“Here comes your ride,” Grant told Mary as they lingered by the door waiting for the all-clear.
Mary peeked into the hallway. Then froze. The wheelchair Dana pushed toward her advanced like some stealthy beast ready to attack. A wheelchair? That was ridiculous. What happened to the cane suggestion? Wheelchairs were for the disabled, the immobile, and she did not qualify. She breathed a sigh of relief when Dana stepped around the chair and shoved it against the wall.
“Leaving us so soon?” Dana asked.
Mary attempted a smile. “Nice place you’ve got Madam Administrator, but I’m outta here.”
“What’s the news?”
“More tests.”
“Oh, Mare. What kind of tests?”
“Starting with an MRI. Checking out the old brain function. Hopefully they’ll see a wave or two.”
“Come on. What are they looking for?”
“At this point, I think they’re looking for anything.”
“So, no diagnosis?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
Dana moved in and wrapped her arms around Mary. “Please do. And take care of yourself.”
“That’s the plan. Hey, we have a question for you. Think Kent might have any recommendations for cleanup companies? Both of the rooms that now have smashed windows also have carpeting. How will we ever get all that glass out?”
“Might have to replace the carpet,” Grant chimed in.
“But what a hassle to try and get that done before Christmas.”
“I’ll ask him, and let you know,” Dana said. “Listen, do you want to take a rain check on Thanksgiving?”
“Absolutely not. We’re looking forward to it.” Mary realized the weak leg combined with a bum wrist was probably a recipe for disaster if she were to attempt serving at the church dinner, so she’d have to bail out of that. A trip to Dallas also seemed unlikely now. She wasn’t giving up Dana and Kent, too. “Our place. Any time after four.”
“Okay. We’ll talk. What a crazy night you’ve had. Let’s get you in this wheelchair, and let you get home.”
Uh, no. A cane was going to be bad enough. Besides, she had Grant. Mary waved her hand. “Not necessary.”
“Hospital policy, my dear.”
She was about to protest when Grant nudged her. “Just play along, babe.” Resisting a retort, Mary sank into the chair feeling ridiculous. She had a feeling she’d be doing a lot of “playing along,” in the next few weeks. It wasn’t her strong suit.
By the time Grant pulled the car into their driveway, it was almost eleven o’clock. Though she’d slept at the hospital, Mary wanted nothing more than to lose herself in a set of sheets and drift off to la-la land. Unfortunately, her rumbling stomach screamed for attention, and her doctor’s to-do list loomed large in her mind.
“I’ll come around,” Grant told her as he opened the car door.
Mary paused. “I wonder if the neighbors will like what we’ve done to the place,” she said, referring to the plywood-covered windows. “Pretty classy.”
“I’ll call Crane and get new windows ordered this afternoon. Maybe we can get them in before Christmas.”
“Yeah, guess I’ll make some calls, too,” Mary murmured, stepping inside the house. It was like walking into a time warp. Didn’t seem possible they’d been in Phoenix yesterday.
“You want me to help with the calls?” Grant asked.
“No. You deal with the windows, and I’ll call the doctors. Are you sure about Kansas City, though? If I went to Wichita, I could stay with Claire.”
“It’s we, darlin’ and, yes, I think Kansas City is going to have better doctors and facilities.” He drew her into his arms. “Like I said, I don’t want to mess around.”
Play along, she repeated in her head.
Thirty minutes later, Mary curled up on the guest room bed with a warm cup of chai tea, her phone, laptop, and the papers from Dr. Bates. Scheduling an MRI was no problem but getting in to see the doctor proved more of a challenge. And it would take two trips to Kansas City. The MRI should be done several days ahead of the doctor visit to allow the doctor to review it, the scheduling nurse told her. And just in case the MRI was inconclusive, the doctor may want a lumbar puncture, so she should allow plenty of time. That meant being prepared for an overnight stay. Reluctantly, she scheduled the MRI for Monday, before the council meeting, and the doctor appointment for Thursday. Then she closed the tab for the University of Kansas Hospital and did what she’d been putting off – a search for the potential causes behind her symptoms.
The sheer number of results was staggering. Forcing her eyes to remain open, Mary started a Word document to begin making notes and copying website addresses for future reference. This could take days.
Words like neuropathy and vasculitis needed more investigation. But words like fatigue, pain, numbness and chronic flashed like warning bells again and again, showing up page after page until Mary wondered just how many different diseases she could have.
When the doorbell rang, Mary flopped back against her pillow, listening for signs that she needed to put in an appearance. She strained to hear the voices at the door. Sounded like their closest neighbor, whose house sat about half a city block down the street. Probably curious about the windows. Nothing that required her presence.
A few minutes later Grant appeared at the bedroom door. “How you feeling?”
“Fine. Ready for a nap.”
Grant took the laptop from her and closed it. “Probably a good idea. Looks like three to four weeks on the windows.”
Mary groaned, though it was what she expected. Whatever. Just windows, right? She didn’t have the mental energy to worry about it.
“I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours,” Grant told her, switching off the lamp, and landing a kiss on her forehead. “You get some rest.”
By the time the doorbell rang again at six, Mary had managed a nap, waking with enough energy to fix her hair and dust on a little make-up.
She smiled as Doug and Jane come through the door.
“Thought I’d better check my handiwork, make sure it cuts the muster.”
“Yes, thank you,” Mary said. “I’m always quite particular about the plywood application on my house.”
Grinning, Doug leaned in with a peck on her cheek. “I knew it.” He set a box on the island counter. “And here’s dinner.”
Jane peeked around a vase of cheery flowers. “How about I put these in the dining room?”
“Perfect,” Mary told her. She should probably play hostess and offer a drink or go into the family room, but she didn’t want to budge. The hot pink and leopard-print cane that Dana and Grant had picked out was tucked under the counter, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull it out. Not yet. Jane would talk to Claire, and an automatic chain reaction would begin. Claire would talk to Elise. Elise would talk to Annie. Then Claire and Annie would swoop in, bombarding her with questions. Who needed that?
The men had wandered into the living room when Jane returned, a curious expression on her face.
“So, what goodies are in here?” Mary asked, lifting the covering from the box on the counter. “Oooo. Smells delish.”
“Roast and potatoes. And a salad. The best part is a small lemon meringue from Hannah’s. Do you have any idea how intimidating it is to take food to one of the best cooks in town?”
Mary grinned. “That should keep you from making a habit of it.”
“As would you staying away from the hospital.”
Mary’s throat clogged. The natural retort would be that she didn’t plan to make a habit of being around the hospital. But that might actually be a lie. She brushed off the comment. “Still, I have to say the free food and flowers are pretty sweet. Thanks so much for all you’ve done, my friend.”
“Yeah. I have something to tell you about the flowers.” The dry tone of Jane’s voice told Mary something was up.
Raising her brows, Mary stared at Jane. “Do tell.”
Jane took a seat. “I ordered the flowers from Tina, who it turns out has hired some extra seasonal help.
“Uh-huh.”
“Guess who she hired?”
Oh, no. Eyes bulging, Mary clapped a hand over her mouth. She knew ‘who’ immediately. “Regina.” Tina Mansfield owned one of two floral shops in town, and sometimes hired Regina Daniels to help with events. Since Bobby’s layoff, Mary had heard Tina had been offering Regina more work.
“So, Regina answered my call, and when I said who they were for, she told me the shop was too busy. Tina called me a few minutes later. Apparently, Regina had a huge conniption fit and stormed out of the shop.”
Mary shook her head. “That’s just great. So now in her mind I’m responsible for her losing work, too. Where is this going to end?” She paused, unsure whether the other fact of the story had circulated. “You know it was Rob, their oldest, who broke our windows, right?”
“Doug told me, but I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. There’s been talk at school that things aren’t good on the home front, that Bobby and Regina have been fighting. Supposedly someone called Bobby a loser, and that set Rob off.”
“Figures. Grant wants to let him off with community service. Try not to talk about it, okay? Spreading the word could make things worse.”
Could they get worse? Mary certainly hoped not. She felt bad for Bobby and the family but what else could she do about it? “Oh, man. I can just imagine Regina’s face when she found out the flowers were for me. She’s been so nasty since Bobby lost his job.”
“Kind of serves her right,” Jane said.
Mary shook her head with a rueful smile. “That karma thing sure can be a bitch.”
“For sure. Listen, we’d better get going. You two enjoy dinner and take it easy. I’ll catch up with you in a day or so,” Jane told her, heading toward the door.
Mary gave a last wave, then grimaced as she turned and passed her boarded-up living room. In her mind, she understood that the loss of a job affected the whole family, and that kids could behave erratically. Though she couldn’t imagine any of her kids resorting to vandalism, she was grateful none of them had ever had to experience anything that traumatic.
In fact, the biggest “mistake” one of her kids had made was going to be a blessing.
* * *
The end of the workday meant Sara could stop watching the clock, stop waiting for her phone to ring. There would be no more interviews scheduled. No job offers extended. She could put another X on her calendar.
She forced herself to chug the rest of the milk in her glass. It was one of her least favorite beverages, but she’d committed to two glasses a day. It would be followed momentarily by a handful of dried cranberries and almonds. That should get her by until supper.
Treats in hand, she wandered into the bedroom that had become hers over the weekend. The apartment was quiet without Morgan, but Sara was happy to have her own space, and a place to put her clothes. Living out of a suitcase got old in a hurry. She grabbed a light fleece vest from the closet, thinking a walk around the complex sounded good. She needed the exercise, and also needed to clear her head – to stop thinking about Imagine Media and get ready for her interview with the employment agency tomorrow. It was the last of the headhunters she’d connected with.
If nothing came through in the next week, she’d have to dig deeper. No need to panic, though. Even with the Cobra insurance premiums, her checking account could go a little while longer before it felt the sting of the missing paycheck, and she calculated another month of easily camouflaging her pregnancy.
Tucking her phone in her pocket, she made her way to the sidewalk that looped around the apartments, figuring she had almost an hour before dusk. Funny how her concerns had shifted in the last few weeks – uneven sidewalks in the dark now presented a hazard she wouldn’t have thought about before.
She’d taken about five steps when her phone buzzed, and her pulse jumped. Perhaps an end-of-the-work-day decision? Not even close. Her sister’s face appeared on the screen. Back from Belize.
“Hi there!” Sara said. “Is this Mrs. Oliver?”
Annie laughed. “Definitely not used to that yet.”
“So, how was the honeymoon?”
“Absolutely fabulous,” she crooned.
As if there could be any other answer. “Did you get back last night?”
“Saturday night. Dealt with some jet lag yesterday and went to work today.”
“Wow. That’s hitting the ground running.”
“I knoooooow,” Annie groaned. “I’m so glad we decided not to try and rush around to see both families for Thanksgiving. We need some down time to get things put away and start on thank-you notes.”
“I bet. It’s going to be weird, though, not going home for Thanksgiving.”
“I’m sure Mom and Dad would love to have you if you wanted to go to Whitfield.”
“Oh, I know. But it’s a lot of driving. And I think they’ve already made other plans. It’ll be fine.”
“Have you heard from them? I got a text from Mom yesterday.”
“Yeah. Talked to Dad on Friday. Sounds like they’re having fun. Did you see the goofy pictures they posted on Facebook?”
“Yes. Oh, my gosh.”
“The one you posted of you and Blake on the beach was adorable. When do you think you’ll get some pics from the photographer?”
“She sent a few, but I haven’t had a chance to do anything with them. I can’t wait to see them all.”
“It was gorgeous.”
“It was.” Annie’s voice went soft and dreamy, and Sara could easily picture the big, dopey smile on her sister’s face. “I can’t believe it’s already been more than a week.”
“What do you remember most about the wedding? What was your favorite part?”
“Oh, wow. Walking down the aisle and seeing Blake standing there waiting for me. I just wanted to run and shout and throw my arms around him. Really, the bride should skip and dance down the aisle not walk those slow, painful steps.”
“Oh, good idea,” Sara said, laughter in her voice. “I think that’s what I’ll do.” Never mind that the only aisle she’d be walking down any time soon was at the food market.
“You know what else was super cool? Dancing with Dad. He said something I’ll never forget.”
Sara caught her breath. “Yeah?”
“He asked if I felt beautiful. Because when Blake and I first got engaged, Dad sat down with me one night, and we had this awesome talk. He asked me if I was sure, and then he asked, ‘When he looks at you, do you feel beautiful? Can you see it in his eyes? Do you feel it?’”
She paused for a beat, presumably for dramatic effect. Sara’s throat was tight with sudden tears when Annie continued.
“Then he said, ‘When I look at your mom, I want her to know I’m looking at the most beautiful thing in my life. And I want that for you and Sara.’ Isn’t that sweet?”
The tears came hard, gushing down Sara’s cheeks.
“Sara? Sara! What’s wrong?”
She sniffled, and swiped at her eyes, but couldn’t talk. She dropped onto a bench near the clubhouse. Her dad had never said anything like that to her. Their last conversation had been…polite. He’d asked about her job search, and how she was feeling, but nothing deeper. At the time, Sara had thought it was nice of him to call. But she understood now that the call had lacked some emotion.
“Didn’t mean to get you so choked up,” Annie said. “Are you going to make it?”
Finally, Sara let out a muffled laugh. “Yes, that was sweet. Yes, I’m fine.” Maybe her dad had been caught up in the whole wedding atmosphere and it made him more emotional. She tried to remember the details of his call on Friday, but her sister’s voice interrupted her thoughts again.
“Anyway, what’s going on with you? Any good prospects?”
“I assume we’re changing the subject and talking about jobs?” Sara asked.
Annie laughed. “Well, I was, but if there are any other interesting prospects, then spill.”
“No. Not much to tell. One interview tomorrow, and then that’s it for the week. Everyone’s taking off for the holiday. I’m sure I won’t hear from anyone until next week.”
Sara pushed off from the bench and began walking again. Of course, the biggest thing “going on” with her was the fact that she was on her way to becoming a mommy. Sara had told her mother she’d share the news with Annie after the wedding. So, it was after the wedding. She could tell her now, but it didn’t feel right. Annie was still very much caught up in being a newlywed. Waiting until Christmas when everyone would be together seemed to make more sense. By then, she’d have a new job, and–
“Did you find a place to live?”
“Oh, here’s some news. Morgan moved in with her boyfriend, so I’m going to sublet for a few months.”
“Ah, too bad. I thought Blake and I might visit you in January or February when it’s still cold and nasty here.”
“Well, we’ll see. If I get a job that’s in another part of town, I’ll go ahead and move. You can still visit, though.”
“Maybe. Okay, I better get going. Keep me posted on things.”
“Sure.” Sara told her sister goodbye and picked up her pace, determined not to dwell on her sister’s call or her dad’s call from Phoenix. It was nice that he’d phoned. No point trying to read anything else into it.
The fact that it was near the end of November, and she was outside walking with only a light vest was enough to cheer her. No coat. No gloves. No frigid cold or biting wind. No snow. To keep her mind occupied while she walked, Sara tossed around baby names and room décor ideas, trying to imagine what it would be like having a boy or a girl. She couldn’t quite bring herself to hope for one over the other, though she couldn’t help thinking that it might be best if the baby was a girl.
By the time she returned to the apartment, Sara’s stomach had resumed its nagging. She opened the refrigerator and debated her meal options. She could thaw a chicken breast and add it to a salad or some pasta and brocc– No. French fries. She wanted french fries. For the past few weeks, she’d craved salty foods. Had gone so far as to add salt to her cucumber-and-tomato salad and a slice of watermelon. Unfortunately, most salty things seemed to be junk food like pretzels and chips and, sigh, french fries. The burger place a few blocks away made good hamburgers and the best fries she’d found in Dallas so far – thin and cooked to perfection with a light, crunchy outside.
Decision made. She grabbed her purse and keys and headed to her car. But before she started the engine, her cell phone chimed again. Hmmm. Few calls trumped food these days. She checked the screen. Evan. They’d talked every couple of days since Annie’s wedding. The early conversations were tentative emails. Then they became more immediate texts and some funny Snapchats – sharing silly things that happened during the day. Lately, they’d been longer phone calls. Sara preferred talking to typing. She could keep her hands free and do other things while she talked. Plus, she discovered she liked the sound of Evan’s voice. Deep and soothing, it was easy to listen to.
She tapped the screen. “Hi.”
“Hey, what are you up to?”
“I was about to bust my diet and go for a burger and fries. What about you?”
“Diet? Are you kidding? If I’m talking to the same girl I saw a couple of weeks ago, I’d say that’s completely unnecessary.”
Good answer, Sara thought. “Thanks, but I don’t mean a diet to lose weight. I’m just trying to eat well. You know, cut out some of the junk.” She gave a little laugh. “Or be more selective, anyway.” At least that wasn’t a lie. She didn’t have to give him all the details. “It’s hard here. Since the weather is nicer, I’m eating as if it’s summer. Ice cream is a problem.”
“Impossible. Ice cream is never a problem.”
“Well, I’m trading it for fries today. And pie soon. You know it’s pumpkin pie season.”
“Yes. I’m aware of that. You going to Whitfield for Thanksgiving?”
“Nope. Staying put until Christmas. What about you?”
“Same. Everybody thinks bankers have cushy hours, but we’re open for business on Friday, and I gotta be here.”
“What will you do for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“One of the guys in the office feels like it’s his duty to invite all the singles to his place. His wife does a huge spread, and it’s a decent group of people.”
“That’s nice. At least you won’t be home alone. Or eating at Denny’s.”
“I hope those aren’t your options. If that’s the case, you’re coming to Tulsa.”
Sara laughed out loud. Nice that he was concerned about her options. “Thanks for the invite, but we’re doing something low-key here. It’s fun to be with friends and family, but I don’t need the big, fancy ordeal that my mother does. Waaaay too much effort. She works on it for days, and it’s over in thirty minutes.”
“True. Makes it special, though. Hey, am I keeping you from those fries?”
He was indeed, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to end the call. Her stomach could wait. “No. It’s okay.” Unbuckling the seatbelt, she twisted around and stretched her legs to the passenger seat.
“What are you doing the rest of the weekend?” he asked.
“Probably absolutely nothing. Movies, books, waiting around to hear from all the people who want to hire me.”
Evan chuckled. “No doubt there are dozens. And you know they’ll all call at the same time, right?”
“Of course.”
“Just thinking out loud here. Would a little company make the time pass faster?”
Sara’s heart skipped a beat, and she held her breath. Was he suggesting a visit? Would he drive all that way just to hang out with her for a while? It definitely would make the time pass more quickly, but it’d also add some stress. She’d be in pregnancy cover-up mode. Still, a boring weekend yawned before her.
“Well, I– Yeah, that would be–” Jeez, she was stammering like an idiot. “Not sure if– Let me check with my roommate. We’ve got a sofa–”
“Sara, I’m not inviting myself to stay at your place. I’m sure there’s a hotel somewhere close by. It’s four hours here to there. I can be there by ten Friday night.”
“Umm…” Her mind went completely blank. A hotel?
“Give me your address, and I’ll Google it.”
She managed to remember that.
“Okay, I’ll look into it and get back to you. If you’re sure you want company.”
“Of course. Yeah, that’d be fun.” This time she said it like she meant it. And she did. “Not sure what we’ll do, but–”
“We can find things to do. Obviously, we can put going for ice cream on the agenda. Or we can do nothing. It’ll be good either way.”
Sara couldn’t help laughing. “Okay.” It definitely beat the big fat nothing she had planned before. “But Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t mention it to your mom, okay?”
“Our secret,” he told her, the humor in his voice telling her that he understood the direction her thoughts had gone – grapevine city. “Everything under control with them? Mom told me about the house.”
“The house? What do you mean?”
“Talked to my mom over lunch today, and she said your house had been vandalized last night.”
“Last night?” Sara sat upright. “Oh, my gosh. Did she call my parents? They’re out of town.”
“Really? I got the impression they were home when it happened.”
“No. They’re in Phoenix. Supposed to be home late tomorrow night.” Sara shook her head, remembering her mother’s comments about the things she’d know about Evan due to the mom network. Still going strong, apparently.
“Huh. Don’t know what to tell you. I’ve got to trust my source on this one.”
“Right. Good grief. I guess I need to check in with my parents.”
“Parents. Can’t let ’em out of your sight for a minute.”
“Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Sounds like I better let you go. Call me later if you feel like it. I’ll probably just be watching TV.”
Maybe she would, if she wanted to spend the entire evening on the phone. Might be time to try a video call. Re-adjusting in her seat, Sara started the car. Food first, then she’d check in with her mother.
A few moments later, Sara laughed at herself. There, right behind the restaurant was a strip center, and right behind that was a Hilton Garden Inn. She hadn’t noticed it before, but it was the perfect location. She’d give Evan a call later.
* * *
Back at the apartment, Sara practically inhaled the burger and fries. She licked the last of the salt from her fingers then tossed the wrappers in the trash, feeling satisfied. Behind her, Leah opened the oven door, and the air was suddenly filled with the scent of baking bread.
Sara took a giant whiff. “Oh, my. That smells amazing,” she told her roommate. “What kind is it?”
“Pumpkin,” Leah said, grinning. “Tomorrow is cranberry walnut, my specialty.”
“Mmm. My nose and my tummy thank you. Who needs turkey, anyway?”
“I do,” she said. “I want the works. Morgan says we’re supposed to start the turkey at seven o’clock. She and Sam will be here about ten-thirty. Everyone else around eleven-thirty.”
“Sounds good to me.” Sara was fine with being handed her marching orders and letting the others take charge. Too many cooks was, well, too many. She retreated to her room and punched in her mother’s cell number.
“Hey, Sarie!” Her mother’s cheery voice came on the line. “What are you up to?”
“Mom! I just heard some weird news. Are you at home?” She heard the deep sigh from the other end.
“We are. I–”
“What happened?”
“Oh, nothing terrible. I took a little spill, and we decided to come back early.”
“A spill? Are you hurt?”
“Broken wrist. No big deal. Hope you don’t mind all your Christmas presents will be tossed in bags this year.”
Sara smiled. Sounded trivial enough, but she knew that would take some fun out of Christmas for her mother, who loved to create packages that could put Martha Stewart to shame.
“I’ll try not to be too disappointed. Left or right wrist?”
“Left. So, I’m not completely non-functioning.”
“That’s good. Did something happen at the house?”
Another heavy sigh. “Who have you been talking to?”
Sara rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to divulge that information. “Mom, seriously? Does that matter? What happened? I can’t believe you didn’t call.”
“Oh, honey, it’s a crazy, tedious story, and I don’t want it blown out of proportion. We had a little vandalism. A couple of windows broken is all. Nothing to worry about. How are things with you? Do you have something to do for Thanksgiving?”
Sara couldn’t help grinning. As of about an hour ago, her weekend plan got a whole lot more interesting. “Yes. We’re having a few people over here. Low key.”
“Nice. Have you told your friends you’re pregnant?”
“Only Morgan. Everyone else can wait.”
“Everyone?”
Sara knew where her mother’s thoughts had landed. She absolutely could not start spreading the word. Not with Evan coming to visit. “Yes. Everyone. Including Annie and Jason and everyone in Whitfield, Mom. I’ve decided to wait until Christmas.”
“Why?”
“Because no one needs to know yet.”
“I don’t understand why you want to keep it a secret. Are you having second thoughts?”
How to answer that? The last thing Sara wanted was to let her mother know that her change of plans had anything to do with Evan. “I just need some time to get settled. Another month isn’t going to matter.”
“I’d love to hang a sweet little extra stocking on the mantel, Sarie. Would that work?”
That visual nearly took Sara’s breath away. A Christmas stocking for her baby. That would be sweet. It might be a cute way to make the announcement to the family. “I’ll think about it,” she said. But in her mind, it still seemed too soon.
She rested a hand on her abdomen. That was still a month away. By then, she’d have her first sonogram. Might even know the gender. And then it would be so…real.