“How are you feeling?”
Her hand passed over her belly reflexively. “Good. I mean, I’m sick half the time, but the doctor says everything’s fine.” She dropped her voice. “I heard the heartbeat on Friday. I wish Adam could’ve been there. But he’ll be home this week.”
“So . . . you really are pregnant?” It weirded me out that of all the people in this house—her entire family—the only person who knew her secret was me—the tabloid media, her enemy.
Her laugh came out like she’d been given the Heimlich maneuver, fast and hard. “Did you think I was lying?”
I shrugged. “When we first met, all you knew was that I worked for Andy. Knowing your history, it crossed my mind you might have set me up to hand him a story that could be easily proven false.”
She touched my wrist. “I want you to know that I’ve grown to trust you, but you’re right that at first, I worried.” She sighed. “Nothing personal, but it wasn’t ideal having you of all people discover us. We were idiots to talk about it while you were wandering around. I appreciate that you kept it quiet.”
“Of course.”
“I would’ve loved to tell my family about it today, but next week is soon enough. Adam will want to be here. He’ll get all the credit and move one more rung up the ladder of my mom’s esteem.”
“It’s great news.”
“Speaking of my mom’s esteem . . . I finally had something over Micah, and then he turns up with you.”
“What do you mean?”
She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “You have no idea.” She sat in one of the wingback chairs and tucked her bare feet under her knees. “She used to nag at me relentlessly to find a guy. Any guy. Seriously, she couldn’t let it go. But Micah could do nothing wrong.” She chuckled. “Thank God for Adam.”
“Hasn’t Micah ever brought home a girl?”
She stood and walked to the edge of the room to peer up the hall. “Listen. About that email I sent you last week . . .” She blew out her lips. “I’m glad I didn’t make you go running for the hills. But I was right, wasn’t I? I mean, he looks like he’s on a sugar high whenever he sees you.”
“He’s the most transparent person I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“I still don’t know what he sees in me. It’s hard to keep up.”
She bit her lip and appraised me a moment. “I really like you, Jo. But I hope you’ll be careful with him.”
I still didn’t know if she was worried about me or Micah. “I’m trying.”
Micah hollered up the hall. “Did you guys leave?” He entered the living room. “Come outside with everyone. Mom wants to take a picture of us.”
I glanced at the picture frame as we walked out, wondering if one day my face would rotate through, marking today, frozen forever this way. Or would I rotate right back out of Micah’s life?
Peg stood in the yard, fussing with a string of Christmas lights that inexplicably decorated her rose bushes. She waved us over and proceeded to pose us in various configurations: Micah with Eden, Micah with me and Eden, Micah with me.
Between shots, she stared at the camera, perplexed. “Howard, I don’t think this is working. I click it, but I don’t see a flash”
Howard didn’t look up from his paper. “Peg, it’s broad daylight. You don’t need a flash.”
I should have offered to take the pictures for her, but I got the feeling she enjoyed the whole ceremony of it. She pushed me next to Eden, saying, “I wish Adam could have been here. Where’d he go this time?”
Eden shrugged off Peg’s attempts to lay her hand on my arm. “He’s in Japan, Mom.”
Peg took three steps back and peered into the viewfinder. I cringed when she put her finger over the lens. “I don’t understand why he’d want to spend so much money to fly to Japan just to play music.” She snapped the picture and then held the camera a foot from her face. “Howard, the pictures are all pink, now.”
“Mom, they pay Adam to play music in Japan, too.”
Peg handed the camera to Howard to mess with. Howard laid down his paper and weighed in on the conversation. “Micah makes a good living, and he’s never gone for long. Why can’t Adam play closer to home?”
Eden’s lips were so firmly pinched, I thought she might pull a muscle in her face.
