So I’m almost completely content with never knowing.
Almost.
“Did you move the pregnancy books?” Lucy asks, popping her head around the shelf I was working on tidying up.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot to tell you. They’re toward the front now, over by the self-help books. I didn’t think it was right to have them all the way in the back and on the bottom shelf. Makin’ it a little easier for the mamas-to-be and all, keepin’ them up front.”
“Gotcha!” she says, smile in place and pep in her damn step.
I shake my head and smirk.
“Holy shit! Leigh, it is her!”
I feel my jaw drop and quickly turn with a squeak. No way. I haven’t heard that voice or that name in years.
“Quinn!” I exclaim, placing my duster on the shelf and rushing forward to pull her into a hug about the same time I notice her round belly. “Oh my goodness, congratulations, Quinn!”
She pulls away, smiling and rubbing her swollen and very pregnant belly. “Thank you. I can’t believe it’s you. I thought I recognized your voice.”
“Caroline?!” I hear behind Quinn, and then Leighton James is pulling me into her arms, hugging me just as tight as I am her.
“Holy crap! You too!” I laugh, looking from belly to belly, my laughter growing. “I shouldn’t be surprised you two would be pregnant together. There wasn’t a thing y’all did without the other growin’ up! How close are your due dates?”
They both beam, then, simultaneously, exclaim, “A week!”
“Of course it is,” I say, laughing even harder at the fact that the two childhood best friends, both born within the same week, are pregnant with their babies due a week apart. “It sure is good to see you two.”
“Have you been livin’ in Wire Creek long?” Quinn asks, still stroking her belly. “I thought I heard you were in Houston. Or was it Dallas?” She looks at Leigh in question before focusing back on me.
I shake my head. “Austin, actually. I lived there after college but moved to Wire Creek a few years ago.”
“Never thought I’d see the day. You hightailed it outta here so quick I think you still had your cap and gown on from graduation.” Leighton laughs.
She isn’t wrong: I took it off on the road out of town and tossed it out the window. “What can I say? I was young and foolish.”
“Who was it you were datin’ back then?”
I know Quinn probably means the question as one of those toss-away ones old friends ask when they haven’t seen each other in over ten years, but if she only knew how deep it slices me. I take a deep breath and school my features. It’s in the past: no sense in bringing the details up to two girls whom I haven’t seen in too long—two girls who were my closest friends years ago.
“John Lewis,” I tell her, pretty damn proud of myself for keeping my voice even.
“God, Leigh, you remember John?” Quinn laughs. “You probably would’ve dated him too, had you not been all in love with Maverick back then. Hell, half the girls in school were in love with John, Mr. Quarterback himself.”
“He did have quite the following, didn’t he?” Leigh agrees, looking at me like she can read between the lines.
“So, who are the lucky men?” I ask, pointing to their bellies and changing the subject.
“You’ll never guess who that one finally landed,” Quinn jokes, pointing toward Leigh.
“No!” I squeak with excitement, catching on immediately. “Maverick?”
Leighton’s whole face lights up at the mention of Quinn’s older brother. Last I heard, he was on the rodeo circuit, making a big name for himself in the sport. “Finally wrangled me a cowboy.” She giggles.
“I’m so happy for you,” I tell her honestly.
“It wasn’t an easy road, but I love my grump.”
“You always did, honey,” Quinn says with a smile.
“And what about you, Quinn?”
“You remember Tate Montgomery?”
“The boy who used to spend his summers at his grandparents’? Sure I do. You two were practically joined at the hip. What did you do, get married right after the dust settled around me leavin’ town?” I laugh, but my smile slips when she doesn’t join in.
“Nah, took us a while and a lot of distance to realize where we belong, but we finally did. We got married last year. Shortly after I found out about this little one.” She points to her stomach with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
I sense a story that isn’t full of hearts and flowers and, knowing it’s time to steer the conversation away from that, I nod.