My sisters descended on me for hugs and explanations.
“Nobody tells me anything,” Amy complained.
“I’m not telling anyone yet,” I said. Only our mother. I bit my lip. And Meg and John. And Trey, who was sworn to secrecy. “Not until I see the doctor this week.”
Beth squeezed my hand. “Does Eric know?”
“I have to talk to him,” I said. “We’ll take it from there.”
“Who cares about Eric?” Amy said. “You’ve got us.”
“You’ve always got us,” Meg said.
“Whatever happens,” Beth said.
I hugged my sisters tight, choked with emotion. I’d always prided myself on living my own life, on making my own way alone. With or without Eric, I was finding my path forward. But I wasn’t alone. I had my sisters. And my mother. And my father, detached as he was. I had prickly Aunt Phee and loyal Trey and friends on both sides of the country. I had a story inside me struggling to get out. And seven months from now, I would have a baby. Imagine.
A smile worked its way from deep inside. “I’m so lucky.”
My mother met my eyes and smiled with perfect understanding. “We’re so lucky,” she said.
“Oh, hey,” Amy said. “I almost forgot.” She dug in her pocket. “This is for you.”
I looked at the wad of cash without touching it. “It’s a little early for baby presents.”
She lifted her chin. “It’s not for the baby. It’s for you.” She put the bills on the table. “For a new laptop. Because I puked on your old one.”
Stunned, I started to count. “Amy. Honey. What did you do? Sell a kidney?”
“Of course not, silly. I left some of my bags with that friend of Meg’s. Sallie Moffat? She works at that boutique? She sold them for me.”
“Your bags. You mean, bags you made? You sold them?”
She nodded, her blue eyes meeting mine, seeking my... approval?
“That is so sweet,” Beth said.
“Generous,” Meg said.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I protested. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say,thank you,” our mother prompted.
“Thank you,” I repeated. “Oh, Ames, thanks!”
She beamed. “You’re welcome.”
And then we were hugging again, and I was crying,
“Hormones,” Meg said.
The family started arriving, first John—he brought the dog with him—then Trey and old Mr. Laurence. Hannah came, with pictures of her grandbabies. Finally, Aunt Phee’s white Mercedes pulled into the drive, our father in the passenger seat, her little Yorkie perched on his lap.
Phee greeted me with a kiss and a demand to know what I’d done to my hair.
Polly yapped and shook in our father’s arms, desperate to establish dominance over Lady. Dad held the dog awkwardly, a guest in his own home. I felt a hot surge of resentment and then a tug of pity. All this togetherness couldn’t be easy for him. He’d always held himself a little apart in family gatherings. Maybe I only noticed it now that he didn’t have his study to retreat to.
I took the dog from him, taking care it didn’t bite. “Hi, Dad. How was your conference?”
