“If it will get you to tell me what’s wrong with you.”
She gave the first smile that was deep enough to show her one dimple, the only one of Maggie’s three children to inherit Roger’s signature smile. “I’m fourteen weeks pregnant, Mama. I’m exhausted, and…yeah. That’s what’s wrong.”
Maggie followed Crista into the kitchen, both of them fixing coffee. Without a word, they took matching white mugs back to the deck and sat across from each other in two comfortable chairs.
“I’ve been thinking about this house,” Maggie finally said after first sips were taken.
Crista went still. “What about it?”
“The fact that you kids can sell in November. Have you and Vivien and Eli discussed it?”
“I think they’re dug in,” she said. “To stay.”
“And you?” Maggie ventured. “You used to want to sell, but…”
Crista’s eyes flashed, but she didn’t finish the sentence for Maggie.
“Have you decided?” Maggie pressed.
Crista opened her mouth, closed it, then said, “Thinking about it.”
“About selling or…”
Crista looked at the house again, and her expression changed—something like longing crossed with resentment.
“It’s worth so much,” she finally said. “Do you have any idea what we could do with that money? We could pay off everything. We could?—”
“You and Anthony are not struggling,” Maggie reminded her.
Crista’s eyes snapped to hers. “You don’t know everything.”
Oh.Maggie’s stomach tightened as she whiffed the scent of a secret. “Then tell me, Crista.”
Crista laughed once, shaky. “It’s not?—”
Maggie cut in, calm but unmovable. “Crista.”
Crista’s eyes filled instantly, as if her body had been waiting for permission to fall apart. “No, Mama,” she whispered. “I can’t.”
Maggie leaned over, putting a hand on her daughter’s arm. “You can. You always can tell me anything. Will I judge?”
Crista snorted.
“Of course I will,” Maggie conceded. “And then I will move heaven and earth to help you.”
“You can’t move anything to help me,” Crista said, so softly Maggie wasn’t sure she’d heard.
“Is it the baby?” Maggie asked, her body tense as she waited for bad news.
Crista blinked, startled by the question. “The baby’s fine,” she said, and her hand went to her slight baby bump in a protective gesture. “And Nolie’s great, too. Letting her watch little Pittypat while you were down here was such a good idea. It’s given her…I don’t know. A sense of taking care of something, which will be good when the baby comes.”
“Well, if it’s not the baby or Nolie, then?—”
“I think Anthony is cheating on me.”
The words were soft and careful, as if Crista was afraid they might hurt someone if spoken too loudly. Well, they did. Maggie felt them like a physical blow.
“No,” Maggie breathed. “Absolutely not.”
