Christmas in Wishful, page 32
One corner of Miranda’s mouth quirked up. “If you heard some of the jokes we made about this thing in medical school… No, this is the transducer. At this stage, the baby wouldn’t be big enough to see with an external sonogram. So, in we go. Lean on back and try to relax.”
Norah settled back, staring at the panels of the drop ceiling as Miranda prattled on in an attempt to distract her as she turned on the machine.
“If you’re correct about your last missed period, you should be about ten weeks. That would make a baby about an inch and a half long.”
Norah closed her eyes at the pressure and took slow, even breaths. It would be fine. Whatever there was to see, Miranda would see it.
But as she lay there, waiting, Miranda said nothing, just continued to shift the transducer around.
“Huh.”
Norah’s throat tightened. “I knew it. It was another false positive, wasn’t it?”
“No. No, you’re definitely pregnant.”
“I am? Really?” The tears and tenuous hope she’d been battling back broke free.
“Oh yeah.” But Miranda’s tone sounded off somehow, and she was still moving the transducer.
“Oh God. Is something wrong? Something’s wrong.” Of course there was. She’d known something wasn’t right.
“No. No.” Miranda laid a hand on her ankle. “Stop panicking. Everything looks good. Healthy.”
The touch, the words, grounded her. Norah took a few moments simply to breathe and let it soak in. She was pregnant for real this time. It was sticking. It was healthy. She’d gotten her wish.
But she’d known Miranda for too many years to let that tone go. “If everything looks good, why do you sound so weird?”
“Let’s just say you’re going to have a helluva surprise for Cam this Christmas.”
Frowning, Norah opened her eyes and propped herself up so she could see her friend. “What are you talking about?”
Miranda smirked. “See for yourself.”
Norah shifted to see the screen she’d been avoiding. As the black and white image came clear, her mouth dropped open. “Holy shit.”
“Cam, honey, you are jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. What is the matter?” Grammy demanded.
That was the damned problem. He didn’t know.
As ordered, he’d followed the rest of the family to Aunt Liz and Uncle Pete’s after Wishful Wonderland. But Norah and Miranda still hadn’t made it, and neither was responding to texts. Where the hell were they?
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. What was he going to say? They hadn’t told the family they were trying for a baby, and after the miscarriage, Norah had been adement she didn’t want to bring it up unless there was something to actually tell. Did he admit his concerns? Or did he come up with some way to redirect the conversation?
Before he had to decide, the front door opened. Cam was across the living room like a shot, intercepting his wife almost before she could get inside. “Where have you been? I was worried.”
She shrugged out of her coat, hanging it and her purse on a hook by the door. “Miranda texted you.”
“Yeah, like an hour ago.” He scanned her face. She’d done her best to erase the evidence, but he could tell she’d been crying. Gut clenching, he looked to his cousin for some kind of answers. But Miranda, who’d slipped in behind her, was poker-faced.
Closing the distance to his wife, he cupped his hands beneath her elbows. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
The frustration that had been dogging him for weeks simply boiled over. “You’ve been saying nothing and ‘I’m fine’ for weeks. Obviously things are not fine, and it’s not nothing. What the hell is going on, Norah? What were you and Miranda doing?”
“We were at the clinic.”
Fresh worry punched through him. Had she had some kind of complication? Was there some problem her regular doctor hadn’t found? Had she had another miscarriage and not told him? As his brain spun one horrible scenario after another, he had to force himself not to let them all spill out.
“What’s. Wrong?” He bit the words out. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it, okay? What is it? Do you need a specialist? We’ll go to—”
Amusement broke through her even expression. “Cam. Stop freaking out. I’ve already done enough of that for the both of us. We’re fine.”
He started to babble something else, then stopped as her words sank in. His throat went suddenly dry. Did she mean the two of them were fine? Or was she adding to the we? “We? Like we?”
Her smile bloomed like a sunrise, wiping out the shadows that had haunted her eyes for months. She laid a hand on her belly. “We.”
His brain was stuck on that single word, and he had to confirm, absolutely, that he understood. To hell with their audience. “You’re pregnant?”
Her smile dialed straight on to a grin. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God.” It was happening. It was real! Cam picked her straight up and whirled her around, dimly registering exclamations from the rest of the family. He couldn’t focus on anything but Norah.
She was laughing, squeezing his shoulders as he spun. “Put me down, Campbell.”
He did, but he didn’t let her go. “You’re okay? Everything’s fine with the baby?”
“About that.” Some of the bright in her eyes dimmed. She bit her lip.
His wife was never hesitant. She was never uncertain. She was absolutely fearless about almost everything. The hesitation had Cam’s radar pinging all over again.
“What? What is it?” Was there something wrong? Could they already tell that this soon? She didn’t seem upset, but hell, he hadn’t been able to read her properly for weeks.
She held something out to him. No, not something. A photograph. He took it automatically, staring at the black and white image, trying to make sense of the blobs and shapes. Holy crap, was this a sonogram? Was he supposed to be able to read this?
He looked up, met Norah’s big brown eyes.“I don’t understand.”
Her hands twisted together. “You know how I’m never happy unless I’m being an overachiever about literally everything?”
“Yeah?” What did that have to do with anything?
“Applies here, too.”
Frowning, he studied the image closer. There. That was definitely something that was maybe sort of kinda baby shaped. Big head and maybe little, tiny arms? And the picture seemed to have some kind of echo or double exposure thing going on.
Wait.
Understanding dawned. “Is that—are there…?” He stared at his wife. His tiny, five foot, four inch Wonder Woman.
She offered up a nervous smile. “We’re having twins.”
“Twins?” The word squeaked out. “Like, two? At once?”
“Surprise?”
Cam’s breath wheezed out, along with all the starch in his knees. “I need to sit down.” His legs began to fold, without much input from his brain. Then he bolted to his feet again. “You need to sit down!” He solved the matter by scooping Norah straight off her feet and sinking down on the nearest chair. “Oh my God. Holy shit. Twins.”
“I know it wasn’t the plan.”
Struggling to catch his breath, he tightened his arms around her. “Screw the plan. The best things in my life haven’t been planned. You weren’t. Why should this be any different?”
At her watery, “Oh,” he looked up and felt his heart stop at the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Honey. What did I say? I’m sorry. I know you love your plans. We’ll make a new one. We’ll figure it out. I’ll buy you all the pens and bulletin boards.”
She gave a soggy laugh. “I’m not upset. It’s hormones. Lots and lots of hormones. I’m a sieve.” Pressing her brow to his, she sniffed. “But I really want the pens and bulletin boards.”
Relieved—and terrified—beyond measure, he would have promised her anything. “As many as you want.”
“I love you, Campbell.”
“Can we get in on this love fest?” his mom asked. “Because I’m going to be a grandmother, and I really need to hug you four!”
Stay tuned for a sneak peek of a brand new series launching January 2021!
Bonus Scene From a Future Shero
Livia Applewhite
The Wishful town green teemed with goblins, ghouls, witches, and a multitude of Disney characters as the fourth annual Pumpkinpalooza hit full swing. From her position manning the entrance to the hay maze, Livia Applewhite watched as pint-sized tots attempted to wind their way through the aisles to the other side, many with the coaching of their much taller parents who stood at the periphery.
“You’re doing great, Parker,” Myles Stuart called to his toddling daughter. “Now go to your left. No, no, honey. Your left. Your other left.”
Parker, sporting an adorable bumblebee costume, turned right and toddled back to another juncture.
Beside Livia, Myles’ wife, Piper, couldn’t seem to suppress a smile. “It’s not so different from mice in a psychology experiment, is it?”
Livia snickered. “I mean, you’re the one who compared the kids to rodents.”
“It’s an apt comparison. Parker will do literally anything for cheese.” At her feet, their family dog, Loaf, a squat mutt with corgi somewhere in his family tree, plopped his butt down and looked up in adoration. “So will this one.”
“Follow the Elsa, baby!”
Parker zeroed in on the blonde wig of a slightly older child who was navigating the maze with ease and toddled as fast as her little legs would carry her. And they carried her right into a hay bale, face first. On a squeak of surprise, she stumbled back, landing on her diaper-clad butt. Then came the wail.
“Oh, boy.”
Myles vaulted the waist-high wall of hay bales and scooped up his daughter, cuddling her close. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”
Piper moved over to join them, laying a hand on her daughter’s back, murmuring in a soothing voice. The three of them made a unit, a beautiful little family bursting with love and adoration. The sight filled Livia with both warmth and yearning. She’d imagined that would be her by now, well into the next phase of her life, starting the next generation of family.
“Did that mean hay bale poke you in the face?” Myles asked.
Parker nodded tear-stained cheeks.
Piper pressed a kiss to her dark curls. “Would ice cream make it better?”
A more vigorous nod from the child.
On a friendly wave, they wandered off, presumably to Lickety Split.
“Miss Livia! Miss Livia!”
With a ready smile in place, she turned to the bouncing boy covered in silver-painted boxes with a funnel on his head. She squinted through the makeup, as if she didn’t immediately recognize Braden Neeley from his weekly attendance at her story time at the library. “Why hello! Aren’t you a long way from Oz?”
The boy giggled. “It’s me, Miss Livia. It’s Braden.”
“I thought it was the Tin Man!”
“I am! I made the costume myself.” He turned a clumsy circle, nearly beaning another child with his plastic pumpkin.
“You look very convincing. Are you here to do the maze? There are cookies on the other side.”
“I am in!” He dove into the maze, jogging through with gusto.
“Careful not to run into anyone else!” Livia called after him.
“How’s the crowd?”
Livia turned to face her brother. “Steady and picking up. What took you so long?”
Jace shrugged. “Got caught by the Casserole Patrol on the other side of the green.”
His wife, Tara, slid an arm around his waist. “You know how they are.”
“Mmm,” Livia murmured, reflecting that it hadn’t been the town’s favorite busybodies who’d put that flush in her sister-in-law’s cheeks or the heated look in her eyes. She wondered if they’d taken a detour to Tara’s dance studio for some newlywed private time. That was harder to come by at home at the moment, what with the fact that they shared the house with her and both of Tara’s younger siblings. Not an ideal love nest, but since Tara had custody of Austin and Ginny, and the torch for the farm had been officially passed to Livia and Jace from their parents, they’d all had enough changes for a while.
“Why don’t you let us take over?” Jace suggested. “Make the rounds. Get some hot cider.”
“I won’t say no.” She could use the chance to stretch her legs.
Abandoning the maze, she slipped into the crowd, weaving her way through families and clusters of children. Businesses all along the green offered trick or treating for the kids, with storefronts and windows decorated in spooktastic splendor. Along the green proper, stalls had been set up, offering more games and activities. She spotted Corinne and Tucker McGee grinning as their son Kurt popped up, face dripping, with one of the round, ripe apples from her family’s orchard in his mouth. Mitch and Tess Campbell occupied a couple of chairs at the face painting tent with their daughter Vivi. The matching whiskers and kitty cat noses had Livia’s lips twitching. More familiar faces from her story time group crowded around the witch hat ring toss and pin the tail on the werewolf. She called out and returned greetings from children and parents alike as she continued toward the far side of the green, where The Daily Grind was selling hot cider. Everyone knew her here. She’d always loved that about her little hometown. Loved being part of the fabric of this place and all the lives being made here. But a nagging sense of discontent dogged her as she joined the queue. How could she feel so welcome and so alone at the same time?
She shoved both hands into the pockets of her fleece vest, hunching her shoulders against the chill. Mississippi hadn’t hit what constituted true fall weather yet, but the temperatures were dropping with the sun. Up ahead, Mary Alice Phillips leaned into her new husband’s embrace. That she’d landed one of Wishful’s most eligible bachelors had been the talk of the town for months. More than one single female had bemoaned the loss of Dr. McHottie, but Livia hadn’t been one of them. She was too grateful for the fact that he’d saved her father’s life after his heart attack. The heart attack that had sped along his plans for retirement by several years.
Glancing away from the happy picture they made, Livia caught sight of another pairing that had her eyebrows lifting. Molly Montgomery, future mother-in-law of one of Livia’s best friends, was strolling along arm in arm with Sam Edison, dad of another former high school classmate. Both had been long-time widows, and neither had dated to Livia’s knowledge. Did Molly’s son Liam and Sam’s daughter Tyler know this was happening?
As they slipped into line behind her, Molly shot Livia a smile. “Hi, Livia.”
“Hey Molly. Mr. Edison. Are y’all enjoying the festival?”
“Absolutely. I can’t believe Norah pulled this off with the twins only being three months. It’s the best one yet.”
Livia laughed. Their city planner was known for going above and beyond. “I’m pretty sure she did most of the planning before they got here.”
“Sure did,” Sam confirmed. “Tyler helped Cam design a whiteboard they could roll over the bed to keep her from going crazy on bed rest those last couple months.”
There wasn’t much Norah’s husband wouldn’t do to make her happy.
“How’re your folks doing?” Molly asked. “I haven’t seen them around in a while.”
Livia was surprised the news hadn’t made it all over town yet. “Well, they’re officially retired as of beginning of September.”
“Oh! I hadn’t heard that.”
“Yeah. They had to stick so close to home all these years running the farm, so they bought a fifth wheel and are checking out all the places they never got to go for vacation, working their way through all the national parks. Jace and I are really pleased Dad was finally willing to hand over the reins to us so they could do it.” That would stop feeling weird after a while, right?
“Good for them! John and I always talked about doing something like that once the kids were grown.” As a brief shadow passed over Molly’s face, Sam reached out to press a hand to the small of her back. She shifted her weight, leaning into the touch.
Oh yeah, that was going to be all over town by end of the weekend.
They kept up small talk until Livia reached the front of the line and ordered her cider. Barista Daniel Palmer manned the station with his long-term beau, Christoff Bergan.
Daniel accepted her money. “How goes your evening, Madam Librarian?”
“Can’t complain.” Which was the truth. She had her health, her family, and a job she loved at least half the time. That was more than many people had. But loneliness reared up to nip her in the heart again as she collected her cider and passed a half dozen other couples. All friends. All blissfully in love.
Needing the chance to breathe, she slipped into the gap between two tents, making her way along the narrow path, away from the revelers.
Was she doomed to be alone?
It sure as hell felt that way. Her relationship history had been one long line of guys who hadn’t stuck around. None of them had been cruel. Few had lasted long enough for her to even get truly attached. She supposed she was lucky to only have one real heartbreak in her past, and first love was generally doomed not to last. At least Declan hadn’t been from around here, so she didn’t have the constant reminder of him having moved on with someone else. She didn’t even know where he was now. Probably married with kids, another of those stupidly in love couples that made her feel like an outsider. A healthy sense of self preservation and a desire to hang on to the nostalgia of that long-ago summer in Tennessee had kept her from searching him out on social media or asking her cousin Abbey to find out for her.
But maybe the fact that her only serious relationship had been at eighteen and away from here was a sign. Nothing in her life had turned out quite like she’d expected, and it felt like all the good guys were gone. No one left single here actually looked at her as a woman. At least, none of the ones she might want. What if she was finally down to the point of having to choose between home and the possibility of love?
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