Page 92 of Never Forever
Oh, yeah, I also might be cooking a baby in my uterus.
I kept the words behind my lips. I knew if I told her she’d freak. The plan was never to tell Mom and Gran until I was actually pregnant, and maybe not until I went into labor. Mom would worry about how pregnancy would impact my career, and Gran would start telling me about every horror story she’d heard about babies eating their twins in the womb.
And the last thing I was going to do was tell them Imightbe pregnant with Matt Sullivan’s baby. They’d lose their mind.
“Oh honey, are you sure? Annie is much better at the organizational stuff.”
“Just because the girl can make a spreadsheet doesn’t make her better at everything,” I grumbled.
“She’s not better at everything,” Mom said. “There are things only you can do.”
“Like what?” Was I fishing for a compliment from my complicated mother? Yes. Sue me.
She smiled beautifully into my face like she was glad I asked. “Light up a room. Engage every person so they feel special. Make small talk with very boring men. Transform yourself. Bring a story to life. Play-”
I laughed and pulled her into my arms, cutting her off. “Okay, I get it. You love me.”
“I do,” Mom said, surprising me. Her voice suddenly serious. “I do love you. Even when I’m pushy. I know that I am bossy, but I just want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“And it worked. I don’t say thank you enough for that. You helped me get everything I ever wanted. And then some, Mom.” I kissed her cheek with a loud smack. “I love you too.”
“All right, enough with all of that.” Emotion made her uncomfortable.
Gran stepped out onto the porch carrying a lamp and looking like she was ready for a fight.
“Oh Lord,” Mom moaned. “Not the lamp again.”
“Gran,” Annie said, following Gran out to the mountain of suitcases. “We’ve talked about this-”
“You’ve talked about it,” Gran shot back. She was wearing a very cute pair of turquoise flowy capri pants, a black tunic and bright pink earrings. Both Mom and Gran were flying off this island in full color regalia.
“They have lamps. Everywhere you go, there will be lamps,” Annie said and shot me a help me please look.
“You don’t need a lamp, Gran” I told her. “I promise.”
Gran looked at me with full disdain. The lamp was one of the old Tiffany lamps. Worth a couple thousand dollars at least. Just one of the many Piedmont relics that barely made sense.
“I have turned this light off beside my bed every single night of my life except for one that I don’t care to talk about.”
“Her wedding night,” Mom muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
“I took it with me to boarding school,” Gran said. “And it’s going with me now.”
“Hmm. Her parents wanted to fix her,” Mom whispered. “She only lasted a week.”
“Fix what?” I asked. Gran was perfect in every way.
“Stop. We’re not talking about that,” Gran said, her light blue eyes all steely and resolute. “We’re talking about my lamp. I won’t leave it here to be broken or forgotten or…”
“No one is going to break it,” Annie tried to assure her.
“It is a Tiffany lamp,” I said. “Maybe I’ll sell it.”
Annie groaned. Gran gasped.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” I said, and stepped forward to hug poor Gran who was beyond worked up. “Gran, I know this is hard for you, but you know it’s for the best.”
“You have no idea,” she said, clutching the lamp.