CHAPTER 69
Summer
A few days later, it’s one of our girls’-night-out events at Emma’s restaurant. It’s not open for dinner, so it’s just the MacLaine women. Phoebe is helping Emma in the kitchen while Victoria sets up our large booth, and Phyllis is quizzing Jasmine on her multiplication tables.
I’ve got nothing to do because no one in their right mind would want me to cook or set a table.
“What’s left to do for the wedding?” Victoria asks Phoebe when she and Emma come out with our food.
“Everything’s coming right along, but it feels weird,” Phoebe laughs. “I mean, Evander and I have already had all those commitment ceremonies!”
Emma rolls her eyes. “MacLaine men need their romance. It’s the weirdest thing, isn’t it? They can’t live without it.”
“It must be part of SEAL training,” Victoria says. “You know, right after treading water for eight hours in rough surf.”
“I want to marry a MacLaine man, but I’m already a MacLaine, so I can’t,” Jasmine complains.
“Hey, maybe you have a third or fourth cousin out there somewhere,” I tell her. Phyllis pinches my arm. “What?”
I slide into the booth and flinch.
“What’s wrong?” Phoebe asks, concerned. “Are you feeling twinges of pain? You should probably call Dr. Goldberg.”
“Nah, nothing like that. My boobs are a little sore, is all. I guess I’m getting my period. Finally! That surgery has really messed up my cycle.”
“Come on,” Phyllis says to Phoebe. “What are the latest details with the wedding plans?”
We all sit, and Emma begins to dish out the food. On the menu tonight is chicken Provencal with sides of mashed cauliflower, green beans almondine, salad, and hot French bread.
“Well, you know how the Travises like to celebrate,” Phoebe says.
“Nobody does Christmas like the Travis family. That’s for sure,” Phyllis says.
“Your mom makes the best Christmas cookies in the world,” Jasmine says.
Phoebe laughs. “Yes, and now she feels compelled to try her hand at wedding cookies. You know that my ceremony will be the first for all of us kids, and I’m the only daughter, so it might be the first and only wedding on Travis Ranch. I worry the whole thing is going to be totally overdone.”
“What are you saying?” Emma asks. “It’s going to be bigger than mine?”
“Nobody’s can be bigger than yours!” Victoria exclaims.
“I thought Finn was going to have a stroke organizing that wedding,” I say.
“What’s a stroke?” Jasmine asks.
Phyllis kicks me under the table. “It’s a dance,” I tell Jasmine, then turn my attention to Phyllis. “You’ve developed anger management issues,” I tell her.
“What are anger management issues?” Jasmine asks me.
“You should ask MeeMaw Phyllis.” I shove a fork of rich, tender chicken into my mouth and moan with pleasure. “Wow,” I tell Emma. “You’ve outdone yourself. Do you have any dill pickle spears to go with this?”
After dinner, I make an excuse to help Emma close up so that I can stick around after everyone leaves. When she locks up, I wave goodbye and pretend I’m getting in my truck. But really, I crouch down and watch her drive away.
When the coast is clear, I run across the street to the Sweetbriar Drug & Dime. It’s closed, but the owner lives upstairs, so I throw my shoe at the window. She opens it and stares down at me.
“Summer Stevens? Have you lost your damn marbles?”
“Sorry, Mrs. Elias! But can you open up real quick? It’s an emergency!”
Two minutes later, I’m making my purchases, furtively looking out the windows to be sure no one can see me.
“If you tell anyone, I swear I’ll tan your hide,” I tell her.
“Honey, if I talked about what I see in here on a daily basis, no one would believe me. Can I interest you in some rolling papers to go with?”
“No, but do you have a bathroom?”
I drive like a bat out of hell all the way home. I’m so distracted that I forget to turn off the truck engine when I park in the driveway. I have to run back out to shut it down and grab my keys. Finally, I make it inside.
“Hey, baby!” Declan shouts without turning around. “How was girls’ night out?”
“Great!”
“Bring anything back for me?”
“Nope. No food. Sorry.”
But maybe something else…
I casually stroll past him down the hallway to our master suite, and once I’m out of his line of sight, I sprint for the bathroom.
I already did this three times back in the lovely employee restroom at the Drug & Dime.
But those tests can't be right, right? I know I’ll be going through the process two more times, and I’m thinking about a third, but I find myself completely out of pee.
I wait the appropriate amount of time and check the results.
Oh.
Holy.
Fuckballs.
I wander out to the living room, grab the remote, and turn off the TV.
“Hey! It’s only the third quarter. It’s a replay of that great Cowboys game against the Chiefs from November.” He notices me staring at him. “Is it already trapeze night again?”
“Declan, I need your help.”
He suddenly straightens from his NFL-induced slouch, alert and frowning. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“You know what? I actually don’t know if I’m okay. Or sane. I don’t know what I am, to tell you the truth.”
He rests his elbows on his knees and stares up at me. “Huh?”
“I have something to show you.” One at a time, I slip five plastic wands from the back pocket of my jeans and smack them down on the coffee table. I point at them. “What the hell is this?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “Huh?” he asks again.
“Do you know what these are, Declan?”
“Swizzle sticks?”
“Yikes, flyboy. Take a closer look.”
He picks one of the wands off the table. “Pregnant? Who’s pregnant? Is it Emma? Victoria? Phoebe? All of them? Why did they take so many tests?”
I breathe out slowly. Then I reach for the hem of my shirt and yank it off straight over my head. Then I remove my bra. “Come over here and poke my boobs.”
“So it is trapeze night!”
I roll my eyes. But I can’t be too upset that he’s clueless. This isn’t even supposed to be possible for us.
“Wait,” he says, grinning. “Are we doing a wedding ceremony role-play?”
“Fine—I’ll poke my own boobs if I have to.” So I do, then try to sound surprised. “Ow! They hurt. They’re so swollen. I wonder why that is!”
Declan jumps up from the couch and nearly falls over the coffee table to get to me. He grabs me by my upper arms and stares down into my face, his violet eyes wide and his mouth open. He shakes himself awake. “Those are yours?”
“Yep.”
“You peed on them?”
“I did.”
“But…” I see the gears in his brain turning. “You’re sure?”
“Am I sure that I peed on them?”
“No! I mean… could they be wrong?”
“That’s what I’m asking you! But I took five tests. They’re all positive. So I need you to tell me if I’m crazy.”
“I…” Declan can’t speak.
“I’m pregnant, aren’t I?”
“Summer, are you pregnant?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.” We’re getting nowhere. I grab on to his hands and grip them hard. “Declan, I’m totally serious. Tell me what the actual fuck is happening. Am I pregnant?”
We both turn our heads to eye the lineup of positive pregnancy tests on the coffee table. Then we turn back to each other. He stares at me, dumbstruck.
“But I can’t be pregnant, right?” I ask him. “Declan, you were right next to me when Dr. Goldberg told us it was impossible.”
He snaps to attention. “He didn’t say that. He told us that in his professional opinion you couldn’t get pregnant. Maybe he’s a clueless hack.”
“But he’s supposed to be the best ovary guy in the country!”
“Summer, if you’re pregnant, then maybe I’m the best ovary guy in the country!”
“Declan. What should we do?”
“We get you to a doctor to be sure.”
“Right. We should keep it to ourselves until we’ve gotten a bunch of tests, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“So, we just keep this between the two of us for now.”
“Agreed. How far along are you, do you think?”
I try to pin it down, but I really have no way of knowing. “We’ve been having a lot of sex, Declan.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I wasn’t pregnant when I had my surgery, and then there was that two-week dry spell.”
“Tell me about it.”
“And then I ran off and you came after me. So that night in Lompoc going forward, I guess.”
“That night was great,” he says.
“It really was.”
“Summer?” Declan traces his fingertip along my jaw and tips up my chin. He drops his mouth on mine, and gives me the most intense, heartfelt kiss I think I’ve ever had. I wonder if it will always be like this for us, so impossibly good. So true.
Something wet falls on my cheek. My husband is crying.
And then so am I.
I jump into his arms and swing my legs around his hips, and he kisses my throat, my chest, the tops of my breasts, even though it hurts a bit.
“I love you so much, Summer. So much. You’re my whole world.”
I grab the back of his head with my hands and pull him into me. He spins me around in the living room and I lean back in his arms, my hair flying. And then we both start screaming with delight.
The front door opens without warning.
Declan drops me to the floor and throws my shirt over my naked top half. I shove my arms in the sleeves and pull it over my head, then jump to a stand. We both stare at the entryway in stunned silence as Special K walks in.
“Bad time?” he asks.
We both break out into guffaws.
He purses his lips, uncomfortable with our slap-happy laughter.
“I’m pregnant!” I blurt out.
“Summer’s pregnant!” Declan screams. “We’re going to have a baby!”
Special K nods. “Congrats. You guys got any sliced turkey over here?”