“I’ll be at the restaurant early tomorrow morning,” Lauren said as she carried the salad bowl to the dining room table. The table was already set for five. Lauren went about removing Matthieu’s and Lisa’s settings. “I can handle everything so she can take the day off and just rest and stay in bed.”
“And what about this event you’re catering tomorrow?” her dad demanded gruffly, following her into the small, plain dining room with its faded lavender-sprigged wallpaper and oak trim. “How are you going to do that?”
“Easily.” She put the extra dishes in her mother’s china hutch, the silverware in the chest, and was sliding the place mats into the hutch’s drawer when she glanced at her father over her shoulder. His broad, weathered face was creased, his bushy gray eyebrows drawn. “I’m serious, Dad.” She softened her tone, went to him, putting a hand on his arm. “The shopping’s done. Everything’s organized. I’ve got the staffing—”
“Not the restaurant’s servers?”
“No. My catering staff. The ones I use for outside events.”
“And the rentals?”
She squeezed his arm. “Booked and being delivered tomorrow morning right to Meg’s house.”
“What about all the cooking?”
“I’ve got that under control, too.” Lauren rose up on tiptoe, kissed his cheek. “Relax. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
No, it wasn’t her first rodeo, but she wasn’t entirely comfortable doing all the cooking and prep for the reception without Lisa to assist her. Things, though, were what they were, and Lauren, not Lisa, had been the one to make the commitment to Meg.
She would make it work. She’d find a way. And no matter how stressful it might be tomorrow, it was only a day. It’d pass. She’d survive. Experience had taught her that.
After dinner, Lauren washed the dishes and stayed up late, making small talk with her parents. Her mom was the first to turn in.
“Aren’t you tired?” her dad asked as the clock on the mantel chimed eleven. “You’ve been up since four.”
“I’ll go to bed soon,” she answered, kissing him good night and then listening as he locked all the doors and walked down the hall to his room.
Lauren changed the TV channels, trying to find something to watch.
Her eyes felt gritty and dry. Her head ached. She was tired. She’d slept badly last night, but she dreaded turning off the TV and going to bed in her parents’ house. It was easier here than at Grandma’s house, which was actually still her house, filled with her clothes and Blake’s things, which was why she was staying here and not there.
But still . . .
Still.
Lauren changed the channels again. No murder programs. No scary horror things. She needed safe, she needed soothing, she went to the Food Network.
But she couldn’t stay focused. Her attention wandered from the cake competition on the TV to the framed pictures on the wall of the living room.
Lisa’s baby picture.
Lauren’s baby picture.
Blake’s.
Christ.
She forced her gaze back to the TV, aware that there were other framed photos on that wall, too. Lisa’s high school graduation photo. Lauren’s. But not Blake’s. Because Blake would never graduate.
Lauren turned off the TV and headed to her room, knowing that there were no photos there to haunt her. She’d made sure of that earlier.
In her pajamas, she turned out the lights, climbed into bed, willing herself to sleep.
Instead she thought of Blake. This had been his room, their room. Her dad had painted it yellow and put the Toys “R” Us crib in the corner.
For four years she and Blake had shared this room. It had been so hard for both of them, getting him used to his own room when they moved to Grandma’s house. Lauren missed sleeping near him. Missed the sounds he made in his sleep. Missed hearing him breathe at night.
Lauren turned over in bed, dragged the pillow against her chest.
It’d been such a shock to find out she was pregnant. It was still the beginning of her junior year in high school, and she’d only just turned seventeen a few weeks earlier. She hadn’t been worried at first when she was late. She was often late. But as the weeks passed, she got nervous. Scared. She didn’t tell anyone, not even Lisa, who was away at college, a freshman at UC Irvine. Just hoped against hope her period would come.
It didn’t.
Lauren took the pregnancy test the day before the big homecoming parade and game. Positive.
She wanted to call John Meeks, her boyfriend, immediately, needing to talk, needing his support, but she knew even before she called him what he’d tell her to do.