Kinley turns in the driver’s seat, her round, beachball of a belly is obviously in the way, and gets out of her SUV to waddle across the gravel driveway and up the porch steps. Her long hair is in a thick, messy bun on top of her head, and her jean jacket is obviously something she wore pre-pregnancy because there’s no way it could cover her belly.
Even though the temperatures are cool outside, she is wearing another shorts jumpsuit, purple this time, displaying her long, thin legs, and a pair of tennis shoes and ankle socks.
The screen door squeaks as she opens it, and I turn to go to the foyer. The swinging doors between the kitchen and dining room open when Allison comes through with a tray of food. Today she is wearing a pair of high-waisted, stonewash jeansthat look like they stepped out of a vintage eighties catalog and a baggy t-shirt tucked into the yoke of the denim.
Her curls are swept up the sides of her head, complemented by a bouffant of bangs on her forehead. I think it’s safe to say that Allison likes eighties fashion. When I see the high-top Converse and her jeans pushed into the socks above the tops of her shoes, I almost laugh out loud.
“Hey!” Allison’s face lights up when she sees Kinley, and she sets the tray on a table to give her a hug over the protruding belly.
“Hey…” Kinley’s greeting is nothing like Allison’s perky one, and Allison holds her arms and steps back.
“Girl, the bags under your eyes could hold my groceries. Are you okay?”
Kinley heaves a big sigh. “Yes. I can’t flippin’ get comfortable at night, this little boy loves to move around when I’m trying to rest, so I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. Please tell me you have cream cheese and olives; that seems to be the only thing I can think about lately.”
Allison smiles. “You want it on bread or just by the spoonful?”
Kinley’s shoulders sag, and she takes a breath of relief. “Thank God! The biggest damn spoon you have, please.”
“You got it! Sit! I’ll be right back.” Allison waves toward the dining table and disappears into the kitchen.
I’m still standing in the wide, arched doorway of the sitting room with the phone in my hand as Kinley sits at the table. When she looks over and sees me, her face lights up and she smiles. “Hi! You’re still here.”
Her sentiment mirrors her brother’s, but hers is a pleasant surprise while his was accusatory, like I’m intruding on something by being in the same town. I still haven’t figured outwhy he dislikes me so much, but I haven’t seen him at the pub since he glared at me like an outsider a few nights ago.
Walking to the front desk, I set the phone next to the desk calendar that has sticky notes and scribbles all over it. Giving her a small wave, I smile and say, “Yep, still here.”
With one hand on her belly, she waves me over with the other. “Come, sit and have breakfast with us.”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”
Her face twists in mock sarcasm. “Pfft, I have breakfast with Allison every week when I come into town to take Tuck to his physical therapy.”
That night on the side of the road last week, I noticed a marked limp when he walked. And there was that hiss of pain while we were talking in the truck. I also saw a slight limp when he left the pub the other night, and I’d wondered what was causing it.
Sitting in the chair to her left, I decide not to tell her I noticed. “Physical therapy?”
Her hand constantly rubs her belly; I don’t think she even notices she’s doing it. “Oh yeah, he was injured while on some kind of special operation in the Air Force last year. Almost lost his leg.”
Allison pushes through the swinging doors with another tray and sets it down in front of Kinley. It has a square of cream cheese cut into small wedges on a dessert plate, and there are three condiment bowls around the plate holding green olives, black olives, strawberry jam, and a small sleeve of crackers.
Kinley excitedly holds her hands in prayer position in front of her mouth as she hungrily eyes the assortment in front of her. “You’re a fucking saint.” She places her hand on Allison’s arm, her gaze not leaving what looks like the best thing to happen to her in a while. “I love you.”
Allison laughs as she waves her hand across her front. “Will you go with me when I meet St. Peter to tell him that, because I think he might call into question extensively breaking the no fornication rule.”
The ease and familiarity between them squeezes my chest. I always wanted a best friend, but I was so shy and introverted in school, I only made surface friends. Nothing deep and meaningful like the two women in front of me, I can tell they have been friends for a long time.
While they chatter about the afterlife and then move on to how Kinley is feeling, Allison sets out the food she brought out on the first tray when Kinley got here. “Here, Nora, have some breakfast.”
Not wanting to take anything she made for herself, I sit back in my chair to put distance between me and the food. “Oh, I don’t want to take your breakfast.”
She pauses, and her eyes settle on mine, her eyebrows pulled together like I said something weird. “I made enough for you, too. I was going to knock on your door to ask you down, but Ryder beat me to it.”
My heart warms. I haven’t been included for a long time, not since Grams was alive. Sitting up straight in my chair, I smile and take one of the empty plates. “Okay. Thanks.”
Kinley moans, and both of us swing our heads in her direction. Her pink manicured fingernails have cream cheese on them, and she’s licking her fingers while she chews and does a little happy dance in her chair with her eyes closed.
Covering my mouth with my fingers, I stifle a laugh. She looks like the dancing gopher onCaddyshackwith its big round belly.
