MOMMY WEARS A GREEN T-SHIRT

BOOK 3

CHAPTER 1

It was all Roman’s fault. If he hadn’t been so ... zealous ... I wouldn’t have been sitting there staring at the little plus sign thinking my life was over. We were married, so he hadn’t broken any rules. But two months was way too soon. Or two years. Or two decades.

“You did this to me,” I said from my position in the bathroom. I was completely out of his view, but my voice echoed against the tile.

“I did what to you?” he replied.

He’d been doing book work when I went in there. Well, he could add this.

“If you weren’t so sexy,” I continued.

“Sexy, huh?”

I could picture him right then. He’d have that crooked smile on his face that said he was amused. Not funny.

“Yeah, like some kind of Greek god, all tanned and sleek and ... unable to resist.”

“Seems like you’ve done your part to attract me,” he said.

“Done my part? All I have to do is roll over and you’re on me like a fly in manure.”

He was actually laughing now. “That’s a terrible analogy,” he said.

Yeah, it was bad, but it was the first thing I could think of.

“If you weren’t so careless.”

That part I totally blamed on him. I mean, preventing this kind of thing was his responsibility. We’d talked and agreed I wasn’t taking the pill. I didn’t like the long-run health risk.

“Careless about what?”

I jumped in place. He was leaning in the door, so the volume of his voice had changed. I waved the test in front of him.

“This. Thanks to you I’m ... I’m ...” I couldn’t get the word to emerge. I was an old woman with cankles in a bike race – breathless.

His eyes grew wide. He snatched the test from me and turned it around. “Y-you’re pregnant?”

Somehow, him saying it freed my tongue. And my temper. I stood to my feet and jabbed at his chest. “That’s right, Mr. Sexy. Mr. Blond-haired-green-eyed beefcake. And you did this to me. You and your charming, smooth-talking, persuasion.” I backed him into the hallway. “If you’d only have kept your shirt on.” I was huffing and puffing. “And your hands to yourself.”

“You used your hands on me, too,” he replied.

“Not the point.” I backed him toward the bedroom. “And then there’s the cologne. You know what that does to me.”

Always had done to me. The first time he’d worn it when I was hired at the shop I’d been reduced to a babbling idiot.

“You asked me to wear the cologne.”

“You could have refused.”

“We’re married. I like what it does to you.”

This was an interesting admission.

“You like me weak at the knees?”

“Maybe we should turn this around.” He grabbed hold of me and spun us in a circle. Now, I was the one with my back to the bed. I should have anticipated him doing that.

“Maybe if you didn’t have such great lips,” he said.

“You’re the one with great lips. I told you that from the start.” I had. In fact, way before I knew I liked him, and I’d wanted to kiss him then. Drat, if I didn’t want the same right now. He was making me think it.

“Our parents will be happy,” he said.

I tripped over the side of the bed and fell flat on my back. Lying there, I stared up at him. He was great, seriously-newly-married-can’t-get-enough-of-him great.

“Our parents will not find out.”

This brought a crease to his brow. “Why not? We’re supposed to be happy about this, not fighting over it.”

“Because I’m not ready to tell them. Or anyone. I’m not ready to admit that I’m ... I’m ...”

“Pregnant,” he said.

It hit him too then. He crouched over me, his face hanging over mine. “I can’t believe it.”

“You ought to, or do I need to explain the birds and the bees to you?”

He grinned. “No, you don’t need to explain them to me. I’m very familiar.”

He lowered his mouth to mine, and I turned my head. Therefore, it landed somewhere near my ear. Undeterred, he proceeded to toy with the lobe, which strangely felt really good. Honestly, I was such a sap where Roman was concerned.

“You’re not going to win me over,” I said. “I’m not through being mad.”

He was laughing in my ear. “I’ve already won you over. You’re wearing my ring, and I remember vows and a ceremony.”

“With me in sneakers.”

“That was so you,” he said. “Great memory.”

“If I didn’t love you so much,” I continued.

His hand gripped my chin and spun it toward his. “You do love me.”

Gosh yes. I loved him more than words.

“That’s your fault, too.”

He snorted. “Your loving me is my fault?”

I nodded. “Getting past the whole hottie thing ...”

This made him laugh further.

“You’re so good to me. You’re my male ideal.” He always had been. He was faithful, dedicated, patient and kind. He did have flaws, but so far in our married life they were minor compared to all the good stuff. I’d married the best man on the planet.

“Sounds like this really is all my fault,” he said.

“Finally!” I raised my arm, triumphant. “He admits how he’s snookered me, and now, I’m ... I’m ...”

“Pregnant,” he supplied. He dropped his mouth to mine again.

This time I didn’t turn away, but gave in to the beauty of him. He pulled back at the end, and hooking his fingers on the bottom of my shirt, tugged it over my head and tossed it in the floor. He brought one hand down on my belly, which was as flat as it’d been that morning.

“What made you wonder?” he asked.

I rose up on my elbows and stared down at his palm. He had soft hands, but he wasn’t an outdoorsman. Roman was all about numbers and figures, and I liked him that way.

“I’m late.”

His gaze met mine.

“By two weeks.” The fact he hadn’t noticed was such a guy-thing.

“So you bought the test,” he said.

I nodded. It was all becoming real right then, and fear crawled over me. I couldn’t do this. I was the last person who should ever be a mom. Babies were fragile, and I was a ... a ... klutz. Forgetful. Undependable. I’d do something wrong, and I couldn’t do something wrong with a baby. Tears snatched at my eyes, bubbling up, and my lip trembled.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

His eyes grew soft. “Sure, you can. You have me, you know.”

“But it’ll hurt.”

“I’ll hold your hand.”

“I’ll make a mistake.”

He laid beside me and tucked me to him, my head at his neck. “So will I.”

“Nuh uh, because you’re perfect.”

He chuckled.

“I never measure up.”

He stroked his hand up and down my arm. “You’re exactly what I need,” he said. “Exactly what our ... our ...” He was the one choked up this time.

I craned my neck to see him. “Baby,” I said.

He nodded. “You’ll be great at it.”

I exhaled, my doubts clogging my head. It was going to take a lot of convincing to get me to believe that, but it wasn’t like I had a choice.

“You serious about not telling anyone?” he asked.

I bobbed my head. “Please? For now? I have to wrap my head around it first.”

We lay there silent, our bodies warming against each other. Then it hit me again.

“Since I’m already p—,” I began. “You think you can show me exactly what you did that got me this way?” Not like it was going to get any worse at this point. I might as well give in to his magnetism.

He gave a laugh. “I think I can manage that.”

Panic set in the next morning. I couldn’t decide if I really felt like I was gonna puke or if I wasn’t but thought I was because I knew I was p—

The word still wouldn’t come out.

In any case, I knelt over the toilet debating my situation and was interrupted by Roman sticking his head inside.

“I might puke,” I said.

This brought a strange expression to his face. “You aren’t sure?”

“Don’t p ...” I began.

“Pregnant.” He supplied the word.

“Don’t women like that puke?”

“I don’t think it’s a requirement. Maybe if you come back to bed and lie down, it’ll pass.”

I let him lead me to the bedroom and tuck me against him. A number of minutes passed.

“All better?” he asked.

I nodded. “Except I’m still p ...”

“Pregnant.”

This was gonna get really old if I couldn’t even say the word.

“You do know this’s not going to go away?” he asked.

I craned my head back to see his face. “I was hoping.”

He laughed lightly.

“How come you’re so calm?” I asked.

He didn’t act jittery or nervous about it at all, and all I could think of was nursing, and changing diapers, and labor pains. Okay, maybe not in that order, but you know, stuff a mom would have to do.

“I’m not really,” he said. “This is a mirage. But if I fall apart while you fall apart then there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces.”

This was true, and I was terrible at fixing things. I generally made them worse instead of better. Thinking of that made me nervous again, and my stomach did a flop. “I really am gonna puke,” I said.

My insides pushed into my throat and I sprinted for the toilet, and Roman, because he was the most awesome guy in the world, bent over and held me. Then he cleaned me up. His arm around my shoulders, he led me down the hall and tucked me back in bed.

“Having your baby is rough,” I said, “and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.” My eyes welled with tears and all my emotions hit me at once. I sobbed like there was no tomorrow.

Roman was clearly worried. “I’ll call Manuela,” he said. “She can sub for me today.”

I nodded, and he disappeared.

My eyes on the ceiling, I contemplated my future, the next nine months stretching out in front of me longer than an hour of government TV, and guilt stabbed at me. I mean, he had to deal with the thought of being a father and me falling apart. That wasn’t fair. The least I could do was face this.

I sucked in a breath and made myself say the word. “I’m preg ...” It stuck in my throat, so I tried again, raising my voice. “I’m pregn ...”

Closer.

“Maybe if I sit up,” I said to myself.

I unfolded my legs and pushed to an upright position, swinging them over the edge of the mattress. I mashed my hand to my waist and tried again.

“I’m pregnant.”

Roman entered the room right at that moment, and a smile rose on his face.

I looked up at him, my throat thick. “I’m pregnant. I’m ... I’m having a baby. Y-your baby.”

He walked to my side and seated himself. I leaned my head on his shoulder. What came out next was totally unplanned. “I want Spencer.” Spencer, my brother.

Roman’s eyes met mine, his brows drawn tight. “You do know he’s never had a baby?”

This struck me funny, and a giggle escaped. Of all the people to want to talk to, you’d think he’d be the last, except he wasn’t, and right then, I had to tell someone. “I know, but I want to tell him.”

Roman pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. “So call.”

My hands started to sweat, and the phone slipped in my grasp. I dried them one at a time on my pajama bottoms and somehow managed to dial. It rang one, twice, before he picked up.

“Roman?”

“It’s Coralee,” I whispered.

I don’t know why I was doing that except I had the biggest secret. I guess it was a mental thing.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked.

“On the other side of the bed. Look, not the point.”

I was wondering about this decision now. Spencer and I had always been close, but sometimes he was annoying.

“I ... I want to tell you something,” I said. “Maybe over the phone’s a bad idea though.”

“You want me to come to you? Wait ... why aren’t you at the shop? Why isn’t Roman at the shop? He’s there, right?”

I sighed. “He’s here. Can you come or not?”

“I guess. Should I bring something?”

I thought about that. Should he bring something? And it hit me. Cindy, his girlfriend. He should bring Cindy. She was a girl ... not a pregnant one, not even a mother, but a girl.

“Bring Cindy,” I said.

“Cindy?”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “She’s not at work, is she?”

“She doesn’t go in until noon,” he replied.

“Then bring her.”

He hung up, and I faced Roman. We were going to do this. We were going to be parents. Roman would be the best dad. Junior would have loving grandparents and great grandparents. A goofy uncle.

“I love you,” I said.

He kissed me, softly. “I love you, too.”

“Even though this is your fault.”

Coralee said it was his fault, and truth was, it felt like his fault. He knew they weren’t being very careful and had thought about “what if” something happened, so, now, for it to be a reality, hit him hard.

He was happy. How could he not be happy? He loved Coralee, and this child was part of her. She’d be a great mom. He could see her playing dress up, having tea parties, watching endless hours of toddler TV.

Convincing her of that was the issue.

She was full of life, goofy and lovingly awkward, but she was also incredibly insecure. From the start of their relationship, she’d doubted her place in his heart. She didn’t now, but he could already see that same doubt transferring itself into motherhood. That meant more pressure for him. He’d simply have to deal.

Roman exhaled.

Why Coralee wanted to tell Spencer, on the surface, seemed strange, but then again, it didn’t. She was testing herself, seeing if she could say it to someone outside of the pair of them, and her brother was the obvious choice. His positive response would build her self-esteem, and maybe, they could move on to the next step – telling their folks.

He held her until the doorbell rang, then left her there to change clothes and made his way to the front of the house. He tugged open the door and reversed, giving Spencer and Cindy space to enter. They walked past him into the living room and paused.

“So what’s up?” Spencer asked.

Roman smiled at him, hoping it looked joyful and not pained. “Coralee will be out in a minute, and I’ll let her tell you.”

Spencer nodded and the moment grew awkward.

He and Spencer had always gotten along. In fact, he’d been instrumental in setting up their wedding, something Coralee had known nothing about. But the presence of Cindy right then seemed to stand between them. She’d dated Spencer as long as he’d dated Coralee and yet neither one appeared close to marriage.

He’d wondered if that was because of her personality. She was his personal anti-type. Where he was inclined to be withdrawn and introverted, Cindy would rather be in the middle of a crowd at all times. Perhaps the idea of being a wife seemed limiting.

Roman glanced again at Spencer. Then again, Spencer could be the problem.

Coralee’s arrival dismissed his thoughts. She smoothed her curly hair, which promptly sprung back like it was.

“You look ... funny,” Spencer said.

Cindy stepped forward, mashing her hand to Coralee’s forehead. “Kinda green,” she said, agreeing.

Coralee gave a pained smile. “That’s why you’re here. I have to tell you something. I need to tell Mom and Dad, too, but I’m trying to get up my nerve. You see, I’ve only just begun to face it.”

“No,” Cindy gasped. “But you’re so young ...”

Coralee’s lips pursed and her gaze tightened. Spencer took her arm and led her around the couch. “Maybe you should sit down.”

She obeyed, and Roman took a place at her side. She reached for his hand, curling their fingers together. “Young people go through this all the time,” she said. “I’m not alone.”

“You’ve bonded with someone?” Cindy said. “That’s good. It’s terrible to go through anything feeling like it’s just you involved. Plus, now you have us.”

Coralee nodded. “That’s what I want. I need all the support I can get. When I think of how soon it’ll happen ...” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Soon? They don’t give you long?”

She looked at her brother. “The usual amount of time, then ‘pop’ it’ll all be over, and ...”

“Don’t be so glib,” Spencer said, his gaze darkening. “It isn’t like you. This is serious, and you need to face it.”

“I’m trying to face it,” she returned. “But I’m scared.”

“Oh, I hate this,” Cindy said. “And the pair of you newly married, now to go through something so devastating ...”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Devastating?” He and Coralee asked the question together.

Cindy stared at them both. “Yes, Coralee’s sick, and evidently it’s bad, since they only give her a few months to live.”

The misunderstanding hit Coralee at the same time it hit him, and they both began to laugh. However, soon Coralee’s giggles turned into sobs, and he was left holding her upright.

“You mean, you’re not dying?” Spencer asked.

“M-might ... as ... well beeeeeee.”

She was inconsolable at this point, and soon, Roman’s shirt was drenched. He pushed her backwards, gripping her cheeks in his hands. “Focus,” he said. “Tell them the truth.”

She sniffled, her damp cheeks sticking to his thumbs. “You do it,” she said.

He sighed, the action pulling painful from his chest. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.

Roman tucked Coralee back against his chest and faced him and Cindy. “She’s fine. She’s not dying. She’s pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” This time it was Spencer and Cindy who spoke at once.

“You’re going to have a baby?” Spencer asked, moments later.

Coralee nodded, the motion pulling his shirt out of place.

Spencer reclined, one hand curved over the arm of the couch. He opened and closed his mouth twice, then gave a short cough. “That’s ... awesome,” he said. “But knowing you it’ll be twins.”

CHAPTER 2

“Megan heard of this woman who didn’t know she was pregnant,” Cindy said. “She went camping with the baby’s father and had a stomachache. Next thing she knows, she’s sitting on the toilet and out it comes.”

My gaze spun wide. How was that possible? Wouldn’t you feel ... something ... for nine months?

“There was another one where this lady had a baby, but they discovered its twin embedded in its side,” Cindy continued. “Had teeth and a foot.”

“That’s terrible. Don’t talk about that,” Spencer said.

Yes, don’t. In fact, she could stop the war stories, but it seemed Cindy wasn’t finished yet.

“What about the Caucasian woman who had an African-American baby, yet they confirmed they were from her Caucasian husband?”

“You’re making that up.” Spencer frowned at her

But she tossed her head, sending her hair swirling around her face. “No. It was some kind of DNA throwback.” She faced me again. “Just think ... you and Roman could be standing there and ...”

Roman cleared his throat. “We ... we need to figure out what to do next.”

Cindy nodded, sharp. “Next is seeing the doctor. Well, maybe next is telling your parents. But you need to see the doctor, too, and I have a good one. He’s f-i-n-e, fine. I mean you’re there with your stuff hanging out, and he walks in. It’s like hel-lo.”

I was almost laughing then, more nervous laughter than anything else, but Spencer’s face, too, was priceless.

“Maybe ... maybe she can see someone old?” Roman asked.

That made me laugh more, which turned out to be a bad thing because I was back to puking. Racing away from the couch, I sprinted down the hall. Unfortunately, I missed the toilet, spattering my stomach contents, what was left of them, all over the hall carpet.

“Dear me,” Cindy said. “My aunt was sick the whole time ... nine months of nausea ...”

“Oooh,” I groaned. “Don’t tell me that.”

Seriously, don’t. I now doubted the wisdom of asking her to come. She might be female, but tact was evidently not her thing. On top of being scared half to death, I was now freaked out.

“Lori says she doesn’t even remember labor pains, so it can’t be that bad,” Cindy said. “Besides, you’ll have a little you running around, and that seems sweet.”

This was the first good thing she’d said, and it changed my thinking. Maybe if I focused on the end result and less on the process, I’d do better. I tried it really quick, but right then, the smell of the sour carpet was getting to me.

“Someone needs to clean that up,” Spencer said.

He would say that and not actually do it. Roman, on the other hand, was now nearing sainthood because he’d filled the mop bucket with water and rags.

“Aw, so sweet,” Cindy said. “He really loves you.”

I laughed to myself. I liked Cindy, but she was as useful as a heart monitor on a dead snake.

“He married me,” I said, “and I’m now carrying his baby, so, yeah, I think he does.”

This garnered me a strange look. I stretched out one hand. “Help me up.”

She did. I stood to my feet, leaving the toilet behind, and wandered toward Roman, who was slogging through my mess. “Leave it,” I said. “I’ll do it later.”

He glanced up. “It’ll stink later, so, no, I’ll finish.”

It was useless to argue. He liked things just so, something I’d known before we married, but had confirmed after. He would keep going until he was satisfied.

Point of argument. Our house was his grandpa’s old place, and it’d needed some updating when we moved in. Roman had taken it on, singlehandedly painting, repairing, recaulking, and refinishing at every spare moment until the place probably looked better than it did when his grandparents bought it years ago.

Spencer took my hand and hugged me to him. “I’m going to be an uncle,” he said. “Uncle Spence.”

I smiled. “No teaching him or her bad habits.”

“Oh, he’ll do that,” Cindy said. She hugged me from behind, making a Coralee sandwich. “He’s going to undo everything you try to teach the little bugger.”

I wriggled in place, seeking air, and it came to me to apply a little reverse pressure. “You know him so well. It’s like ... like you’re married,” I said.

Spencer’s grip on me tightened, not in a good way, but Cindy’s relaxed. She exhaled.

I somehow freed myself and looked at them both, turning my head from one to the other, and saw it on their faces. Something was up between them. They’d argued over this at some point. I wanted to ask, but it seemed like I’d be upsetting them. So decided to drop it and change the subject.

“I need to tell Mom and Dad,” I said. “I’m afraid.”

They both glanced back at me, relieved.

“I don’t know why,” Spencer said. “They’ll be over the moon. You should do it soon. Do it tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t know ...” I began. I had another thought. “And is it fair to tell them before Roman’s parents? They should know, too.”

“So we’ll get them all together at once. Invite both sides to eat somewhere.”

“That’s a good idea.”

This came from Roman, seated in the floor. I looked down at him, and my heart warmed. He looked disheveled and dirty, but perfect to me.

“You think so?” I asked.

He nodded, and I saw the plea in his eyes. I’d been pretty horrible all morning, not thinking of him much at all, and he’d only done the right things. He deserved to be happy about it. I decided to set aside my fears, right then, and take the next step.

I’d think about what was right in front of me, think about the baby and not all the stuff in between, and make it through this somehow. I, Coralee Pirtle Avery, was going to have a baby.

I mashed my hand to my waist. This was becoming real. I was going to be a mom, and Roman was going to be a dad. Somewhere deep inside me was a life we’d created together, and whether or not I was prepared, that was pretty grand.

I planted my feet at the restaurant entrance and balked harder than a donkey facing a mountain lion. What was I thinking? I couldn’t do this. Everyone would be looking at us, wondering why we’d asked them to be there, and I’d have to tell the truth. Well, Spencer and Cindy knew, of course. But the way things had gone so far, something was sure to goof up before I could say anything.

Roman wrapped his hands over my shoulders and shoved. “Come on. We’re in this together.”

I twisted my head up and over my shoulder to see him. “You say, ‘We’re pregnant,’ just one time, and I will remove your baby-making abilities.”

This made him laugh and me, too, and the mood lightened. I sighed and faced forward. “I guess it’s bad to walk away. By now, they’re all facing each other asking why they’re all here.”

Nothing was as awkward as having your family and inlaws in the same room. On the surface, they liked each other, but when they were together, the conversation became mostly about Roman and I, and that was ... strange.

“You’ll feel better once the truth is out,” Roman said.

“I suppose.”

He took my hand and led me through the door. The hostess smiled wide, showing straight, white teeth.

“The Avery table,” he said.

“Yes, sir. This way.”

We followed her into the seating area, weaving around the mesh of tables, to a private room in the back. That had been Roman’s idea. You’ll feel better without strangers around, he’d said. He was right, and I was grateful.

The hostess waved us in the door, and we faced the curious group. Spencer gave me a thumbs up, one arm around Cindy’s shoulders, and my dad stood to his feet.

“Sweetheart.”

I left Roman’s side and hugged my dad’s neck, then followed with my mom’s. Roman greeted his parents in a similar manner, and I waved at them while taking a seat. I wondered when would be the best time to tell them why they were there, but the waitress’s entrance delayed it.

“Welcome, everyone,” she said, in a chipper voice. “What would you like to drink?” She angled herself toward Mrs. Avery. “We’ll start with you, ma’am.” She took the order around the table, clockwise, from Mr. and Mrs. Avery, to Spencer and Cindy, and my mom and dad. She ended with Roman and me, then left the room.

The attention of everyone circled back to my face, and once again, I stalled. “Grandpa couldn’t come?” I asked.

Mrs. Avery smiled wide. “No, he wasn’t well today, and doesn’t like to go out late, anyhow. I know he’d like to see you, though.”

“I’ll have to get over there,” I replied.

That quick, the conversation stalled, and it became a room full of owls staring at a bright light. Roman cleared his throat. “Coralee and I ...” he began.

“Are thinking about the future.”

His brow wrinkled, along with that of everyone else.

“Ch-Christmas,” I stuttered.

“Christmas?” My mom repeated the word. “Whatever for? It’s six months away.”

“Well, th-that’s not so much, and I want to be prepared.”

“I totally agree,” Mrs. Avery said, nodding her head. “I buy all year round. Usually by November, I’m totally finished.”

“Totally finished?” Cindy asked. “I can’t imagine. I don’t even start until the week before.”

A duet of gasps whistled from either side of the table, one being Mrs. Avery’s the other my mom’s.

“My dear ...” my mom said. She stretched out one hand and laid it over Cindy’s. Which was odd with Spencer being between them. “I’ll be so glad to help you get started. Being prepared is something every woman must learn to sustain a relationship.”

Spencer’s brow drew tight.

“I’m prepared,” Cindy said. She’d picked up on my mom’s inference. “I’m not the issue. You might want to talk to him about that.” She jerked her chin toward Spencer.

My mom straightened, her hands falling into her lap. Spencer now looked like he’d eaten a toad.

“Son, is there a problem?” my dad asked.

At this point, I felt bad. I mean, we were there to announce something special, but instead, Spencer and Cindy were on the spot.

“I think ...” I began.

My dad talked over me. “There’s nothing as special as making a woman your wife, and Cindy is a fine woman.”

“I know how ‘fine’ she is,” Spencer replied. “But this is our problem to work out, not yours.”

“Why is there a problem at all?” my mom asked. “You both have a good job. Either one of you can move out of your apartment. You certainly have our support.”

“It isn’t about support,” he continued.

“Then what is it about?” My dad leaned forward over his plate.

The waitress’s return brought an uneasy silence. Oblivious to it, she made her way around the table, depositing everyone’s drinks, then flashed her smile to Mrs. Avery. “How about orders? Are we ready?”

I hoped by the time the order was taken the issue of Spencer and Cindy would die. I also felt that I owed him an apology for the trouble. It’d have to wait to later, though. No way was I bringing that back up and upsetting him again.

Last in line, I made my order, and the waitress left the room. I reached for Roman’s hand. He squeezed my fingers, and my courage rose. I could do this. I’d tell them our good news, and everyone would be happy for the remainder of the evening.

“As I was saying,” I began.

“Yes, where were we?” my dad asked.

My stomach shrunk to the size of a prune.

“If the problem isn’t money or location or support, then I can’t imagine what would stop you from marrying Cindy. You’ve been together far longer than your sister and her husband.”

I hated when he referred to Roman as my husband, as if he didn’t have a name.

“Dad, that’s really up to them. Don’t you think?” I asked.

My dad wasn’t hateful at all, more outgoing and stubborn. He often couldn’t hear any voice but his own, a fact my mom acknowledged in an indirect way.

I caught eyes with Spencer, and he smiled his thanks.

“Plus, the Averys are here,” I continued.

My dad flipped his head from left to right then gave a nod. A corporate exhalation followed, and my hope returned. Finally, to my news—

“No, they want to know, so he should tell them.”

Cindy. Arms crossed tight across her chest, her cheeks red, she snapped Spencer a look that would kill a rhinoceros, and he cringed. At that moment, I couldn’t imagine what the problem was. What would make Spencer so reluctant, and ... and afraid?

“I ... I ...” he stuttered.

My mom’s face changed to a look I recognized. Compassion. She was our mom, after all, and something had her eldest child incredibly upset. Her hand, previously extended to Cindy, now rose to his arm. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

“N-nothing. Please.” He was begging.

“It’s quite all right,” my dad said. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“No, we won’t.” Cindy stood to her feet. “I love him, and if he’d ask, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. But he won’t because of his little problem, and honestly, I don’t care. It doesn’t make him any less of a man in my eyes or me want to walk away.”

“Cindy, please.” Spencer reached for her.

She yanked away, in the motion, dragging him out of his chair. They faced each other, and I half expected to hear a sword clang.

“Later,” he said. “We’ll talk about it. I promise.”

“We’ve talked it to death already, and all you’ve managed to do is hide. Well, maybe this is the best way to get you to see the truth.”

“I see it,” he replied, “and if you don’t stop everyone else will see it, too.”

Their volume increased.

“That’d be perfect.” Her eyes sparked. “Then you could stop arguing with me about it.”

“Arguing?” He waved one arm wide. “Who’s arguing? My parents have dropped the subject, but you had to bring it back up.”

“That’s right! You and your stupid ...”

They were full-on shouting now, and I couldn’t take it anymore. This was my night, my moment. This was about me and Roman having a baby. They had no right to be afraid. I was the one afraid, and insecure, and ... I shoved to my feet.

“I’m pregnant.”

Roman tugged Coralee back into her chair and wrapped an arm around her. The room sat silent, his parents, her parents, her brother and his girlfriend, all staring back stunned.

“You ... you are?” Mrs. Pirtle asked.

Coralee was trembling, and he worried she’d start to cry again. But she didn’t. Instead, she nodded.

The room erupted then, and Spencer and Cindy’s problem was forgotten by everyone, including them. They endured a round of back pats, hugs, and way too many kisses on the cheek before enough order was restored they could relax.

Their food came then, and the meal progressed. Plates cleaned and everyone satisfied, the company reclined, happy smiles on their faces.

Spencer, surprisingly, was the one to speak. “I don’t have many swimmers.” He took Cindy’s hand and folded their fingers together. “Very few and so my chances of being a dad are nonexistent,” he added.

Coralee’s eyes welled, and the tears she’d held back earlier finally came. She curved her cheek to Roman’s chest, her gaze on her brother.

“How ... do you know?” Mrs. Pirtle asked.

Spencer bowed his head. “Doctor said so.”

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Pirtle asked why he’d been there or what had happened. It seemed like they’d learned their lesson about asking earlier.

Surprisingly, his own dad spoke next. “Nothing’s impossible with God,” he said. “Mrs. Avery and I had fertility problems. Took us ten years.” He kissed his mom’s cheek. “I love my son, but she would have loved me regardless.”

Spencer stared at them the shifted his gaze to Cindy. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I love you.”

She gave a soft smile. “I know. And it doesn’t matter to me. I’ve told you that. There’s plenty of children that need a home. We can adopt.” Cindy raised her gaze to Roman and Coralee. “Plus, you’re going to be an uncle.”

“About that,” Coralee said. “You’re going to give me the number of that doctor?”

Cindy nodded. “I’ll take you if you want. I could stand to take a look at him again.”

“You must be talking about Dr. Blanton,” Mrs. Pirtle said. “My, he’s a tasty treat.”

“Mom?”

Mrs. Pirtle glanced at Coralee. “I’m not blind, dear.”

“Did you say, Dr. Blanton? I love him,” Roman’s mom said. “He’s very gentle.”

Roman squirmed in his seat. Last thing he wanted to do was look the man in the eye who was going to eye his wife’s private parts. If only this conversation would end.

Spencer spoke, his gaze fixed his way. “Maybe we can do something manly,” he said. “Fishing. Laser Tag.”

“I can get us into paintball,” Mr. Pirtle said.

Mrs. Pirtle shot him a questioning look.

“We used it at the office for team building,” he continued. “I found it stimulating.”

Spencer switched his gaze to Roman’s dad. “Mr. Avery, you’re invited.”

“Sounds like fun,” his dad said. “Count me in.”

“Paintball it is then,” Mr. Pirtle said. “Can’t wait to teach my grandson.”

“Daughter.” Mrs. Pirtle nodded, sharp. “It’s a girl. I feel it in my bones.”

“You can’t possibly feel that ...” he replied. The conversation spun around the table then, happy voices talking overtop one another.

And Roman smiled to himself.

CHAPTER 3

The waiting area was full of all different types of women, from a young, heavily-pregnant girl, who if she was sixteen I’d have been surprised, to a lady in her nineties. Straight ahead, the counter swarmed with nurses and a receptionist who looked like she’d eaten yesterday’s lunch and now had a stomachache.

“What?” she asked.

I blinked. Who greeted people that way? “I ... have ... an appointment?”

She tapped on her computer keys, her eyes on the screen. “You the new girl?”

“I guess?” Everything I said emerged as a question.

Reaching to her left, she snagged a clipboard and slung it across the counter. “Fill that out and the nurse will take it when she comes for you.”

I gripped the clipboard and revolved, then took a seat between Cindy and my mom. My mom promptly took over the forms. It was your standard stuff, who had what in your genetics, and she loved detailing that kinda stuff. That left me to talk to Cindy.

“Just wait ’til you see him,” she said. “He’s a whole lotta icing on the end of a spatula, and you’re the cake. You’ll be like ‘spread me.’”

My eyes widened. I didn’t think her behavior appropriate, but she was helping me not think about this. No girl wants to go to the gynecologist. We pretty much walk around pretending we have no private parts until they need to be attended. Guys are different. They refer to everything by the size of their manhood. “Big as ... cold as ...” Etcetera.

“I wonder if I should put down your grandfather’s spell with shingles,” my mom said in my ear.

My dad’s dad, she meant. “I’m not here for shingles,” I replied. “I can’t see how that applies.”

She bobbed her head.

The pregnant girl smiled my direction. One hand over her belly, she rubbed her palm back and forth, and my thoughts shifted. That’d be me in a few months. I’d look like that. Inadvertently, my hand strayed to my waistline, and I copied her motions.

“Last time, I was here,” Cindy said. “I almost ... almost found out where he lives.”

I glanced in her direction. “What in the world did you need to know that for? You going to stalk him?”

She grinned.

My thoughts changed again, to yesterday’s argument. Spencer not being around, I felt it okay to ask her about it. I cleared my throat. “You really okay with Spencer’s ... problem?”

My mom’s head rose. She wanted to know, too.

Cindy, as was like her, answered forthright without blinking. “Of course. I mean, I’d like to have his children, but if he can’t, he can’t. It doesn’t change how I feel. I’ve already got my dress picked out, my reception designed. I asked about getting out of my lease. All I need is him to ask me.”

She sounded wistful then. I wasn’t given much time to contemplate it, however, because the nurse called my name.

“Coralee Avery?”

I stood, prepared to walk down the hall of doom alone, only to find my mom and Cindy on my heels. Part of me was glad. The other part felt weird. In the end, I said nothing, and we tromped after the nurse.

She waved us into an examination room. “The doctor will be with you in a minute.” She stretched out her hand for the clipboard, which my mom relinquished, then closed the door, sealing us together.

Cindy plopped into a chair. “This is awesome. I love coming here.”

Odd. She would, I thought.

“It’s not that pleasant,” my mom said. “Although I agree, the doctor is good at his job.”

We hadn’t been talking about that, but hey.

Cindy reclined in her chair. “The hands of a surgeon, so smooth and flexible.” She sighed.

“He does have a gentle touch,” my mom said.

Slightly creeped out, I tried to switch the subject. “Did they really go to play paintball?”

My mom nodded. “Your father was beside himself, he was so excited. I swear he was a five-year-old.”

“Spencer, too,” Cindy said. “What is it about shooting one another that makes them like that? It’s like the violence turns on the testosterone.”

I couldn’t recall Roman acting that way that morning. But then, he’d been all about if I was okay, if I was sure I wanted to go today. Did I really not need him to go with me? He’d only relaxed when I’d said no, I’d be fine with my mom and Cindy.

The door to the room opened and a nurse came in. She turned around at a small counter on the far side without speaking and removed a plastic cup with a screw-on lid. She presented it to me in her palm. “There’s a bathroom in there.” She jerked her head toward a door. “Fill this and place it in the tray beside the sink. Then put on the gown at the end of the table.”

My hands started to shake, and it took all I could do to take the container from her. The second I did, she left. I captured the gown in one hand, rotated in place, and stared at the door. Pulling in a breath, I tromped across the room. My business didn’t take that long, though undressing was awkward, and soon, I was back, seated on the exam table. That must have run some little bell because the door to the room opened again, the nurse returning.

She proceeded to take my temperature and blood pressure, writing it on a chart, then gave her first hint of a smile. “We’re running the test, then the doctor will be in to see you.”

Cindy clapped her hands in glee, and the nurse flicked her a glance before, once again, leaving the room. I settled back, my nervousness climbing. I’d done pretty well so far. I’d only puked once that morning, then held myself together all the way here. I’d felt confident I could get through this and maintain some calm. But now, thinking of the doctor confirming my pregnancy, though I was confident it was true, seemed a bit like a nail in the coffin.

That was a bad way to put it, I suppose. I wanted to be a mom, had thought a lot about babies since finding out, but still, I think, lived under the fantasy this wasn’t entirely real. Only, the doctor talking about it would make it so. I’d have responsibilities from here on out. I couldn’t just pick up and do whatever I wanted, say anything that popped into my head, because someone Roman and I had created would be watching. He or she would hear every word that came out of our mouths and imitate it.

I shivered and, in response, rubbed one hand up and down my arm.

Roman. My baby could imitate Roman. That’d be okay. Hadn’t I always tried to do the same? But he or she could not imitate me. That was a sure path to disaster. I’d only turned out okay because I had so many hands to guide me – my parents, my brother, in an odd way, and then Roman.

I gulped. If my baby was like me, wouldn’t he or she have the same group of people to emulate? That would make it all right. Despite my inefficiencies, there’d be all those wonderful people to help it grow. I slid off the table and reached for my mom’s hand.

She tugged me into her lap. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “I know you’re scared, but have a little faith in yourself. The first time at anything is a learning experience. When I had Spencer, I just knew I’d drop him on his head or something.”

“Don’t tell me that,” I said.

She chuckled and patted my sleeve. “The point is I didn’t, and you won’t either. You have lots of love to give and a man who will be right by your side.”

My eyes filled. “I wish he was here.”

She squeezed me tight, and at that moment, the door to the room opened.

“Good morning. Coralee, right?”

Dear Lord in heaven, I said to myself right then. I love Roman Avery. Honestly, I do. And he’s an attractive man, else I wouldn’t be pregnant and in this office. But when you created Dr. Blanton, you broke the mold.

“The test is positive,” he said. “My congratulations.”

My mouth open, I nodded. I think drool slipped off my lips.

“If you’ll lie down on the table,” he said, “we’ll check you out.”

I closed my mouth and stood to my feet. This was my appointment. Dr. Blanton was here to see me. And he was ... and I could ... I stepped over to the table, confident. This wasn’t so bad after all.

“Okay,” I said.

Roman ducked behind a wall, his paintball gun aimed toward the shadowy figure of his dad across the room. He fired several times then ducked.

Spencer, crouching a few feet away, did the same. “So tell the truth,” he said. “You nervous about Coralee?”

The answer to that was a resounding yes, but he didn’t say so right off, instead asking a question. “How’d you find out about your lack of ... you know?”

Spencer made a face. “Explaining that is a can of worms, which I’d rather no one but me and Cindy knew. I’ll tell you, though, if you’ll keep it a secret.”

Roman nodded. Who would he tell? Besides maybe Coralee, and she’d keep it to herself. He raised his gun back up and fired at his dad, who returned the gesture.

“I was a broke college student,” Spencer began, “and found a way to make money ... you know ... at a ... uhm ... bank?”

Roman’s gaze widened. “You’re kidding?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. In my mind, doing that was less embarrassing than asking my parents for cash. Plus, a couple other guys were also going there. But then, the nurse said I had a problem, so I went to see a doctor. Telling Cindy only came about because she kept insisting about a proposal.”

“Did you really think she’d refuse over that?”

Spencer sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe it was more she deserved better.”

“They always deserve better,” Roman said. “Coralee has me built into some ... hero ... in her mind, when all I see are how insufficient I am. And now, with her pregnant ...”

“You can’t keep hiding back there,” his dad called.

Roman rose up and fired again, then scooted to the right and fired again. His shot sailed across the space and smacked his dad right in the facemask. “Bullseye!” he yelled.

Spencer strolled over. “Good shot. Hey ... what you were saying ...”

Roman glanced toward him.

“You’ll be fine,” Spencer said. “She’s pretty right about you. I know you can’t see that, but I’ve learned women aren’t dumb, and women in love should be listened to.”

Roman switched his gaze toward his dad, now sitting on his haunches. He walked to his side. “You okay?”

His dad nodded. “This was fun, but I think I’m finished. I could stand some food.”

“Me, too,” Mr. Pirtle said. “Let’s go to the sports bar on Fourth Street.”

“The one mom won’t let you visit?” Spencer asked.

Mr. Pirtle seemed to quiver, then he puffed out his chest. “I’ve seen women in short skirts before. I’m only going there for the wings.”

This made all of them laugh, himself included.

“We could, of course, keep it a secret,” he added.

“Of course,” Spencer replied. “But they’ll find out anyway.”

“Probably,” Mr. Avery said. “I can’t go there either, so I’m in.”

Roman chuckled beneath his breath, and they all headed for the edge of the room. He removed his helmet, grateful for the wash of air blowing over his sweat-soaked head, and fell in at Spencer’s side.

“You asked if I was nervous,” he said.

Spencer turned his gaze toward him.

“Yeah. But we’ll be all right. She’s way tougher than she thinks she is. I’m actually the one who’s soft.”

Spencer draped an arm across his shoulders. “Aren’t we all?”

“Then Cindy asked Dr. Blanton if he ever ran into women in public and had a hard time not thinking about their private parts.”

Roman choked, spraying his drink across the kitchen table. He reached for a napkin and mopped up the mess. “She asked that?”

Coralee nodded. “He said, ‘Sometimes.’ That he once ran into this woman who’d had a particularly nasty infection, and she was flirting with him when ...”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” He was serious. How any man could choose that for a profession was mind-boggling. He couldn’t stomach it.

Coralee silenced, mashing one hand over her mouth. “Don’t,” she said, her voice muffled. “If you do, then I will.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” he said. “The visit was okay?”

She held her hand in place for a moment, then nodded and dropped it to her lap. “Yes. He took a pregnancy test to confirm it was positive, then did a checkup ...”

She silenced. Her face said a lot she hadn’t, and he was grateful that she hadn’t.

“He wrote me out a schedule for when to come in and sent all those brochures you saw on the counter. I have to eat better, get some exercise, and, most importantly, be positive. Negativity will affect the baby. Oh ... and we’re supposed to show up for some ... movie thing.”

“A movie?” His glass halfway to his mouth, Roman gazed at her.

“Yeah, it explains pregnancy, the stages of the baby’s growth, then all about labor and delivery and breathing.” She sounded chipper, for once.

However, Roman squirmed in his seat, shifting his weight one direction then the other.

Coralee’s brows knit. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Yes. He couldn’t watch that. That was ... was ... too much. Roman twisted in place yet more.

“You act like something’s wrong,” she persisted.

He cleared his throat. “I’m f-fine, really.”

Her expression became even tighter. “You stuttered,” she said. “You only do that when you’re trying not to answer me.” She clenched her fist on the table. “You don’t want to go. Do you?”

Heat raced up his cheeks, and he rubbed his knuckles across them, hoping she wouldn’t notice. She did, but he denied it. “Of course, I do. Whatever you need.”

“No. You don’t want to go.” Her volume rose. “Your own child, and you don’t want to be there. Dr. Blanton’s visit I understand. I missed you, but knew it was better to be with my mom and Cindy. Of course, later there’s the ultrasound, and I figured you’d want to see the baby.”

Roman stretched out his arm around her in an attempt at comfort, but she shrugged him off.

“You probably don’t want to do that either,” she said. “Just like a man ... wants to have fun making the baby, but none of the responsibilities.” Her voice grew yet more intense.

“Coralee, don’t get so upset. You’re overreacting.”

She thrust to her feet and started to pace. “I’m not overreacting. All this time we’ve been married, and I thought you perfect. But here it is ... your one flaw.” She waved one hand wide. “Roman Avery can’t stand the sight of women’s reproduction.”

“N-no, it’s not that ... I ...”

Her eyes distended. “Oh, I get it. It’s, ‘Hey, baby, come here,’ but when I need you, ‘No, thanks.’ We’re supposed to do this together. Haven’t you watched it in movies? The husband and wife attend classes together looking forward to their bundle of joy?”

“I am looking forward to the baby,” he argued. “I just don’t need how it happens described to me.”

She stomped her foot. “Why?”

One question, stated flatly, her eyes boring into his. He opened and closed his mouth.

“Well?”

“W-well what?”

“Why don’t you?”

Uncomfortable, Roman rubbed two fingers down his throat. Maybe he should tell the truth. That had worked well so far. Once Coralee told her family, she acted considerably lighter. He focused his thoughts, determined to say ... something. “It’s ... creepy?”

That was the wrong something.

“Creepy? I’m creepy? I’m creee ... creeeepyyyyyy ....” Coralee erupted in a wail that he imagined the neighbors could hear. Her eyes screwed shut, mouth open, she threw her head back and howled.

He stood to his feet and reached for her. “Not you ... you’re not creepy. You’re beautiful.”

“But ... the ... baby is ... creeeeeepyyyyy .....” She choked out the sentence then her face turned purple and her eyes distended.

“The sink! The sink!” he said.

Spinning around, she spattered her stomach contents all over the kitchen floor, then continued crying.

He sighed, his gaze on the mess. Their first big argument, and he deserved every bit of it. He’d just fed into her uncertain thinking. Now, she probably didn’t believe she could manage at all.

“Coralee,” he began. “I know you can do this.”

She glared at him. “You’re right.” Her tone was crisp. “I can do this. You, on the other hand, are a nincompoop.” She pointed at the mess. “Clean that up.”

He sagged. After how he’d behaved, he had no choice.

But she wasn’t through. “The baby and I are going to take a long bath and lay down,” she said. “I think you’ll find the couch perfectly comfortable.” With that, she stomped from the room.

Roman slid into a chair, his head hung. Suddenly, tomorrow was a long, long way away.

CHAPTER 4

I leaned against the bathroom doorway and stared at the digital clock. Two a.m. and I was lonely. Having pouted all evening, I’d gone to bed alone, my regret growing stronger with every hour that passed. But ’til now, my pride outweighed it, and that’d given me the strength to ignore my need to apologize.

However—

I gripped my stomach with one hand. Now, my pride was completely sapped. I wanted Roman back in the worst way.

We’d never fought about anything that I could recall. For that matter, I’d never been as angry and unreasonable as I was last night. Despite telling myself over and over again that he had flaws, when I found a major one, I’d blown it out of proportion.

So he had a problem with the whole women’s reproductive organ thing. Was that really so bad? In the light of my last hour puking, not so much.

I faced the bedroom door, willing myself to go out there and, after several minutes passed, made my way into the hall. Running my fingers down the wall, I traced my path in the dark into the living room and there, flipped on a lamp.

Roman grunted and rolled over, turning his face upwards. He blinked sleepily. “You okay?” he asked.

“No.”

His vision cleared more, and he pulled himself to a sitting position. “What’s wrong?”

My hands hung at my sides. I wiggled my fingers. Why were these two words so difficult to say? Marriage was about compromise. I didn’t always like what Roman said or chose to do, and I’m sure he felt the same way about me. We’d compromised plenty in our short time together. I had to accept this argument required the same give and take, and it was my turn to give tonight.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I need you.”

He pushed to his feet and embraced me. I have to admit that was the best feeling, having him back where he belonged. After all, you can’t unbake a pie. What we had was forever. I’d meant those vows, and no matter what ups and downs happened in our future, it was me and him going through it together. We’d made this baby. It was half of him today, and twenty years from now would still be half of him.

“I’m sorry I said it was creepy,” he replied.

I pulled my head back and gazed at him. “You have issues you need to work through.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“I’ll help you,” I said, “and the first step is watching the movie.”

He physically shuddered, and it came over me ... this warm motherly feeling. I reached out one arm and patted his back. “There, there,” I said. I was crooning. “It can’t be that bad.”

He sighed, and I took his hand. “Come to bed. I’ll let you sleep on the right side.”

His interest peaked. “Really? But you love that side.”

I nodded. True. I hated sleeping on his left.

“For one night,” I said. Tomorrow I’d reclaim it, but right then, I’d have slept about anywhere to have him beside me.

He tripped along behind, one hand smacking the wall. “Of course,” he said.

The room Roman and I entered was full of pregnant women in all stages. I wasn’t the only one not showing, and the others seemed as uncomfortable with that as I was.

Pregnant women bond together, but still, there’s a pecking order, with those in the later stages being at the top. They’d done the time and reached the honorable level of “most miserable” that we all aimed for. Being as I was only miserable where food was concerned, me and the others in the first trimester were at the bottom of the heap.

“How far along are you?” asked a girl at my right elbow.

Roman was being brave. We’d talked about this night long and hard, and to his credit, he’d done well so far. But I saw the girl’s question affect him. I tempered my response as a result.

“Six weeks.”

“Me too,” she said. “Six weeks, two days, and two hours.”

I eyed her. Hours? I wanted to ask how she knew that. But a woman further along in her pregnancy than anyone else entered, and we were both distracted. By her side was a teenage girl, who favored her so much I knew it had to be her daughter.

My new friend leaned toward me. “What do you think their story is?”

The woman who’d entered sort of rolled to a seat, expelling a grunt on the way down, and her daughter sat at her side, taking her hand.

“How far along are you?” asked someone near her.

That was definitely the question of the hour.

“Due any day,” she said.

At that moment, a figurative light descended from heaven and a chorus of angels sang. She was now the queen of the group.

“Never thought I’d do this again,” she continued. “My daughter’s nineteen, and I had to go and get pregnant.”

Nineteen? Every eye in the place was on her now, including Roman who was kinda green.

The entrance of a woman in a slick pants suit interrupted the moment. She swept in and clapped her hands. “Welcome. This is an exciting time in your life, and tonight, a step into the future.” She held up a paper in her hand and made a model-like gesture. “You were given some information on your way in the door. You’ll want to read it carefully, perhaps pin it to your refrigerator, somewhere you can find it. It has all the preparation tips you’ll need for the big moment, including phone numbers for Dr. Blanton’s office and those of several local hospitals.”

She switched papers, flourishing a professionally printed brochure, complete with a happy, smiling pregnant woman on the cover. “This information, along with tonight’s movie, will tell you what’s going on inside.”

Roman squirmed. I took his hand in mine and squeezed.

“Pay particular attention to the end of the movie. Afterward, we’ll discuss breathing techniques. These are very important to keep you focused when labor begins.” She made another smooth wave of her arm towards a screen on the far wall and glanced over her shoulder. “With that, let’s begin ....”

The lights went out and a rustle crisscrossed the room, women adjusting their view. Then a film dated, I believe, nineteen eight-two began.

“So you’re pregnant ...” began a deep male voice. “Congratulations.”

The scene showed a girl, a few years older than me, smiling at her spouse.

“You’ve made a baby,” the voice continued, “but did you know what really happened ...?”

An animated diagram popped onto the screen, and Roman wiggled in place, again.

I leaned into his ear. “It’ll be okay. Shut your eyes if you have to.”

He took my advice.

The animation changed to a side view of a woman’s uterus. “There are three trimesters,” said the deep voice. “You might be in only the first trimester. What a long way you have to go ...”

This didn’t help Roman any. I glanced his way. He still had his eyes closed, but he looked really odd.

“Your body has to change to accommodate this new life,” the narration continued. “The second trimester begins at fourteen weeks and continues until twenty-five weeks. This is an exciting time. You’ll feel the first signs of life of your little one.”

That seemed happy.

The animation switched to the girl from earlier rubbing her belly. She leaped in place and her husband laid his palm over hers. I could picture that. Me and Roman feeling the baby kick.

This time when I looked at him, he was peeking. I guess that made him think. Feeling positive, I smiled.

“The third trimester is the most physically trying time for a woman. It’s important to get as much rest as possible,” said the narrator. “You will gain about a pound a week.”

I gulped.

“You may experience ‘false labor.’ You should heed any signs and contact your doctor immediately.”

Though the room was dark, Roman looked pale to me. I leaned over to tell him to close his eyes, but at that moment, the movie changed. Suddenly, we’re in a bedroom, and a woman, butt-naked, hunched over her legs and screamed. Running back and forth at the end of the bed were two little girls ages four and five.

“I can see it,” said one.

“Me, too,” said the other.

The woman screamed again and the camera panned across her belly to her face. Beads of sweat stood out on her brow, sliding down her temples.

I heard Roman gag and turned my head. He had one hand over his mouth.

The woman’s husband in the movie began cheering her on. “Go. Go. Go. Go.”

The little girls joined in. “Go, mommy, go.”

Right then, the heavily pregnant woman gave a sort of heaving sound. “Think mine’s starting,” she said.

The movie kept rolling, but the lights came on. Sure enough, her face red, she groaned.

Roman thrust to his feet, and I saw it on his face. If I didn’t do something, he was going to panic and run. So taking his hand, we made our way outside. We didn’t speak on the way to the car, and even seated inside, just sat there, our heads back on the seat. I cleared my throat. “That was ... bad.”

He barely nodded, a weak gesture. “I’m sorry it makes me feel sick. But I think of you going through all that and I feel guilty for doing this to you.”

A light came on in my head, right then, and the weight of his behavior lifted off my shoulders. So that’s what all of this was about. But that type of thinking was exactly why I’d married him. Because he thought about me above anything else, and guys like that, I’d found out were rare.

At the same time, he was missing something very important, something he hadn’t seen that would help him. I took his hand in mine. “This baby isn’t a mistake you should feel guilty about,” I said. “Maybe we didn’t plan it, but I know we loved each other; and there’s no guilt there. You taught me that.”

His face changed, and I could see he was thinking. He raised my fingers to his lips. “Let’s go home,” he said. “I’d like to show you just how much I love you.”

Heat washed over me, and all I could do was nod.

Nothing fit. I tried one shirt after another, finally settling on this green tank top that I could kinda stretch over my new curve. Disgusted, I made my way into the kitchen and faced Roman. As soon as I stopped moving, the shirt crept up again and my belly button popped out.

“Do you see this?” I asked, frustration in my voice. “Do you really see it?”

His eyebrows knit together. “Your belly?”

“Yes. I promised your Grandpa I’d come see him today, but I can’t even cover myself.”

“So wear a sweater,” he said.

A sweater? Really? “It’s ninety-five degrees outside!”

Roman set down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe you should go shopping. You knew this day was coming.”

Shopping. I latched onto his idea. I could go shopping, buy new clothes ... and baby things. Which reminded me.

“I want to make your old room into the nursery,” I said.

Roman loved a project, and I figured this was a good one. I’d even decided to let him choose some of the decorations, sort of a reward for being good to me.

“It needs painting,” I continued. “Whatever color you like, though maybe more neutral. We don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, after all.”

I didn’t bring up the ultrasound. The doctor said they’d do one in a couple weeks, and I was excited about that. But to bring it up to Roman was courting disaster. We’d be back to the women’s organs thing, and we’d fought that battle already.

“Your mom and mine are convinced it’s a girl,” he replied.

They were and, secretly, so was I.

“Why don’t you see if Spencer wants to help?” I asked. “Then I could ask Cindy to go with me.”

He nodded. “Good idea.”

I wandered back down the hall, stepping over the sea of clothing I’d left in the floor, and dialed Cindy.

She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, little mama, how’s things?”

I smiled. She had that effect on me. Then my reason for calling returned. “I’m fat.”

“Aw, now ... That’s natural beauty. But I take it you mean your clothes don’t fit?”

I looked down at my tank top. “Nothing. You free? I could use some help.”

“Free as a bird,” she said. “I’ll be over in thirty. That okay?”

Thirty minutes later, she rang the doorbell and stepped inside. Her hand came down to my belly. “Mommy’s shirt doesn’t fit.”

Mommy. That hit me in the gut and worked its way into my throat. I was going to be a mommy. No one had called me that before, and strange, but I really liked it.

“No crying,” she said, wrapping one arm around me. “This is a good day. We’re going to shop, eat, and have fun.”

Roman came around the corner, halting a few feet off.

“I promise to take care of her,” she said.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I know. I think Spencer and I are going to clean out the bedroom.”

She continued to smile, but it seemed strained. I knew my brother hadn’t proposed yet. Everyone had thought he would after he admitted about his problem. I decided to ask Cindy about it after we left, and meanwhile, crossed to Roman and kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” I said. “We’ll be back later.”

He nodded. “Have fun.”

Cindy and I climbed in her small, red compact, and immediately upon cranking, loud pop music blared from the speakers. She adjusted the volume and pulled away from the curb.

I didn’t speak right away. A debate raged in my head how exactly to bring up my brother’s lack of a proposal. I finally decided just to say it. But my mouth open, she beat me to it.

“I’m glad you called,” she said, “because Spencer is driving me nuts.”

“He ... has that affect,” I said, unsure what else to say.

She laughed, nervous sounding, and tightened her grip on the wheel. “It’s probably my fault ... that he hasn’t asked. I pushed him too much, and ...” She blew out a breath. “And I, uhm, showed him the goods.”

This surprised me. One, because she was telling me that. Two, because she’d done that.

“I thought it’d encourage him, but instead, he got mad.”

He would. Spencer had ideals, these perfect images of the direction he thought his life should go, and any stray from that path always threw him for a loop. He didn’t like change. He used to fight over even driving me places when he had his day already planned out.

“He got mad. I got mad,” she said. “We both yelled ... a lot. Now, we’re not really speaking.”

The car fell silent. Cindy turned down the main shopping boulevard and angled for a parking spot on the curb. “There’s a maternity shop a few doors down,” she said, opening her door. “We’ll get you all dressed up.”

I nodded and exited the car, but her conversation about Spencer continued to bug me. Maybe everyone had pressured them too much. What did it matter if they dated four years or six years or ten, as long as they were happy?

My thoughts built in me with each step until we reached the door to the shop, and there, I pulled up short.

She turned around, one hand on the handle. “You okay?”

“Not really,” I said. I tugged at the edges of my shirt, pulling it back over my growing belly. “I’m having a baby and want her to have an Aunt Cindy and Uncle Spencer.”

Her eyes grew soft. She released the handle and, glancing down the sidewalk, steered me to a public bench. The wooden slats were warm from the persistent glare of the sun.

“We’ll work it out,” she said. “Your brother is ...”

“Stubborn,” I finished for her.

She nodded. “But kind and faithful and a lot of other good things. He just needs more time, and I can either accept that or lose him. And that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“I can talk to him,” I said.

She didn’t respond to that right away, and I watched the other pedestrians stroll by, then moved my gaze to her face.

“Just be his sister, Coralee,” she said, at last. “He needs that the most. You and Roman and this baby make him so incredibly happy.” She sat forward, mashing her hands to her knees, and it became clear the subject was dropped. “I have an idea,” she said. “There’s a t-shirt store just down the way. I say we ...”

She whispered her idea into my head and a light bulb went off.

“I love it,” I said. “Let’s do that first.”

With that, we hopped up and made our way down the sidewalk.

Spencer had paint on his nose, a buttery yellow color, and more on his cheek. But all I wanted to do right then was hug him, so I did. I dropped my bags at my feet and tossed my arms around his waist. He stood there, his hands aloft for quite some time, before lowering them around me.

“Your day went good?” he asked.

I nodded, scrubbing my cheek on his shirt. “We went by to see Grandpa Avery after. He kept calling me Sue.” Sue, his wife, Roman’s grandma. “And it came to me ...” I pulled my head back and looked for Roman. I probably should run it by him first, but since I’d already begun telling Spencer, felt obligated to finish. “I want to name the baby Sue, if it’s a girl.” I raised my eyes to Spencer’s.

“I bet your husband will like that,” he said.

I nodded, then, though I’d promised Cindy I wouldn’t bring it up, felt obligated to say something. “Spence, you and Cindy ...”

He frowned. “Did she talk to you?”

About anything personal. I knew what he was asking. I could also see it mattered to him, so I considered my answer. “Yes and no,” I said, “and I just want to say I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows drew together. “For what?”

“Making you feel obligated to be anything other than yourself. What you choose to do with your life is between you and Cindy and no one else. I think she knows that. I also think she’s prepared to wait however long it takes.”

He chewed on his cheek, a gesture I’d seen him do when he was thinking. He nodded, and I stepped back.

“Now, I want to see what damage you’ve done.”

“Damage I’ve done?” he asked, with a laugh. “You know, as brilliant as your man is, he’s a lousy painter.”

“I heard that.”

Roman’s voice came from down the hall, and suddenly, I wanted to see him terribly bad. I sprinted away and whipped around the corner to find him standing against the far wall. There wasn’t much to see – a lot of yellow paint, a bit of white trim. He, too, had it speckled on his face.

I screeched to a halt in front of him and smiled. “Hi.”

He lowered his roller into the paint tray. “Hey. How was it?”

I stepped close, my head tilted back. “I bought you something.”

He paused, curving one hand over his hip. “Oh?”

I nodded and smiled. Cindy rounded the corner, a t-shirt pasted to her chest. In the center, were they words, “The baby’s aunt.” She reached in a bag at her feet. She pulled one out and handed it to Spencer.

They exchanged a glance, then he shook it out. A laugh left his lips. “The baby’s uncle,” he read.

“We have one for everybody,” I said. I walked over to the bag and dug around, producing a blue t-shirt. I toted it to Roman. Wadding up the bottom, I draped it over his head.

He shoved his arms through the sleeves. “It’s perfect,” he said. “The baby’s dad” was written across the middle. “But what do you get to wear?”

I returned to the bag and pulled out an enormous maternity shirt. A giant arrow curved over my belly, its point ending right on the crest. “The baby” it said beneath the point.

Roman and Spencer laughed.

“I was thinking we need a family pic,” I said. “And I want to hang it right here.” I gestured to a spot on the wall. “So Sue can see all her family.”

His face changed. “Sue?”

I pressed close to him. “After your grandma.”

“And if it’s a boy?” he asked, quietly.

“Hey, we’re gonna go,” Spencer said.

I glanced behind and my gaze was drawn to their joined hands. It’d be all right. Like Cindy said, they’d work it out.

“Bye, and thanks,” I replied.

Cindy waved with her free hand, and they left. I turned my face back toward Roman. “I haven’t decided about a boy’s name,” I continued. “Because it’s definitely a girl.”

CHAPTER 5

Roman forced his feet forward, determined to wear a brave face. He was excited about being a dad. But somehow, his thoughts about Coralee’s pregnancy always returned to his issue with ob-gyns and women’s body parts. Today was particularly important. They’d find out if the baby was a boy or a girl, but doing that meant going where no man ought to go. At least, in his mind.

Therefore, he decided to fake his enthusiasm. He pasted a smile on his face, kept his voice light and happy, and, he hoped, a spring in his step. Only, the closer to the door they walked, the heavier his feet became, and in the lobby, he felt more like a caged animal than a father-to-be.

Coralee grasped his hand, her gaze falling downward, and he gave her a pained smile. His palm was sweaty, a sure sign of the state of his nerves. “I’m trying,” he said.

She stared at him for a moment.

It was hard to tell if she was upset or not, but anymore, her emotions resembled a rollercoaster. One minute, she was happy, the next, angry or sad. He’d learned to speak little and always agree with whatever she was saying. He was grateful that at least she wasn’t throwing up anymore.

A television on the wall played the local news on mute, the captions scrolling across the screen, and Roman set his mind on them instead of what else went through his head. He leaped in place at Coralee’s name.

“Coralee Avery?”

Coralee, still holding his hand, pulled him to his feet, and everything he’d tried to overcome returned. His chest compressed, his heartbeat skipped. He took a deep breath. He could do this. He could do this. He repeated the encouragement in his brain, stumbling along after her, and entered the small examination room at her side.

The nurse smiled and nodded. “The doctor will be right with you.”

Roman’s mind diverted then, to the doctor, the man who looked at his wife’s body parts. No. No, he wouldn’t go there. An educated man who took care of the baby. His baby.

He strayed a hand to Coralee’s belly, something he’d taken to doing a lot lately, and remembered the goal. This was about the baby, not him. The baby was what was most important. He was here to find out if he had a son or a daughter on the way, and that was special.

Roman smiled at Coralee, what he hoped looked encouraging, and tightened his grip on her fingers. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, before the door opened. Plenty of time to change his mind.

“Good morning, Coralee,” the doctor said.

“Good morning, Dr. Blanton.”

“I see you’ve brought in your husband. Welcome.” He extended his hand toward Roman.

But all Roman could picture was that hand doing other things ... that hand on this very young doctor doing things with his wife. His stomach lurched.

“I ... Thanks,” Roman mumbled, not accepting.

The doctor’s brow wrinkled, and he lowered his arm.

Coralee gave a slight cough. “We’re both excited to find out,” she said.

The doctor’s smile returned. “I can imagine. This is pretty special. The nurse will be in shortly, and we’ll get started. If I can get you to lay flat on the table and lift your shirt the ultrasound tech will be right in. When he’s finished, we’ll have a chat.” He exited the room.

Roman wiggled in place and his stomach tightened further.

The baby. They would see their baby today. He wouldn’t embarrass his wife. She understood how hard this was for him.

Coralee obeyed the doctor’s instructions, taking a place on the examination table. As she did, the door opened. A nurse rolled in a large ultrasound machine. At her side was a small man in a clinic uniform. Taking hold of the machine, he positioned it a certain distance from Coralee, then lifted a tube of lubricant, squeezing it on Coralee’s belly.

She smiled at him. “I see Dad’s nervous,” she said. “It’s okay. We see lots of fathers just like you.”

Roman blinked. “You do?”

“Oh, of course. Dr. Blanton and I could tell stories He’s a popular guy, our doc,” she continued, “but not so much with the spouses.”

Roman exhaled. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. If he wasn’t the only guy with this problem, then he didn’t have to be so hard on himself.

“I think you’ll like what you’ll see,” she said. She reversed, nodding toward the small screen.

The technician snapped on a pair of disposable gloves and took the probe from her hand. He angled it, scooping it overtop Coralee’s abdomen, then paused in one particular location. “Well, Dad, there she is.”

“She?” Coralee lifted her head.

Transfixed, Roman leaned in, his gaze on the rounded shape of a head. The baby extended an arm, flexing tiny fingers.

“She,” the tech said. “It’s a girl. Congratulations.”

Coralee reached for Roman. “Sue,” she said.

He nodded, but he couldn’t look away. Because there, in front of him, was a life he’d made, and nothing else mattered. He and Coralee and their love for each other had done that.

“Oh ...” Coralee squeaked and looked down at her belly. “She moved.”

Roman started in his seat.

“Here, feel it.” She took his hand and landed it, splat, in the center of all the goop on her belly, and there, beneath his hand, came a sign of life.

Roman swallowed past the thickness in his throat and brought his gaze to hers. Her eyes were moist, tears held in her lashes.

“Sue,” she said again, softly.

He nodded. “Sue.”

His cheek on Coralee’s belly, Roman counted the ripples beneath her skin, and marveled again, that anything he’d done had put them in this place. Life was so short, and love so precious that when you found it, you ought to cling tight with all your might.

The rewards were huge. He wouldn’t trade one second with her for any amount of cash, not even the pointless arguments they’d had, or the stress of doctor’s visits, pregnancy classes. All of that led him to here, to the private, quiet with them together, nothing but their baby, Sue, between them.

“She’ll have your hair,” he said, one hand straying along her thigh.

Coralee blew out the tiniest breath, causing her chest to rise and fall beneath him.

“And my eyes.”

“Your lips,” Coralee said.

He smiled. “My butt.”

This made her giggle, and he couldn’t help but join in.

“She’ll be kind and loving like her dad,” Coralee said, once they’d settled.

Roman twisted his gaze to see her face. “But spontaneous like her mother.”

“That’s less spontaneous and more spazz,” Coralee replied.

He grinned. “I like you like that. I want her to come out swinging and break the nose of the first boy to look wrong at her.”

“Maybe not break his nose, although that did work pretty well for me. Maybe not talk as much as me either,” Coralee said.

“I like to hear you talk, makes me happy.”

Her lips pursed. “You’ll probably feel less happy about it a couple months from now when I’m complaining a lot.”

He drew himself up higher to a position where he could see her face and gazed downward, not speaking for a while. “I’m sorry for all my hang ups with the doctor.”

Coralee’s brow wrinkled. “I know. But why bring that up now?”

“Guilt, I guess. The nurse said I wasn’t the only one with that problem, and that helped some. But I still feel ... stupid. I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”

She raised a hand to his cheek. “You taught me it was okay to be myself, that for everything I’m bad at, I’m good at something else. You’re not any different. But you set higher standards for yourself than you do me ... you always have. I never expected you to be perfect, you know?”

Roman gave a soft smile. “I knew I married you for some reason ....”

The hardware store had always been his place of refuge and numbers something he could count on to relieve stress. These were black and white, right or wrong, without areas of gray, and that seemed safe to him, especially now with the baby on the way.

Roman ran his finger down the ledger column pausing halfway. He’d met Coralee at the store, and from day one, she’d changed everything. Now, with her mostly staying home and Manuela, who he’d hired several years before, successfully picking up the slack, the store had once again become his getaway, ten hours every day when he could set aside pregnancy and all things involving the baby and become just Roman Avery.

He kept this thought to himself because Coralee was really sensitive nowadays. He understood it, but, at the same time, it did increase the stress at home. She ate like a horse, had tremendous mood swings, and often, made him run around helter-skelter after this or that menial item. He needed his few hours at the store to unwind.

“I didn’t expect you to be in today.”

Manuela’s accented English whisked in Roman’s ears and he lifted his head. “Just for a few hours. I wanted to recheck the ledger.”

She smiled and nodded.

He liked Manuela, though liking her had been hard to do at first. Between Coralee’s distrust and Manuela’s beginner’s mistakes, he’d thought for a while about letting her go. But time and patience had worked everything out. She was now a faithful employee, very good at marketing for the store, and an overall nice person. He did wonder sometimes why she remained single. She was attractive, certainly drew men’s eyes, but so far, had avoided any attachments.

The hardware door opened and the electronic bell rang in the back. Without pause, Manuela revolved on her heel and returned to the front. He listened briefly while she talked in rapid Spanish then bowed his head over the numbers.

She startled him minutes later, speaking in his ear. “How is Coralee?”

Roman halted once more, raising his chin. “Good. But you know her. She’s hard to handle right now.”

Manuela laughed, light. “So you came to escape.”

He gave a crooked grin. “That obvious?”

She smiled and nodded. “It’s okay. I won’t tell her.”

He believed her. Manuela was incredibly honest, and that was a valuable trait in both an employee and a person.

Roman lowered his gaze to the ledger. An hour later, his legs cramped from sitting so long, he pushed to his feet and wandered to the front of the store. Manuela gathered the broom and began sweeping behind the counter, so he headed down one aisle then the up next, adjusting price tags and aligning products. He arrived near the entrance just as the doorbell rang. The person who entered was completely unexpected.

“Mr. Avery, I wondered if this was your store.”

Roman stood motionless, his eyes spreading wide. Dr. Blanton? Seeing Coralee’s obstetrician outside of the doctor’s office was ... well ... weird. He tried not to show it, smiling wide, but couldn’t bring himself to offer his hand. “Can I help you?” he asked.

Dr. Blanton gazed past him deeper into the store then back at his face. “Yes, actually. I got it in my head to build a pergola. I have the wood. At least, I think I do, but I haven’t any idea how to go about it. Someone at the home improvement store down the street said to go to Avery’s Hardware and ask. I admit the name stuck in my thinking, so I took up the idea out of curiosity as well.”

Unsure how to respond to that, Roman didn’t, instead, waving inward. “Glad to help,” he replied in a professional voice. “Perhaps if you tell me what size pergola you’re building, then I can figure the rest of the hardware you’ll need. Also ...” Roman circled a display of gardening plans, revolving it counter clockwise. He plucked one from the metal tray. “We have blueprints for sale.”

He slid it to Dr. Blanton, who gazed downward, flipping it open. “Wow. I guess they were right. I looked all over for something like this, but past an expensive download on the internet, came up dry.” He made a light laugh. “I don’t know why I want to build such a thing except a single guy like me must need a project.” He shrugged.

A shuffle from behind raised his gaze, and seeing his wide-eyed expression, Roman followed. Manuela pushed the broom ahead of her toward the far wall. There, she swiveled and reached for a dust pan. Upon retrieving it, however, her face turned their direction and she halted. Her color heightened, her hand sweeping a lock of her thick, black hair over her shoulder. Roman switched his gaze back to Dr. Blanton, who hadn’t moved, seemed to be barely breathing, in fact.

Roman cleared his throat, and the doctor jigged in place.

“I shouldn’t ask,” he began, nodding her direction. “But who is that?”

Roman didn’t respond right away. There was a considerable age difference between them, perhaps fifteen years. No reason that would cause a problem, still, the oddity of it struck him. He buried it and motioned Manuela their direction. She walked over, wiping her palms on her pants legs.

“This is Manuela Alvarez,” he said. He turned to her. “This is Coralee’s obstetrician, Dr. Blanton.”

“Edward,” Dr. Blanton said. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Please, call me Edward.”

I raised an eyebrow, unsure if I’d heard Roman right or not, and adjusted my seat on the couch. “Dr. Blanton asked Manuela on a date?”

Roman nodded, a soda can dangling from his fingertips. “Right in front of me. Said she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She acted ... not like I’d ever see her ... embarrassed, maybe?”

“But he’s older than her and ...” I couldn’t put the image together in my head. I mean, Dr. Blanton was an attractive man, something I was not about to tell Roman right then because he’d be more crooked than bow tie on a pig. Plus, Manuela was, indeed, a beautiful woman, but she was seventeen years younger than him.

“He’s not so old,” Roman said, “and she’s alone all the time. What does it hurt?”

Good question, and one I considered for the next few minutes. It didn’t really hurt anything or anyone. Manuela was alone a lot, her family all being in Mexico. She always said we were her closest friends. This brought a new thought into my head. “You did invite her for Thanksgiving?” I’d told him to. I hated the thought of everyone celebrating and her being all alone.

Roman nodded. “She said she’d love to. Of course, that was before ...”

Before she’d met Dr. Blanton. I knew what he meant. A sudden urge to tell Cindy about all this came over me, but I quashed it. She had an inordinate affection for him and would only go off on me again. I decided instead to think about Thanksgiving, which was only about a week away. Roman’s family and mine had decided to celebrate together. The weather was supposed to be nice, so my dad planned to borrow some tables to set up in the yard, and Roman was going to put up a tent.

“Well, the invite still holds, so you should tell her that,” I said.

He nodded, but I had the thought that he wouldn’t.

A week later on Thanksgiving, however, I’d just taken a seat outdoors, my feet propped on a small folding stool when the sliding glass doors on the back opened and Manuela walked out ... with Dr. Blanton. She approached, leaning over to kiss my cheek, and something came over me ... this weird, tingly, out-of-place feeling. Right then, I knew exactly how Roman felt going on my doctor’s visits.

All I could think about was the doctor examining me and now, him dating her. Him not being in a sterile, white room wearing a lab coat. I became super uncomfortable. This only got worse the moment Cindy spotted him. Her gaze spun wide, and she froze in place. Then my mom exited the kitchen, Roman’s mom at her side, and it became yet more awkward.

I saw it on their faces, the same thought that was on mine. Here were four women who’d been in his office, who’d he’d seen their intimate places, and he wasn’t supposed to have a life outside of that. Ob-gyns did not eat turkey and dressing, enjoy pumpkin pie, or watch football games. Ob-gyns did not celebrate Thanksgiving.

Surprisingly, it was Roman who brought us back to reality. “Oh, good, you’re here,” he said, as if Dr. Blanton came over every day. “We need someone with skilled hands to carve the turkey.”

Laughter crisscrossed the group, and everyone took a collective breath. Dr. Blanton chuckled. “Never had someone ask quite like that,” he said, “but I’m happy to.” He followed Roman in the house.

CHAPTER 6

We sat around the table, the air warm, birds singing, and I suddenly had a lot to be thankful for. Though Dr. Blanton eating Thanksgiving with us was still strange.

We’d come a long way, Roman and I, from insecure teens to a married couple to soon-to-be parents, and I’d gone from being afraid of having a baby to embracing it. We’d had our first fight, and Roman had overcome, somewhat, his doctor hang up. I’d learned to put myself in his shoes. I was so blessed and had such a rich future to look forward to.

I swallowed the heaping of cornbread dressing on my fork, aware I looked like a pig at the trough, and inhaled, reaching for my napkin. “I’d like to say something,” I began.

Everyone paused in their conversations, their faces turned toward me.

“I have a couple months to go yet before Sue pops out ...”

“Don’t say it like that, dear,” my mother said. “It sounds wrong.”

Laughter tittered around the table. I nodded at her. “Anyhow, I wanted to say I’m thankful for all of you. For Spencer ...” I started with him because he was right beside me. “You always keep me grounded.”

He took my hand and squeezed it.

“For Cindy because I never know what you’re going to say.” She practically beamed at that one, but it was true, and she proved it.

“Since you brought that up,” she said. “I’m going to say having Thanksgiving with my gynecologist is fun.”

Dr. Blanton laughed along with everyone else, and it took a few minutes for things to die down before I could continue.

“I’m thankful for Mom and Dad because without both of you, I’d be toast.” My parents smiled back at me proudly. “And for Mr. and Mrs. Avery for taking me into your family and not minding the mistakes.”

“Well ...” Mrs. Avery said, flapping one hand at me.

“For Grandpa ...”

He gazed at me, clear-headed for once. I was so happy he’d come. He made things complete.

“You didn’t care I broke Roman’s nose.” My eyes were getting teary now, and honestly, I didn’t want to cry. But it was so easy these days.

Coralee, I broke the pepper shaker. Me, in tears.

Coralee, the toilet’s stopped up. Me, crying.

I pulled in a breath to calm myself. “I’m thankful for Manuela, who works so hard for so little.”

“Soy bendecido,” she said.

Dr. Blanton translated it. “I am blessed.”

“You speak Spanish?” Cindy asked.

He nodded. “Did some missions work in Mexico.”

That answered a lot of questions, why he’d been drawn to Manuela being the biggest. I gazed at him, “And for Dr. Blanton, who isn’t old or gray or wrinkled and ugly, and a very good doctor.”

He grinned.

“And doesn’t mind that Roman is freaked by going to his office.”

This made Roman squirm and brought my gaze to him. He was the most important thing I had to say. I angled myself toward him best I could.

“I love you,” I said. “You’re steady and faithful and patient. You’re good to me, and I am so lucky.”

His cheeks reddened.

“We didn’t plan this ... of course, we didn’t because we never plan anything.”

A few laughs rose in the background.

“But I like us that way,” I continued. “I like that you’re you and I’m me and together we’re us. And I know I’m cranky and eat too much and sent you all over town looking for Mama Betty’s sour pickles.”

“You did,” he replied, “and I found them.”

“I love those,” my mom inserted. “Where did you find them?”

He looked over my shoulder at her. “The feed store.”

“Really?” This came from Mrs. Avery. “But that makes sense, really. Mama Betty was their great great aunt.”

“I never knew that,” my mom replied. “Funny how life comes full circle.”

It did, and I reclaimed Roman’s attention. “I’m thankful for you the most,” I said. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of my noggin.

Cindy shoved up from her chair. “That was beautiful, and I’d cry. But I seriously want pumpkin pie ...”

And the moment was broken.

Thanksgiving and Christmas were too close together. I thought this on any given year, but this year thought it more because of being so large. My size was hampering me.

Decorating I could get Roman to do. He actually enjoyed it, unlike my brother or my dad who ran the other way. But shopping ... for that I’d have to lean on Cindy. This brought my mind around to Spencer and his lack of a proposal. Seemed like Christmas would be the perfect time for it, but having pledged to not push him over it, I didn’t want to ask. I did, however, schedule a shopping trip with Cindy.

“I have a list,” I said, waving it in front of me. “I figure if we organize it by location then that’s less walking.”

She snatched it from my fingers and scanned down the page. “Underwear? You’re going to buy Roman underwear?” Her eyes bored into mine.

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked. “He needs them. His have holes.”

Her lips tipped into a smile. “It’s so ... motherly ... of you. But, no, we’re going to buy him something special ... lingerie.”

I raised my brows. “I don’t think he’ll wear it.”

This made her laugh. One hand pressed to her chest, she giggled for quite some time, then pulled it all in. “You always get me,” she said. She tapped the list. “Not for him to wear, for you to wear after.”

Oh, good point, but—

“You’d better buy a size big enough for a hot air balloon ...”

She patted my cheek. “It’s all temporary. I am personally taking on your weight loss plan. We’re going to work all that baby fat off and get you back into pristine shape. You’ll have him drooling all over again.”

This made me feel good, though I couldn’t picture Roman drooling. It was too sloppy for his personality.

Cindy dropped the list to her lap. “I heard ...” she began. “That Dr. Blanton is taking Manuela to Mexico for Christmas.”

I nodded. “He is head over heels for her. Crazy in love.”

It was sweet really. He’d fallen for her at first sight, and they’d been together ever since.

“She hasn’t been in five years, and he says he can afford to take them.” I rested one hand on my distended belly. “I’m so happy for her.”

Cindy nodded. “Me, too.” She plucked up the list. “So that’s Roman. Your mom and dad we’ll handle fine, and the Averys. I also like your idea for Roman’s grandpa. But this for Spencer won’t work either.”

“It won’t?” I’d thought that one out long and hard, even asking him what he wanted. He’d said he’d like a nice watch, so I wanted to get him one.

But Cindy shook her head. “No. I got him the watch. It was a tad expensive ...” Her voice softened, then she seemed to perk up. “I want you to get him something else.”

Her expression said she knew exactly what that would be, so I waited.

“Tickets.”

“Tickets to what?”

She hesitated, licking her lips, and I took the moment to look around us. The kitchen was empty and clean ... all Roman’s doing. The sun sparkled through the window. It was peaceful and homey and I was suddenly so happy. I returned my eyes to her face.

She squirmed, twisting this way and that. “Las Vegas.”

Las Vegas? I blinked. Why would Cindy want me to buy Spencer tickets to Las Vegas, and it hit me ... “Oh, no. Cindy, I can’t. He’ll see through it, and you said you’d wait. I’m sure he’s close. He probably has it planned as a gift, and ...”

She did something unexpected then. She burst into tears.

I reached for her, placing my hand on her head. I don’t think I’d ever felt so bad for a person, and I really didn’t know what to say.

She solved that by babbling while she cried. “It’s all ... I’ve ever ...” She hiccupped. “Wanted ... He just keeps ... holding out ... I don’t think I can ... take it.”

It took her five minutes to say that much.

“And ... I’m ... jealous.” She looked at me. Her makeup and run raccoon-like down her cheeks. “You have Roman.”

I was reminded then of a cartoon I watched in my youth where a character symbolically turned into a shoe. I was a heel. By being married and pregnant and happy I’d become the very thing she wanted the most.

“He’d drive you crazy,” I said, matter-of-factly.

Her gaze grew curious.

“For one thing, he insists on washing out the bathroom sink at every turn.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” she asked, sniffling.

“While I’m using it? It’s all I can do to get over there and he’s rinsing it out before I’m done. And another thing ...” I said, holding up one finger. “He says numbers in his sleep.”

He’d only done this twice, and I’d put it down to end of the month stress. But I wanted Cindy to feel better right then.

“In his sleep?”

I closed my eyes and tossed my head as if I wasn’t awake. “Forty-two ... twenty-nine ...”

She snickered, her hand going over her mouth.

“Honestly ... I just started replying, and he didn’t even miss a beat. ‘Thirty-one,’ I’ll say, and he replies, ‘Fifteen.’”

The light had come back in her eyes. I took her hand in mine.

“Spencer loves you, and I promise one day he’s going to ask. It’s just he’s hardheaded, stubborn, and afraid.”

“Afraid?” She seemed genuinely surprised by that.

But I’d figured it out long ago. I nodded. “Of letting you down. Of not being the man you need. Spencer talks big,” I said, “but he’s really a softie.”

Cindy stared at me for a moment, then leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I love you,” she said, “and know exactly why Roman married you. Thanks.”

I smiled. “You’re welcome. From one sister to another.” She was like my sister, really. I couldn’t have asked for a better one. “Now ...” I sat up as tall as possible. “While we’re out shopping, I know right where I want to eat ...”

The problem I solved that day became a bucket of manure on Christmas night when my family and his came together to open gifts. We gathered around the tree while my dad read the Christmas story, me thinking about Sue and Mary, Jesus’s mother, drawing comparisons in my head. My mom sang Silent Night next, the rest of us joining in. Then Spencer donned the family Santa hat and passed out all the presents. It was a happy few moments, everyone ripping and tearing paper. Thank-yous then proceeded around the room.

That’s when I noticed Cindy hadn’t opened hers. It was a small box, about four inches square, wrapped in glittery gold paper with a huge red bow, a little big for a ring, but still, it was possible there was one in there. I’d sat in the floor, so I rolled myself closer, gazing up at her from the floor. She gave a wobbly smile.

“Open it,” I said softly.

Her hands were shaking badly. She tugged at the ribbon, her face pale.

I was afraid what would happen if it wasn’t the ring, even more what I’d do to Spencer.

She tugged harder, and it pulled free. The room grew quiet, only the faint rustle of paper lifting in the air. Grasping the lid, she shook it off and gazed inside. I guess there wasn’t anything to see right off, because she dug around in the box for a minute, then raised an object from the bottom. A jewelry box.

Cindy’s eyes grew bright, a sparkle appearing in them. She glanced at him and flipped the lid open. Shining there on a maroon cushion was a lovely diamond charm. A charm. Not a ring.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

Cindy let out a sob.

“Like it?” I squawked. “You nitwit.” I pushed up from the floor. Grabbing a throw pillow, I bashed him over the head. “You are the stupidest, dumbest, numbskull on the whole planet. Your spine is made out of telephone cord, your heart more yellow than the daffodils. What in the world did you buy her a charm for?”

His hands were over his head now, fending off my blows.

“So what your swimmers don’t swim. So what you think you’re inept and not good enough. She’s the best girl for you in the world and you go and buy her a charm? Where’s the proposal?”

“I ... I ...” He was trying to talk, but I wasn’t letting him.

“Coralee,” my mom said, “maybe you should relax.”

Relax? I looked at her. “Maybe you should tell him what a bonehead he is.”

“Now, dear,” my father began. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Of course not,” I returned. “Let’s all coddle Spencer. Meanwhile, he breaks the heart of someone we all love like she was our own.”

This brought silence. It also brought Cindy to her feet. She stood there wavering, her eyes brimming with tears, and choked out her next words. “I love all of you, too,” she said, “especially you, Coralee.” She laid one hand on my belly. “I like to think I’ll be Sue’s aunt regardless, but ...”

She faced Spencer, and the room became cold as ice. “It’s over. Don’t call me anymore.”

“Cindy ...” he said.

But it was too late. Leaving her gift on the sofa, she made her way out. My heart near about ripped in two. Which was worse? Cindy breaking up with my brother or Spencer looking like you’d run his heart through a shredder.

“Well, go after her,” my mom said to him.

He shook his head. “No, she’s right. You’re right.” He looked at me. “I’m as low as they come.” He went down the hall, and stunned, I sank down onto the couch.

“Have you talked to Spencer?” Roman asked Coralee.

She shook her head. “He won’t pick up. You?”

He shook his head as well. “The same.”

It was sad really. All these months since Christmas and, not only weren’t Spencer and Cindy seeing each other, but they wouldn’t talk either.

“Mom says leave him alone,” Coralee continued. “Dad says he went over there, but Spencer wouldn’t open the door.”

They sighed in unison.

“I called Cindy though,” Coralee continued. “So that’s something. We talked about Sue, her job, a trip she’s taking to Los Angeles. She wouldn’t bring him up at all.”

It was really over. Hard to believe. They’d been together so long. Spencer and Cindy, Cindy and Spencer, you couldn’t have one without the other. But somehow they had to now.

He had to focus on other things. Coralee was due any day, and both his anticipation and his fear were running pretty high. Dr. Blanton said not to worry, everything looked great.

He was actually a very good doctor and a nice man. He came to the hardware store all the time to see Manuela, and they’d talk about barbeques, building things, sports.

Still, despite Dr. Blanton’s encouragement, his personal ignorance had sprouted wings. That’s really what it was – all the things he didn’t know clogging together in his brain to make the fear stronger. It choked him at times. Then he’d realize it and pray.

He’d discovered prayer was an amazing thing. Though he couldn’t hear God’s reply, he knew it God held them both in his hand. That made it pretty special. After all, with so many people in the world and so many problems and situations involved in each of them, God somehow sorted it all out long enough to take care of him and Coralee and Sue.

“We should pray for Spencer,” Roman said.

Coralee took his hand, dragging it into her lap, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Her hair tickled his nose.

“You pray. I might cry,” she said.

Roman weighed his words, deciding exactly what was right to say, and spoke from his heart. “God, maybe You didn’t plan for Spencer and Cindy to be together, but I remember when Coralee and I couldn’t see we loved each other. Yet you were there working all along, and look how far we’ve come.”

A long way from there to here, from two uncertain teens to parents, from dating to sharing the most intimate moments.

“Roman ...” Coralee whispered in his ear.

“Not yet,” he said. This was helping. God was the solution, regardless of how things turned out. “Even if they’re not together as a couple, I know you can give them their happiness back. It’s terrible to be so sad all the time ....”

“Roman ...”

Roman held up one finger. “You want everyone happy. You want them to know You love them and ...” Roman’s brow wrinkled and he looked down. “Did you wet the couch?” No sooner had the words left his lips, than his face chilled. “You ... you ... you w-wet ... the couch. The baby?”

Coralee nodded.

“The baby ... the baby is coming ... must call ... call the doctor ... and family ... get car ...”

“The bag,” Coralee said, calmly patting his arm. “Go get the bag.”

“Bag. Get the bag.” Roman repeated the phrase on his way down the hall. He plucked the bag from the floor by the bed and returned to the living room.

“Mom, Dad,” Coralee said into her cell phone. “The baby’s on the way. Can you call the Averys? And get Spencer. Don’t take no for an answer. We’ll meet you there.”

“Bag,” Roman said, holding it up in front of him.

Coralee stuck out one hand. “Okay. Help me up and let’s go to the car. I’m going to call Cindy when we get there.”

“Cindy?” Roman asked. He hauled Coralee to her feet and helped her down the walk, running back to lock the door behind them after she was in the car.

“She’s the baby’s aunt,” Coralee said. She located her phone and dialed the number.

Roman rounded the front of the car and fell into the driver’s seat. He cranked and reversed.

“Cindy? The baby’s coming. Can you be there? Me? Oh, I’m fine. Not sure about Roman.” She laughed. “Okay, see you in a few.”

Roman eased into the street. “How come you’re so calm?” he asked.

She smiled at him. “Oh, I’m not. This is a mirage. But if both of us fall apart then there’ll be no one left to pick up the pieces. Someone said that to me about nine months ago.”

Roman grinned. “He did. Didn’t he?”

CHAPTER 7

A loud squall split the air, and I raised my head. Dr. Blanton lifted Sue and smiled at me. “It’s a girl.”

A nurse captured her next, taking her over to a small metal stand.

“Just doing a quick check-up,” he said. “Congratulations.”

Congratulations. I looked up at Roman, and he leaned over and kissed me.

“You did good,” he said, “but I’m glad that’s over.”

Me too. Though I’d discovered a couple things about myself during the process. One, I had no shame. You could have put me in the middle of the street, and I wouldn’t have cared who was watching. This reminded me of the movie where the woman had her kids watching. Yeah, I got that now. Just get the baby out, and worry about your pride later. Two, I was a girl. This should have been obvious to me by this point, but nothing makes you feel more female than giving birth. Nothing.

And nothing changes your heart more. You prepare for it for nine months and come time for the delivery, you think you know what parenthood will feel like. But you don’t. It’s seeing and hearing and holding a life you created that changes who you are.

The nurse brought Sue to me and laid her on my chest, covering us both, and the deepest place in me became the softest, a spot made just for her right next to the one Roman held in his hands. It was us three together. My eyes welled. “She’s perfect.”

“Yes, she is,” he said, “and I love you both.”

I looked up at him, thinking he needed to hold her, and suddenly felt this insistent tug. “Oh, that’s ... Ow ... She’s ... she’s ...”

Roman chuckled. “Doing what babies do.”

My brain fried then. I’d held up really well through the whole thing, staying amazingly calm. I remembered everything I was told to do and did it. But with Sue nursing, I fell apart and started to blubber.

“I’m a m-mom ... a-and y-you’re a dad ... and she’s ourrrs.” That came out an extended whine. “She’s so smallll a-and I might ... might do something wrong ... and ...”

“You won’t,” he said, taking my hand, “but whatever happens we’ll handle together.”

“Once ... Once is enough,” I continued. “No more babies.”

He squeezed my fingers. “You might change your mind.”

I took my free hand and hooked it on his ear lobe. “You ever do this to me again, and I’m taking away your baby making abilities.”

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay, all right. We’ll be careful.” He gave me a pained expression. “Can I hold her?”

I released his ear. He should hold her, then he’d know how I felt. It took a minute to detach Sue. She was pretty content, which was probably like Roman. He got that way, happy with the same thing all the time.

The nurse wrapped her in a blanket and settled her in his arms, and looking at Roman, I learned something else. Fathers holding the newborn daughters are incredibly sexy. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Roman looked down at me and a slow smile spread on his face. “I bet I can persuade you to have another.”

Probably. But I was saved from admitting it.

Sue screwed her face into a ball and let out a screech.

“What ... what do I do?” he asked, desperation on his face.

Then again, I said to myself, could be Sue had just solved the second baby problem. I laughed.

“And this is your Grandpa Pirtle.”

My dad bent over Sue, his face beaming. “I swear she’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.” He kissed her forehead.

My mom slid right. “And this is Grandpa and Grandma Avery, but you met them.”

They’d each had a turn at holding her earlier, and since then, the tiny room had become more and more crowded.

She moved right again. “This is your Uncle Spencer.”

“You wanna hold her, Spence?” I asked.

Spencer’s eyes became the size of flying saucers. He looked at me then down at her. “You think I should? She’s so small.”

“Sure. You’re her uncle,” I said.

“Here ...” my mom said. “Hold your arms out.”

He did. But when she put Sue in them, he held her like she was a bomb. “Oh, she’s so little. I don’t know,” he began.

“Closer. Like this.” My mom helped him shift his grip, and Sue snuggled up against him.

His face changed.

He’d been really quiet, looking over his shoulder a lot, and I understood why. Cindy. I had called her, but she hadn’t shown. This upset me. But I reasoned it was uncomfortable for her. I couldn’t be angry over it, and determined to talk to her sometime and let her hold Sue.

Spencer stuck out one finger, and Sue curled her tiny hand around it. “Look ... look at that,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m not so bad at this.”

No sooner had he uttered those words than the door opened and Cindy walked in. Seeing Spencer and Sue, she halted, her eyes growing moist.

Spencer looked up. “Cin-cindy ...”

Cindy reversed to leave the room, but he anticipated it, stepping into her path. “No, I’m gonna say something, and I want you to listen.”

“Don’t,” she said softly.

“I have to,” he said. “Give me a chance and then if you still want to leave, I’ll move.”

She was shaking, and my mom came up behind her. She gave her a hug.

“So talk,” Cindy said.

He glanced down at Sue. “I never thought I’d be standing here holding my little sister’s baby. But she’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen and Coralee’s the bravest woman I know.” He looked past Cindy at me. “Not a girl anymore,” he said. “A woman, and the best mom.”

He returned his eyes to Cindy’s face. “Worst, dumbest, thing I ever did was let you go. I was scared out of my mind, so afraid you’d change your mind about having kids. I know you said it didn’t matter, but how couldn’t it?” He turned Sue toward her. “Look at her. She’s half him and half her. That’s the most special thing ever, and I can’t give you that.”

“You won’t even try,” she said.

He gulped. “You’re right. I said that, but I was wrong. These have been the longest, worst, most horrible months of my life, and I have no right to ask, not now, not ever. But ...” He extended Sue. “Mom?”

My mom stepped forward and took Sue from him. He immediately dropped to his knees. “If you can ever forgive me and see past my mistakes, will you marry me?”

A corporate gasp whisked around the room, and Cindy’s hand flew over her mouth.

“Well,” my dad said. “There it is. What’s your answer?”

Her head bobbed and she squeaked out a yes. Spencer leaped up. Placing his hands on her cheeks, he kissed her. “I love you,” Spencer said. “I love you. I love you.”

“Hey ...” I called out. “If you can take a breather ...”

Cindy giggled.

“Sue wants to meet her aunt.”

Cindy turned, and my mom handed Sue to her. She gave a soft little coo.

It was the most perfect scene and my life at its brightest. Cindy with Sue, Spencer kissing her cheek, my parents, his parents, Roman and I, and lots of love filling the room. As it should be. I was blessed.

THE END