Mom hadn’t said much today. She’d invited Dara for lunch, and Dara had needed a break from work anyhow, but her mother had given her no indication over the phone that this would be one of those long, silent meals.
Avoiding her mother’s eyes, she studied the familiar pastel wallpaper and the faded blue curtains that had framed the window above the sink for as long as she could remember. The pastures beyond the window were overgrown now, the little three-stall barn starting to fall into disrepair. So many memories in that place—what a shame.
And that train of thought wasn’t depressing at all.
She pulled her gaze away from the barn and back into the kitchen but still didn’t look at Mom. That probably wouldn’t help matters, though. Her pregnancy wasn’t showing yet, but her guilty conscience probably was—her mother could tell at a glance from a hundred paces if Dara was hiding something.
And, oh boy, was she hiding something. She wasn’t ready to tell her mother she was pregnant. The divorce had been difficult enough for Mom to swallow; one thing at a time. And not just for Mom’s benefit, either. By Matt’s own admission, Dara’s parents weren’t as difficult to deal with as the Coolidges, but that was like saying morning sickness wasn’t as difficult to deal with as food poisoning or chemo—it didn’t make her wish for death, but it still sucked.
“So.” Mom folded her hands behind her empty plate. “How are you enjoying being back in town?”
“It’s nice. So much quieter than Los Angeles.”
“Well. That isn’t surprising.” Mom had only come to visit a couple of times over the years, and she’d never had many kind things to say about LA. “Have you settled into your new place?”
“Sort of. I have my office set up, but I’ve been working so much, I haven’t had time to finish with the rest of the house.”
Her mother scowled. “You’re not working yourself too hard, are you?”
Dara shook her head. “No. I had to catch up a little from moving, but my clients have all been patient. I’m almost caught up now.” She smiled. “Just busy.” And taking mornings off to heave my guts out.
The scowl didn’t change.
“Busy is a good thing, Mom.”
“Yes, but…” Her mother idly rotated her teacup on the saucer. “Maybe if you rented a less expensive place. Do you really need a house? An apartment, or our back bedroom would—”
“I can afford my place just fine. I promise.” And there’s no way in hell I’m moving into the back bedroom. “Money isn’t an issue. The only reason I’m not buying a house right now is I want to wait until the divorce is completely finalized.”
Mom shifted uncomfortably, long nails clicking on the sides of her teacup. “And the divorce is, um, coming along?” Her lip curled as if the words tasted foul on her tongue.
“Slowly. Just a lot of paperwork and proceedings.”
“I see. Well, I suppose it’s just as well you don’t have to go through the process of changing your name.” Though she was probably attempting to find a silver lining, Mom’s tone negated all that. She never had forgiven Dara for refusing to take either husband’s name.
“It’s one less step to go through now,” Dara said quietly.
“Mmhmm.” Mom picked up her tea, and she watched Dara over its rim. She was thinking something—Dara knew that look. Wheels were turning, and the conversation was about to go from uncomfortable to unbearable.
She squirmed under her mother’s scrutiny. “What?”
Her mom broke eye contact and sipped her tea. She set the cup down with a delicate clink and folded her hands again on the edge of the table. “So how far along are you?”
“How—what?”
The exasperated sigh was one she’d heard a million times as a kid, and it grated on her now just the same. “You’ve been home less than a month, and you’ve gone up at least two cup sizes.”
Dara glanced down at her chest. So much for not showing, as it were. And so much for keeping this quiet until she and Matt had a game plan. Immediately, a lump tried to rise in her throat, but she forced it back and cursed these fucking hormones. “Almost ten weeks.”
“I didn’t think you were able to have children.” Her mother’s voice had softened now, thank God. “Didn’t the chemo…”
Dara nodded. “The doctors told me back then that the treatment was almost guaranteed to leave me sterile. So I, um, had some eggs frozen.”
Her mom’s eyebrows jumped. “You never said anything.”