down her fork. “You’re expecting?”
“Due in September,” Matthew said proudly. “We’re having a boy.”
“Just what we need around here,” Jayne said cheerfully. “More testosterone.”
“I’ve checked every place I can think of,” Zane said. “Everyone’s full up.”
Jayne nodded. “Deneen had to book rooms for the guests back in January. There won’t be a motel room available for weeks, if not months.”
“You can stay here,” Matthew said. “No problem.”
“I couldn’t!” Caryn protested. She’d counted bedroom doors down the long hall—six of them, enough for all the roommates and Jayne’s sister. “You don’t have room.”
“Sure we do,” Matthew said. “The couch in the den’s insanely comfortable. I’ve crashed on it so many nights I can’t remember.”
“And we have plenty of blankets and things,” Jayne added. “As for clothes, between me and Deneen I’m sure we can get you taken care of. What size shoe do you wear?”
Caryn looked from one face to the next. The three of them, total strangers, were offering to take her into their home two days before a wedding.
“But you’ve got guests—the wedding—”
“The wedding’s going to be right here, on Saturday,” Jayne said, seeming completely unruffled by its imminence. “You can come!”
“She has to work,” Zane said sternly. Of the three of them, only Zane wasn’t acting like it was the best idea ever. In fact, he looked like he hated the idea. Well, Caryn would too, if the situation were reversed.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Matthew said. “Except, isn’t Buddy’s going to be closed on Saturday? Most of the regulars will be here. In fact, Buddy was on the guest list, but this was the only weekend he could take Melanie camping.”
“And don’t forget, he hates weddings,” Jayne added.
“Yeah, hates them,” Matthew agreed, gazing at his fiancée adoringly. “Guess he had a bad experience in the romance department a long time ago, and never recovered.”
“So, look,” Zane continued as though they hadn’t spoken. “It’s almost one in the morning, and tomorrow’s a big day. I’ll get you some blankets and stuff. I think I can dig up a spare toothbrush.”
“Just leave the dishes,” Matthew said, helping Jayne to her feet. “It’ll give me something to do in the morning while Deneen’s tearing up the place.”
Now that Caryn looked more carefully, she could see the swell of Jayne’s stomach through her loose dress. A baby…the thought brought unwelcome memories back to her, memories of the very civilized conversations she’d had with Nathanial about how their careers left very little time for each other, much less parenthood; how they’d leave the childrearing to others and focus on enjoying their lives without the commitment or distraction.
Something about this place—the sheer ruffled curtains tied back from the picture window, the mismatched coffee mugs lined up on hooks, the dozens of photos taped to the fridge—made her wish for a family unlike her own. Not to take anything away from Georgia or Randall, who’d given her opportunities other people could only dream of. But suddenly Caryn’s life of glamour and wealth seemed strangely hollow: she had traveled all over the world, eaten at the best restaurants and danced at the most famous clubs, had her picture in glossy magazines, and seen her jewelry designs on some of the most beautiful of the beautiful people.
But she’d never had roommates, never kicked back over late-night tacos, never borrowed a toothbrush to camp out on a couch. She’d never been pregnant and she’d never had a fiancé who offered his arm to help her over a cattle guard or topped off her glass from a bottle of cheap white wine without being asked, who brought her an armful of old quilts and a faded T-shirt that had the words RED FORK FIGHTING BULLDOGS on the front, who—
Caryn stopped with the T-shirt pulled halfway over her head. She was
“Due in September,” Matthew said proudly. “We’re having a boy.”
“Just what we need around here,” Jayne said cheerfully. “More testosterone.”
“I’ve checked every place I can think of,” Zane said. “Everyone’s full up.”
Jayne nodded. “Deneen had to book rooms for the guests back in January. There won’t be a motel room available for weeks, if not months.”
“You can stay here,” Matthew said. “No problem.”
“I couldn’t!” Caryn protested. She’d counted bedroom doors down the long hall—six of them, enough for all the roommates and Jayne’s sister. “You don’t have room.”
“Sure we do,” Matthew said. “The couch in the den’s insanely comfortable. I’ve crashed on it so many nights I can’t remember.”
“And we have plenty of blankets and things,” Jayne added. “As for clothes, between me and Deneen I’m sure we can get you taken care of. What size shoe do you wear?”
Caryn looked from one face to the next. The three of them, total strangers, were offering to take her into their home two days before a wedding.
“But you’ve got guests—the wedding—”
“The wedding’s going to be right here, on Saturday,” Jayne said, seeming completely unruffled by its imminence. “You can come!”
“She has to work,” Zane said sternly. Of the three of them, only Zane wasn’t acting like it was the best idea ever. In fact, he looked like he hated the idea. Well, Caryn would too, if the situation were reversed.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Matthew said. “Except, isn’t Buddy’s going to be closed on Saturday? Most of the regulars will be here. In fact, Buddy was on the guest list, but this was the only weekend he could take Melanie camping.”
“And don’t forget, he hates weddings,” Jayne added.
“Yeah, hates them,” Matthew agreed, gazing at his fiancée adoringly. “Guess he had a bad experience in the romance department a long time ago, and never recovered.”
“So, look,” Zane continued as though they hadn’t spoken. “It’s almost one in the morning, and tomorrow’s a big day. I’ll get you some blankets and stuff. I think I can dig up a spare toothbrush.”
“Just leave the dishes,” Matthew said, helping Jayne to her feet. “It’ll give me something to do in the morning while Deneen’s tearing up the place.”
Now that Caryn looked more carefully, she could see the swell of Jayne’s stomach through her loose dress. A baby…the thought brought unwelcome memories back to her, memories of the very civilized conversations she’d had with Nathanial about how their careers left very little time for each other, much less parenthood; how they’d leave the childrearing to others and focus on enjoying their lives without the commitment or distraction.
Something about this place—the sheer ruffled curtains tied back from the picture window, the mismatched coffee mugs lined up on hooks, the dozens of photos taped to the fridge—made her wish for a family unlike her own. Not to take anything away from Georgia or Randall, who’d given her opportunities other people could only dream of. But suddenly Caryn’s life of glamour and wealth seemed strangely hollow: she had traveled all over the world, eaten at the best restaurants and danced at the most famous clubs, had her picture in glossy magazines, and seen her jewelry designs on some of the most beautiful of the beautiful people.
But she’d never had roommates, never kicked back over late-night tacos, never borrowed a toothbrush to camp out on a couch. She’d never been pregnant and she’d never had a fiancé who offered his arm to help her over a cattle guard or topped off her glass from a bottle of cheap white wine without being asked, who brought her an armful of old quilts and a faded T-shirt that had the words RED FORK FIGHTING BULLDOGS on the front, who—
Caryn stopped with the T-shirt pulled halfway over her head. She was
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