“I suppose there’s a biological instinct,” I mused, but in truth, I didn’t push very hard at all because I don’t actuallywanta home birth. As I said, we’re not quite inLittle House on the Prairieterritory yet, even if Emmy birthed all seven of hers at home.
But that’s a worry for another day, I tell myself, because today’s worry is keeping my job. And trying to figure out how to handle my father’s friendship withJolene. Of course, as far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing for me to handle. All he said on the car ride home, despite my attempt to ask for information in an oh-so casual way, was, “She’s a friend I met through PT. She lost her husband three years ago. She’s from Charleston.” And that was it.
Later that night, I told Josh about this development, somewhat reluctantly because I knew he wouldn’t feel the unease I was obviously exhibiting.
“He has a friend?” he remarked as he folded back our duvet. “Great.” He made it seem so simple.
“Her name’sJolene.” I gave the name the kind of emphasis that made Josh raise his eyebrows.
“Abby,” he warned as he climbed into bed, “you might be starting to sound like a snob.”
“A snob!” I was faux outraged because, secretly, I agreed with him. I picked up my pillow and plumped it with more force than was strictly needed. “I’m sure she’s very nice,” I said, so dubiously that Josh let out a shout of laughter.
“Mmm. Okay.”
“It’s just…” I put the pillow down on the bed and stared at him in appeal. “What if they get married?”
Josh cocked his head. “I think you might be jumping the gun a little here.”
“I know, but my dad doesn’t make a lot of friends, especiallyladyfriends,” I protested. “He didn’t have any such friends back in Pennsylvania.”
“That you know of,” Josh pointed out.
I acknowledged the truth of that with a grimace.
“Just let him have a friend,” Josh said gently as he slid down in the bed, tucking the duvet over him, ready for sleep. “Let him have a life besides playing with our kids and watchingMidsomer Murders. Not that those aren’t good things… but your dad was pretty active back in Bucks County, and I know he doesn’t want his diagnosis to slow him down any more than it has to.”
“Yes, but…” I nibbled my lip, still unconvinced. My dad was shaky on his feet—even if he’d been jitterbugging—and had some pretty noticeable memory lapses. Plus, sometimes he couldn’t do things like brush his hair or button his shirt up properly.
Was he really in the right place for a relationship? What if Jolene took advantage of him? I knew Josh would say I was being ridiculous and unfair, so I kept those thoughts to myself. And, if I was honest, I also knew that my concerns sprang from a sense of fear that my dad wouldn’t need me as much as he had been, which was absurd and childish, but when it comes to our parents, maybe we never truly grow up.
Something to keep in mind when dealing with Bethany, I reflect as I pull into the Kroger parking lot. She’s been packing up her stuff to move to Miss Barbara’s, and for some reason, it feels so final. William, Jack, and Rose all asked if they could have her room.
“You already have your own room,” I pointed out to Rose, who pouted.
“Yes, but Bethany’s is bigger.”
“And we have toshare,” Jack said in the sort of aggrieved tone that suggested he and his brother were subject to deprivations usually known only by Victorian orphans and war refugees.
“You’ll manage,” I told him shortly, and he let out a long-suffering sigh. A few months ago, he might have kicked up a fuss, but now he let it go after just a sigh and went to help Josh out in the barn. My children really are growing up… in all sorts of ways.
Inside the grocery store, a few people are strolling down the aisles with carts, but it feels pretty empty, so it seems like a good time to talk to Cara before my shift starts. I’m wearing my company-issue blue polo shirt with the Kroger insignia and a pair of khakis that no longer zip up. Fortunately, they’re hidden by my apron, but I’m going to have to invest in some maternity khakis before too long.
That is, if I still have my job.
“Cara?” I smile at my manager, who is sitting in the cubbyhole that is the office, off the checkouts.
“Abby. Aren’t you starting work?”
“Yes, I just wanted to chat with you for a sec.” I smile, trying to seem friendly and capable, which hopefully isn’t too hard.
“Okay.” Cara pops her gum, a habit I find annoying, considering employees aren’t supposed to chew gum.
“It’s just… Elliot mentioned that he’d heard I was leaving?” I raise my eyebrows like I’m inviting her to share the joke.Ha ha, how ridiculous! She doesn’t so much as crack a smile, just gives me a flat stare that makes me feel decidedly uneasy. “And I’m not?” I finish, my voice lilting upwards when I meant it to come out like a statement.
“Well… you’re pregnant,” Cara points out, as if it’s something I don’t know.
“Yes, but I’m not due for over four months,” I reply reasonably. “And I was planning to work right up to my delivery date and then come back after a… a little time off. So…” I consider mentioning the Family and Medical Leave Act, but I don’t know enough about it except that employers can’t fire you for being pregnant.
