She follows my line of sight before slowly nodding. “Well, except for Piper and Shaw. They’re new like you as well. They joined after Sonya’s move.”
“Piper and Shaw?” I ask, my tone high.
The instructor looks back at me, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“I was just wondering if Shaw would like to join my club.” I drag my hand through the air as if I am highlighting a fluorescent banner. “Expected dad-to-be Lamaze support group. Enter excited, leave in fear.”
Her giggle rings through the room. “It isn’t that scary, I promise. But I’ll be sure to pass on your interest to Shaw after class. If he’s happy to be included in your club, I’ll introduce you at next month’s class.”
“Sounds great… but is there a possibility you could pass on my number to them sooner than that?” Macy chimes in, handing her a business card for her alias. “We’re new to the area and still finding our place in the community. I’d love the opportunity to chat with other expectant mothers from the area. From what I’ve heard, you can’t get into some schools here unless you enrol your child before their conception.”
The instructor’s suspicious expression softens. “It took three years to get my daughter a placement at seminary, and her placement was only put in the right hands because one of the board members was a student of mine.”
“Wow. You have such a diverse group of attendees. Has it always been like this?”
The instructor nods. “We have all walks of life attending our classes, all at different stages of their pregnancies. Groups like this are a great way to connect with others going through the same experience.” She lowers her gaze to Macy, the concern in her eyes growing. “But you should still be cautious. Just because two people are expecting doesn’t make them instant best friends.”
As she stores Macy’s card in her pocket, I notice a brief flick of hesitation in her eyes. It is subtle, but enough to bump her up my list.
“Thank you for your help.” I shift the instructor’s focus back to me. “But we don’t want to hog all your time. Some of yourattendees look like they’ll need your help a lot sooner than us.” That’s a lie. Macy is the closest to her due date; strangers just don’t know that since her bump is compact and mainly carried in her back.
“You’re right.” The instructor stands, her eyes lingering on us for a nanosecond before she turns her focus back to the class. “One vital thing you need to remember as a support person is that your role is to…”
Her voice trails off into silence when Macy murmurs, “We aredefinitelyat the right location.”
22
MACY
When the Lamaze class wraps up, Grayson’s lips brush the shell of my ear, sending an exciting trickle rolling down my spine. “Let’s wait a bit.” His voice is barely audible over the murmur of the crowd packing up after the hour-long class. “See who the instructor talks to.”
He waits for me to agree before assisting me to my feet, then gathers our belongings and hands them to me before rolling up the yoga mat. His movements are clumsy and slow, like he’s never handled a single piece of gym equipment in his life.
His banging guns make him an instant liar.
After placing the yoga mat back on its designated stack, we remain at the rear of the room to observe who the instructor distributes my business card to. It’s a long shot, but even a tiny lead can sometimes solve a case.
As the couples approach the instructor to thank her for her help, I spot the couple I highlighted earlier making a break for it. They don’t seem eager to shower the instructor with praise. It appears they’d rather be anywhere but here.
“I’ll be back,” I say to Grayson, aware that in a situation like this, divide and conquer is always the preferred method.
Sticky humid air smacks into me when I exit the Lamaze class. It is a stark contrast to the icy-cold setting I just left. When I reach Piper and Shaw near the main entrance door, I straighten up and pretend I know who they are.
“Hey, long time no see!” I call out, waving.
The young woman, who looks weeks from giving birth, kicks up gravel when she jackknifes back. While she hits me with a look of disdain, her top lip curls into a snarl. “Do I know you?”
I bridge the distance between us, grimacing when the tape near the waistband of my panties tugs a handful of felonious body hairs. “It’s been ages. You were only?—”
“In diapers the last time you saw me?” she snaps out, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “How old are you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at home, knitting or something?”
Although embarrassed, I continue approaching. Teens think anyone over thirty is ancient. “I didn’t know you were expecting. How far along are you?”
The man at the top of our perpetrator list joins us at the edge of the parking lot before she can answer. “Can I help you…?”
He leaves his question open for me to fill in. “Charlotte.” I hold out my hand in offering. “I met Piper at an art class a couple of years ago. She has alotof talent.”
My assumption about the stains proves correct as excitement for my praise appears on Piper’s face, but her bewilderment quickly turns into a snarl, and it ruins my ruse.
