Twisted
like halley’s Comet, right? You only get to come every seventy-five years?”
    Delores laughs.
    And John clears his throat. Awkwardly. “That’s, ah . . . that’s . . .
    very nice, dear.”
    Then Frank decides to share. “Sex is good. Keeps you regular. I
    make sure I have sex at least three times a week. Not that my Estelle is into any of that freaky-freaky stuff, but in forty years of marriage, she’s never had a headache.”
    Estelle smiles proudly beside him.
    And Matthew covers his face with his hands.
    The rest of us just stare. Eyes wide, mouths slightly opened.
    Until Drew throws his head back and laughs. “That’s so great.”
    he wipes his eyes, practically crying.
    Alexandra shakes her head. “Wait. There’s more. Go ahead,
    Mackenzie.”
    Mackenzie rolls her eyes. “Well, that means they’re gonna have
    a baby, of course. I’m gonna be a big sister!”
    Congratulations erupt all around. Anne tears up as she hugs
    her daughter. “I’m so happy for you, honey.”
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    53
    Drew stands and hugs his sister sweetly. “Congratulations,
    Lex.” Then he smacks Steven on the back. “I’ll keep the guest room ready for you, man.”
    I’m confused. “Guest room?”
    Drew explains. “The last time Alexandra was pregnant, she
    kicked Steven out—not once, not twice, but four fucking times.”
    Matthew joins in. “And that’s not counting the time she let
    him stay, but she threw all his shit out the window.”
    Drew chuckles. “It looked like a Barney’s delivery truck
    exploded on Park Avenue. The homeless were never dressed so
    well.”
    Alexandra rolls her eyes and turns to me. “Pregnancy hor-
    mones. They can cause some pretty bad mood swings. I tend to get
    a little . . . bitchy . . . when I’m pregnant.”
    Drew smirks. “As opposed to the rest of the time, when you’re
    just so pleasant?”
    You know how some dogs still keep chewing your shoes—no
    matter how many times you smack them with a newspaper? They
    just can’t resist?
    Drew is one of those dogs.
    Alexandra turns on her brother like a cat hissing at a snake.
    “You know, Drew, being with child? It’s kind of like a ‘get out of jail free’ card. There’s not a jury in the country that would convict me.”
    he backs away slowly.
    I shake my head at him, then ask Alexandra, “Other than that,
    how are you feeling?”
    She shrugs. “Tired, mostly. And the vomiting doesn’t help.
    Most women get morning sickness, but I get it at night, which
    sucks pretty bad.”
    Huh
    Vomiting.
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    54
    E m m a c h a s E
    Tired.
    Moody.
    They certainly sound familiar.
    What? Why are you looking at me like that?
    No, no—everyone knows the surest sign of pregnancy is a
    missed period. And my period’s not due for . . . one . . . two . . .
    four . . .
    Five . . .
    My period was due five days ago.
    Oh.
    My.
    God.
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Chapter 5
    Denial is a skill I mastered at a young age.
    Don’t think about it. Don’t talk about it. Suck it up.
    Choke it down.
    I didn’t cry the night my father died.
    Not when Sherriff Mitchell came to our door to take us to the
    hospital, or when the doctor told us they’d lost him. I didn’t shed a tear during the wake—or at the funeral.
    Thank you for your condolences.
    Yes, I’ll be strong for my mother.
    You’re so kind.
    Eight days after he was laid in the ground, my mother was
    working in the diner downstairs. I was in our kitchen, trying to
    open a jar of pickles.
    I walked into my parents’ bedroom and called my Dad for
    help. And that’s when it hit me—staring at their empty room. he
    wasn’t there. he’d never be there again. I collapsed on the floor and sobbed like a baby.
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    56
    E m m a c h a s E
    Over a jar of pickles.
    It’s that same skill set that gets me through the rest of the night at the Evans’. I smile. I chat. I hug Mackenzie

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