Florie
“I think you should go see Mabel,” Daniel said.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“But what would you do?”
Daniel hugged her to him. “Well, I could help your mother in the kitchen. I could read a book. I could walk around town myself—”
Florie kissed him smack on the mouth. “Daniel Martin, I love you!” She tore herself out of his arms, blew him a kiss, and ran down the stairs. She took a moment to snag her coat from the hall banister, pulled it on, and sent a text to Mabel.
You’d better be home. I’m coming over. Now.
Mabel lived with her grandfather in a rambling old house on Lily Street, near the path down to the lily pond.
Florie walked there, which was easier than maneuvering a car around all the one-way streets and lanes.
Florie’s way was flanked by all the homes adorned for Christmas.
So many different, clever, gorgeous Christmas wreaths hung on the front doors!
Florie couldn’t help but cheer up. It was a good thing, she realized as she stomped along, that she was using up her angry energy so that when she confronted Mabel she would be only hurt and not absolutely, incredibly, righteously furious!
Florie strode up the path and raised her fist to pound on the front door. Mabel opened the door before Florie’s hand touched the wood.
“Pompom’s still in bed. You can come in if you can be quiet. If we sit in the kitchen, he won’t hear us.”
“And why wouldn’t I be quiet?” Florie asked through gritted teeth. “Because you didn’t tell me you are pregnant?”
Mabel snorted, turned her back, and led Florie down the long hall to the kitchen.
Florie opened her mouth to speak, but Mabel spoke first. “I was going to tell you, but you told me about your engagement and moving far away to Wyoming—”
“Wisconsin,” Florie said.
“Whatever.” Mabel waved her hand at a chair for Florie and sank into one facing her. “And I apologize for not telling you. But honestly, Florie, I was going to ask you to be my bridesmaid and the godmother for this baby, and now you won’t even be nearby.”
“Wisconsin isn’t the moon,” Florie said grumpily. “I can fly back all the time.”
“But it won’t be the same without you,” Mabel said, and her eyes filled with tears.
“I know, and I’m sorry, not sorry. I mean, I love Daniel so much and he loves me—but oh my God, Mabel, you’re going to have a baby!
” Florie burst into tears, so full of love and envy and even a bit of terror at the way she and her best friend were suddenly propelling themselves into the world of grown-ups.
Mabel rose and brought a box of tissues to the table. After she wiped her tears, she took a large bottle of fizzy water from the refrigerator and plonked it down in front of Florie with two glasses.
As Mabel filled her glass, she said, “This is all I can drink now. No alcohol. Nothing sweet. I can’t tell you how gassy I am all the time.” A very small, kind of cute fart escaped as she spoke, making both women laugh.
When she stopped laughing, Florie asked, “How does Coop feel about this?”
“He’s over the moon!”
“Tell me everything,” Florie begged.
And then they talked. When they’d drunk the bottle of fizzy water, Mabel made them some chamomile tea. They chattered away without stopping for almost two hours, until Mabel’s energy noticeably faded and she yawned so hard she almost fell out of her chair.
“I’d better go home,” Florie said. “But we’ve got planes and email and FaceTime, and we’ll text every day.”
“And Coop and I will fly out when you two have a wedding,” Mabel promised.
“And I’ll fly out when you have your baby,” Florie promised.
They hugged each other hard at the front door.
With her hand on the doorknob, Florie said, “Oh, Mabel. We really are grown-ups now.”
Mabel nodded. “And we’ll be fabulous grown-ups.”