“For me?”
Bridget patted her forearm and winked at her. “Of course.” Camilla wanted to just stand there and hug the little woman. They’d been playing the game of ‘is-she-pregnant-or isn’t-she?’ since the night before. “Quinten was my late-in-life-baby, and I’ve prayed that he would find a nice girl since he was a babe in my arms.” She smiled at Camilla, and she had to fight tears of her own when Bridget’s kind eyes reddened and her lip quivered. “And I think he done good. They both did,” she whispered with a wink and a nudge.
Camilla blushed to the roots of her hair. They’d been careful to not be obvious with that aspect of their relationship, but Bridget must’ve seen more than she let on.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I may be old, but I’m not dead. And I do have eyes. You obviously love them both very much. I think it’s wonderful…the thought of having two men love you, who are there for you. And the reality is that you’ll be less lonely when you’re old, if one passes. Oh…don’t mind my morbidity. I’m just an old woman trying to get into heaven.” Bridget flapped her hand as she glanced surreptitiously at Camilla and sniffed.
Camilla chuckled. “You’re not fooling me, Bridget. You’re ageless.” Quinten’s mother was spryer than she let on as they walked together.
“Crap, I was hoping the old woman act might fool you into spilling it.”
Camilla gave Bridget her best innocent look. “Spill what?”
Bridget snorted and then motioned at a display of high heels. “In my day, I owned heels like that in every color. I told Bill that when I die I want to be laid out in my best evening dress and the highest heels he can find.”
Camilla giggled and said, “I should show you my collection sometime.”
“With our height issues, every inch counts, right?”
Camilla nodded and put her arm around Bridget, feeling such kinship with her.
They spent a pleasant half hour wandering around the department store, finding Christmas gifts for loved ones. They were in the baby department, where she was shopping for something for Rosemary’s baby, which was due in February, and Rachel’s son, Levi, who had just turned a year old.
“What about this?” Bridget said, handing her a velvety-soft sleeper in a beautiful shade of sparkling blue. The color was so intense, it reminded Camilla of Quinten’s eyes, which she loved. She wondered if the baby would have her green eyes, or of it would have Quinten’s eyes, or Ben’s for that matter. Because they’d stopped using condoms fairly early on, the baby could just as easily be his, with riveting dark-brown eyes that would make her heart melt.
She heard a soft gasp, and then Bridget’s face broke into a big, beaming smile. “Gotcha!”
Camilla looked down and realized she was stroking her abdomen the same way she had the sleeper and Quinten’s baby blanket.
“Crap! How did you know?”
Bridget shook with laughter and waved a hand at her before hugging her. “Oh, sweetie, you have tells. This old lady could spot an expectant mother from a mile away. I was just waiting for you to really give yourself away so you’d feel like you’d put in a good effort. To be honest, you have a beautiful glow.” Looking around, she asked, “Any guesses which one the father is?”
“Nothing definitive, but Quinten is in the lead.” She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Quinten’s mother in the middle of Stigall’s Department Store.
Bridget balled up her little hands and shook them with glee as she did a little jig. “I’m gonna be a grandma. Let’s check out and go get lunch somewhere.” She checked her watch and crowed with happiness.
“What?”
“I bet Bill five dollars I could catch you giving yourself away before noon and it’s eleven thirty!”
Camilla couldn’t help but laugh.
She took Bridget to Rosalie’s Café for a light ladies’ lunch.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Sure,” Camilla replied as she took a sip of her lemonade.
“What do you do about holding hands, showing your feelings? Things like that?”
Camilla explained a little of her history, and that she’d worked with both men a long time, and that she didn’t plan on letting public opinion stop her from holding Quinten or Ben’s hands. “But I’m also not flaunting my relationship with Ben and Quinten. I probably get more flack for being a former exotic dancer than I do for—”
Bridget’s eyebrows arched with interest. “You were an exotic dancer? Really?”