so close.”
“That was a long time ago, Mom. We pretty much lost touch after high school.” She shot Mary a questioning look. “You know that. Evan just didn’t–”
“What?”
“Didn’t want to be social.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Ben’s funeral.”
“Well let me tell you, he’s matured and filled out since then. I saw him a couple of months ago when he was home, and he had that facial hair that all the models seem to have now, and was full-throttle handsome.”
“Really? Well, he was always cute.”
“Hmm,” Mary murmured. “This could get interesting. Just wait. You might like what you see.”
Sara’s mouth dropped open. “Motherrrrrr,” she groaned. “Get real. We’ve got too much going on to start match-making. Besides, that’d be weird.”
“Why weird? You’ve known each other forever.”
“Exactly. Too much history. We were practically like brother and sister.”
“Which means you know each other well and have a lot in common.” Surely in light of recent circumstances Sara would figure out there was a lot to be said for knowing someone’s family and background. Mary shook her head. “Poor Evan. He had such a crush on you, and you always had an eye for Ben.”
“Mom, you do realize that until two days ago I thought I was in love with someone else, right?” She pulled a top over her head and reached for her jeans.
Mary moved forward and ran a hand down Sara’s shoulder-length hair. “I do. I’m sorry. I’m not making light of that. But…well, maybe the best thing for getting over him is finding the real Mr. Right, hmm?”
“I have no idea what Evan is doing now, Mom. Heck, he could be married. I told you, we don’t talk anymore.”
“You would know, because I would know.”
“Whatever. Give it a rest, okay?”
“Fine, but for the record, I don’t think he’s dating anyone.” She leaned in, meeting Sara’s eyes in the mirror. “And I know he isn’t bringing anyone with him to the wedding.”
* * *
Mary watched the taillights on Sara’s car disappear around the corner, then sank against the door frame, a nap on her mind once again. She’d get to that, but there was one thing she wanted more. She pushed the hair back from her face and headed for the phone. “I’m going to be on the phone for at least an hour,” she hollered to Grant.
He looked at his watch and followed her. “Guess that’s my cue. Meeting Doug to watch some football.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.
“Okay. Bye, love.” As soon as the door shut behind him Mary punched Claire’s number. Once neighbors, they were now separated by the two-hour drive between Whitfield and Wichita. Still, Claire remained Mary’s closest confidante aside from Grant.
“Well, hi, stranger. What’s–”
“Guess what?” Mary interrupted.
“Oh, I love these guessing games,” Claire drawled. “Let’s see…you’ve fallen, and you can’t get up?”
For a split second, Mary thought of her undignified trip to the floor that morning, and it unnerved her. “That’s not funny,” she said.
“Is too, but I give up. What’s going on?”
“I’m going to be a grandmamma!”
Claire let out a soft squeal. “Are you really? Oh, Mare, that’s big news. Which kid is crowning you with this title?”
“Sara.”
“Yeah? Ah, sweet Sara. She’ll be the coolest mom ever.”
“No doubt. She did have an excellent role model.”
“Or two,” Claire added.
Mary laughed. It was true. As neighbors and close friends, they’d been like second moms to each other’s kids. “Exactly. She’s only a couple of months along. Was here this weekend to try on her maid-of-honor dress again.”
“Oh, good thinking. Will it be okay?”
“I think so, but I’m going to let out the side seams a tiny bit to be sure.” Mary grabbed a sweater, and wandered out to the patio, feeling the familiar pang of missing her friend as she talked. Hard to believe it’d been almost a year and a half since Claire had divorced and moved to Wichita to be closer to her daughter and two grandkids.
“And, um. Not to be indelicate, but…what about daddy? The mystery guy that no one’s met? Are they getting married?”
Trust Claire to get right to the issue. Claire was the one friend who knew everything about Mary’s life. Naturally, she knew Sara had been dating someone.
“Oh, Claire. You won’t believe this.”
For the next forty-five minutes Mary filled Claire in on Sara’s situation and decision. “I sure would like to be closer to that baby, but I know Dallas is probably better for her. At least she can meet people there.”
“She’s so laid-back, though. Somehow, I don’t see her enjoying the big-city life and traffic.”
“True. Maybe after she tries it, she’ll realize it’s not a good fit.”
“You know I’d always hoped that she and Ben…” Claire’s wistful voice trailed off.
And Mary knew exactly where her thoughts had gone. “I know, hon. Me, too. It would’ve been so much fun.”
Claire gave a dry laugh. “Well, maybe. Think how jealous you’d be if I was the favorite granny.”
“Ha! As if.” But visions of the two of them duking it out over a baby’s affections had Mary chuckling, too. “Girlfriend, you sure do know how to spoil a Hallmark moment.”
“Anyway, you’ll probably have more than one grandkid underfoot soon enough. And Annie’s close enough for frequent grandmamma time.”
“I hope so. I’d love for their kids to be close. Hey, speaking of Annie, we’re not telling her about the baby yet, so zip your lips. You can’t tell anyone, especially not Elise.”
Claire’s daughter was one of Annie’s four bridesmaids. The two girls had been friends growing up and had reconnected after Claire’s divorce and subsequent fight with alcoholism. As awful as that time was, it had brought them all closer together.
“I won’t say a word, I promise. Listen, what can I do for Sara? Other than host a shower later, of course.”
Mary blew out her breath. “I honestly don’t know. I think she’s going to have to take care of things in Kansas City and wrap up her job before she can switch gears and get excited about the baby.”
“Why don’t you get me her current address? I’m going to send her something.”
Tears pricked Mary’s eyes. More than anything she hoped for a friend like Claire – someone who always had her back, always stepped in to help, and was always real – for each of her daughters. “You don’t have to–”
“Oh, stars and stripes,” Claire whooped. “I have an idea. How ’bout this. I’ll send flowers, a huge bouquet of roses, to her at work. Then all her co-workers will be talking about it, and maybe Jackass will hear. I could even tell the florist to say it’s a delivery from Dallas. That way people will assume she’s already got something good cooking down there. How’s that?”
Mary choked out a laugh. “Claire, you are priceless. Go for it, lady.”
* * *
While gas pumped into her car, Sara glanced at her cell phone, again. No messages. No new emails. Nothing. She hadn’t told anyone other than Todd and Natalie she was leaving town for the weekend, but you’d think she’d left the planet. She tossed the phone into the passenger seat. First thing she’d do when she got home would be to email her friends in Dallas that she’d be joining them soon. That’d create some buzz.
She considered calling Morgan, her best college friend, but Morgan knew about Todd. And she’d ask too many questions. The hard ones. Probably not a good conversation to have while driving. Even though she’d cut Todd out of her life, she couldn’t seem to keep from crying when she thought about the breakup. That was normal, she supposed. After all, she’d been dumped. Dumped and duped. The weasel.
As she swung the car onto the highway, Sara replayed the weekend in her mind. Her parents had taken the news as well as could be expected. No yelling or blaming. No big freak-out. She took a long drink of her Diet Coke, remembering the disappointment in her father’s eyes. That might haunt her for a while. At least she could depend on her mother defending and supporting her. She smiled. Her mom would always defend her ducklings.
Sara couldn’t explain why she’d gotten irritated with her mother that morning. It just happened sometimes – okay, that wasn’t true. It happened when her mom was trying to plan and control and put everything in a neat little box like the squares on her calendar.
Yes, she’d need her parents’ help, but Sara couldn’t stand to have someone hovering over her, breathing down her neck. And she wasn’t about to cave to pressure and move back to Whitfield. Sure, it’d be great to have her mom and sister handy to babysit and help out, but Sara didn’t even know anyone in Whitfield anymore. All of her friends had left.
She remembered her mother’s needling about Evan, and her thoughts turned to those days when she and Evan and Ben and all the siblings of the three families had been friends – or like one big extended family, overlapping and mixing into each other.
She and Evan had been in the same grade while Ben had been a year ahead, and always seemed older and more sophisticated. He’d been popular, and fun, always a leader. Yeah, she’d had a crush on him. As did every girl in school.
She swiped at the tears that threatened. The idea here was not to cry while driving, after all. They’d all scattered after college – or after her freshman year. After the disastrous spring break trip. They’d tried to mix Whitfield high school friends with new college friends on a ski trip to Winter Park. Did. Not. Work. Ben didn’t want to be responsible for anything. One of his friends started drinking first thing every morning. And he wanted to be their driver. Evan was totally uptight. At the time, she’d been annoyed with him for not loosening up a little. For being such a baby.
An unexpected wave of guilt rolled over her. Evan was probably the reason they’d all survived the trip. Afterward, they drifted apart. And then Ben died. Shot in Iraq. The night of his funeral they’d been together with some other friends. It was awkward. She barely remembered that day. Everyone was in shock, didn’t know what to say or do, so they’d gotten high. Then went their separate ways the next day. She and Evan had never spoken about the trip or Ben privately.
Would they talk at Annie’s wedding? Should they? What would be the point? So much time had passed. She gripped the steering wheel hard, the truth squeezing her lungs. The truth was, she’d lost two friends.
If she were honest about it, she’d pushed Evan away. Ben had, too. And it started in high school – when they’d become aware of their differences. And had started treating him differently. He had to do more things at home to help his mom. He didn’t have as much free time or money. Didn’t live in as nice a house. What he did have was a deadbeat dad.
Sara checked the rearview mirror then quickly moved into the next exit lane. She had to get off the highway. She pulled into the closest gas station and stopped the car. Then let the tears come.
A deadbeat dad. Exactly what her baby would have. After several minutes, maybe more, she drew in a huge gulp of air, shuddering and sniffling. She had to admit Todd wasn’t a total deadbeat. He was smart in the business environment. Had his MBA. Was neat and fun to be with. Good looking. He’d always been a gentleman on dates. At least her baby would have those genes – just not the person they belonged to.
Questions hammered her brain. Would it matter? Would people treat her child differently because she or he didn’t have a father? Could she compensate for that? For the first time, Sara felt a connection with Evan’s mom.
How many times had Sara heard her mother say how much she admired Dana? How she’d kept her family together, worked hard and raised good kids? Of course, her mother had helped out. So had Claire, and Dana’s mom and sister before their accident. Dana had done all of that and was a cool mom. She was fun and pretty and had a career.
Sara swiped at the tears again. Evan’s mom had been on her own a long time. Sara couldn’t even remember his dad. And now Dana was engaged. After all these years she was finally getting married again. Would Sara have to wait that long to find someone? Wait until her child was grown up? She flopped back against the headrest feeling a new sense of respect for Evan’s mom, for what she’d accomplished. And more than a little fear. Dana had done it. But could she?