“But… but…” My head is spinning in both directions at once as I absently tear the towels to shreds. “I haven’t even had any babies!”
I can only imagine the look on my face because it immediately propels Norinne into action. She pulls me into a hug so tight I’m nearly asphyxiated and then whirls me around to the door, only to shove me through it.
“Char! Emergency special! STAT!”
“On it!” comes Charlene’s voice from somewhere as I’m frog-marched to an empty high-top table and helped onto a stool.
“Now, you listen here, Shelby Sweet.” Norinne levels me with serious eyes and pries the damp, shredded paper from my death grip. “No need to panic. You’ve still got time.” She pats my hand and tries on a halfhearted smile. “That said, you and Dallas are gonna want to get moving on this, you hear? Better safe than sorry. The good news is that making babies is no hardship, especially with that one, I reckon.” She grins at me for real this time.
Charlene drops a glass of amber liquid between us, and Norinne slides it in front of me. “Now, drink up and enjoy your party. You can think about babies tomorrow.”
I do as I’m told, the liquid fire burning as it goes down and making me cough. “Whatwasthat?”
Charlene waves me off. “Oh, nothing. Just a bit of Pappy’s apple moonshine.”
Oh shit. Pappy doesn’t mess around.
“Go have fun.” Norinne takes the empty glass and shoos me off the stool. “I’ll distract Meemaw and Phyllis for you.”
Skye waves me over from the party corner, and I head in her direction, feeling distinctly less steady than I did before my run-in with Norinne.
“You okay in there?” Dallas asks through his bathroom door.
“No.”
“You drink too much, birthday girl?”
I assess my reflection before answering. “No.” I just spent the last five minutes mumbling to myself while leaning forward to inspect my hairline. “Maybe.” My part is definitely wider than it was a year ago. I’m sure of it. “Probably.”
Damn Pappy. Damn Turquoise Titillation. Forty is too old to make poor drinking choices, even if it is my birthday.
“Open up, Shelby. I’ve got a glass of water for you.”
I woman up and push away from the sink. When I open the door, Dallas stands there looking like James freaking Dean all grown up and aged to perfection in his jeans and T-shirt. He extends the glass to me, and I take it. “Thanks.”
“You feelin’ ill?”
I swallow a sip of water and set the glass on the bedside table. “No.” My ass drops to the edge of the bed. “Well, not like you mean.”
“What’s the matter then?” Dallas comes closer and sits down next to me, real concern in his eyes.
I open my mouth to saynothing, but the truth comes out instead. “I’mold.” Then, like the total baby I’m being, I flop onto my back and cover my eyes with my arm. A wave of dizziness hits me, but I stay where I am. It’ll pass.
Dallas’s choking laughter echoes off his bedroom walls. “You’re not old. You’re eight months younger than me, and I’m not old, so that makes it impossible for you to be.”
“You’re a man,” I bellow with the grace of a rhinoceros.
“And?”
“Your balls aren’t shriveling up into tiny infertile raisins with no purpose left in life but to sit there and mock you!”
“Be careful what you say around my balls. They have ears, you know.” I can’t see his face, but I imagine he’s wincing—and probably cradling his nuts.
I toss my arm aside and pull myself upright, blinking a few times as I steady myself. Sure enough, Dallas is palming his groin through his jeans like he’s protecting the Holy Grail from marauders.
“My ovaries are choking out, Dallas! Not to mention I’m going bald and not sleeping right, and I’m moody as fuck!” This does nothing to temper his mirth. “It’s not funny.”
“You’re not going bald. You have fucking gorgeous hair.”
