Arianne steps backward, adjusting her collar. “Well, I—thank you, Loula Mae. That’s very—civil of you.”
“Well, I do try to be civil.” I back away and cover my mouth before something ugly creeps out from between my lips.
Nan picks up the box. “We sure are excited about the idea of a great-grandchild. Won’t you please do this? It will mean so much to me. I’d love to have this as a memento for his scrapbook.”
Nan shoves the box into Arianne’s hands.
Arianne looks at the EPT as though it just grew eight hairy legs and six eyes. “Well, I’ve already done a test. And the doctor confirmed the pregnancy.”
Nan smiles and laces her fingers beneath her chin, as though she’s begging. “Oh, please, won’t you do this for an old woman? I just love my scrapbooks, and this would be the perfect thing to have on the very first page of the book. We can follow it with sonogram pictures, and then pictures of you in labor. We’ll record the entire blessed event.”
Arianne’s face twists as she looks from Nan to Buck, and then her eyes seem to dart to each of the three cameras positioned around the room. “Are they recording right now?”
Trudi grins and over-exaggerates her nod. “Sure are. We don’t want to miss a moment.”
Buck steps toward Arianne. “How many weeks did you say you are now?”
Arianne dabs at the perspiration on her brow. “My, it’s warm in here, must be all these hormones. Can we turn the air down a bit?”
Buck asks again. “How many weeks was it?”
Arianne pushes out a great, noisy breath. “Ten. About ten weeks.”
Buck’s brow wrinkles as though he’s perplexed. “Well, there shouldn’t be any problem. I mean, you’ll pop positive on an early pregnancy test for sure. C’mon, Arianne. This is my Nan. It’s such a small little thing to pee on a stick.”
Arianne grabs her stomach. As though she’s in pain, her face pinches and turns red.
Her eyes fill with tears. “The truth is—well, Buck, I just didn’t have the heart to tell you. But…I think I might be miscarrying. I started spotting last night, and it’s only gotten worse today. I probably should go back to my hotel room and rest. I think I’m worn out all of the sudden.”
It’s like the whole world is holding its breath. No one moves except Arianne.
She backs toward the door, her eyes firmly on Buck. His face hardens the further from him she goes. Finally, she’s out the door, and it clicks into place. Still, no one makes a move until the roar of her Vette speeding out of the driveway fades in the distance.
Gotcha, Bitch.
Buck expels a giant sigh, and then with his next intake of air, his dimples deepen. “Ho-ly fuck.”
Trudi hops to her feet and raises her hand. I give her a high-five, and she throws her arms around me.
“It worked!” Buck grabs Trudi, swinging her around. “You are a fucking genius, woman!”
Buck dances Trudi around the room.
I hate to admit it, but I think I actually like Perky Trudi.
When Buck finishes dancing, his Nan and Pops hug him. Then he turns to me, holding out his hand.
I take his offered hand, and he drops to one knee. He must be overwhelmed.
I kneel in front of him, my heart bursting with happiness.
His brows knit. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just being with you. You must be so relieved.”
“I am. But stand back up.”
I throw my arms around his neck.
He puts his hands at my waist as he leans against me, whispering in my ear. “No, stand up.”
The room is once again completely devoid of sound or motion.
“What?” I pull out of Buck’s hold.
Three cameras are trained on Buck and me. Buck’s smile reminds me of a younger Buck. The way he’d grin when he’d push me on that old merry-go-round and then jump on, the world spinning into space while he and I held on tight for the ride.
I get to my feet, backing away from him.
No. Don’t.
But he pulls a small box from his pocket.
Now, it’s my mind that spins instead of the park ride.
I shake my head, slight at first, but then as he pushes the lid of the box up, turning it toward me, my movements get more pronounced. “No, no, no. Don’t.”
A sparkling solitaire the size of fucking New Orleans sits in that little blue box.
“Loula Mae Fontaine, I never stopped lov—”
My heart seizes, and all I can do is turn and flee.
TWENTY-EIGHT
My pulse slows to sluggishness as she slams the door.
I swallow the words flowing from my heart to my mouth. No one to say them to.
“Damn. I did not see that happening.” Trudi props her hands at her hips.