Kit pulled up an extra chair beside me, smiling his usual chipper smile. “News like this takes time to sink in.”
One look into Maddie’s grief-stricken eyes nullified his optimism. Was Maddie still in love with Peter? I’d never understood her feelings for him. Of course, my own feelings about Peter were off-the-scale negative. That certainly clouded my judgment when it came to their relationship. Love was a funny thing. It was supposed to make a person happy, yet more often than not, it tortured individuals. One look at Maddie proved that.
I stole a glimpse at Sarah, who was watching me with soulful eyes. How in the world did I get so lucky?
Chapter Nine
“Why’d we agree to go to dinner with them?” I ushered Sarah to the SUV in the garage, my arms out protectively in case she stumbled. Lately, it seemed all we did was have one awkward family meal after another. Was this part of raising a family? The kids hadn’t even popped out yet!
“Stop that!” She yanked one arm down. “Just because I’m a blimp doesn’t mean you have to direct traffic.”
“I’m not directing traffic. I’m being cautious. You can’t see your feet, and I want to be prepared in case you slip.” I eyed her nearly eight-month-pregnant belly, wondering how she was able to walk at all. It seemed to smash all of Newton’s theories.
Sarah’s tone grew nostalgic. “I haven’t been able to see my toes since the twenty-sixth week.”
I glanced at her puffy feet spilling out of leather flip-flops. “They look lovely. I like the shade Maddie picked out.”
Maddie had been dragging Sarah out regularly to get a foot massage and pedicure. Sarah’s toenails were a soft shade of lilac, matching her soft jersey skirt and fitted maternity top that provided ample room to stretch over her even more ample stomach.
We finally made it to the car, which was only four feet from the door that led to the kitchen. I opened the car door for her, unable to stop myself from taking a cautious stance while she hoisted herself into the passenger seat.
“Comfortable?”
“It’s almost August, it’s over one hundred degrees in the shade, and I’m bursting out to here”—she held her hands in front of her to emphasize—“with two babies in my belly. What do you think?” Her dark eyes warned me not to try saying anything clever.
I sucked in my retort of, “Hey, you’re the one who wanted a baby.” Instead, I replied, “Right. Stupid question. However, if there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable, just let me know. I’m at your service.” I leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I love you.”
Lately, I’d been saying I love you about twenty times a day. Technically, I wasn’t the one who’d knocked-up Sarah, but I still felt guilty as hell that she was carrying our babies.
When I took my seat at the wheel, Sarah swiveled to face me. “You know, you may be catching on to this relationship thing. Only took you five years.”
I smiled. “And you said I was a slow learner.” I cranked the AC to high and positioned all the vents toward my wife.
Her melodious laughter trilled through my body. Even at this stage in her pregnancy, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Let’s hope you’re faster when it comes to raising your demon spawn.” She rubbed her stomach tenderly.
“I’ll try.” I sighed. “Let’s go have dinner with the fam first.” I put the car in reverse and backed out of the drive.
“Don’t let Peter get to you tonight.”
“Get to me? I would never let such a thing happen,” I said as cheerily as possible as I turned onto the road heading east toward the I-25 highway entrance.
“Keep using that tone and you might convince yourself.” She rested a hand on my leg and then winced.
“You okay?” I checked the rearview and side mirrors and pulled over.
Sarah bit down on her lip, taking a second. “Yeah. I’m fine.” She exhaled through her mouth. “Just ready to get these babies out.”
“Hey now, they aren’t quite done baking yet.” I spoke to her belly, “Another couple of weeks, little ones, to make it to thirty-eight weeks.”
“Are you kidding me? Most twins are born before that. Are you that competitive?”
I thought it wise to avoid looking in her direction.
“Remember when I said you were learning?”
I nodded.
“Forget I said that. You’re unteachable.” She inclined her head against the seat and blotted her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand. “A couple more weeks. Gawd.”
I swallowed my response that a teacher should never tell someone they’re unteachable, chalking her words up to “baby brain.” Scouting over my shoulder to ensure no one was in my blind spot, I eased back into traffic.
The highway entrance signs approached. “What do you say? Fancy going to Cheyenne instead? Get a good steak, listen to country music, maybe buy some shit kickers?”
“Shit kickers. Since when did you start calling boots that name? I can tell you’ve been hanging out with Maddie too much.”
“She’s a bad influence. You sure we should let her hang around the twins?” I rested a hand on Sarah’s stomach.
“Lesbian parents of twins can’t be too choosy.” She cradled her hand on top of mine.
“Did you feel that?” One of the babies tried to boot my hand off Sarah’s belly. “Do you think that was Olivia or Frederick?”
“My guess is Olivia. Hopefully I can teach her to be like the women in my family, even though we used your egg.”
“Which is?”
“Spitfires.”
“I’ll be outnumbered completely. You, your mom, Ollie…” We’d decided Olivia’s nickname should be Ollie, since Liv was too similar to Lizzie.
“Oh, I’m sure Freddie will join forces with us to survive,” she said without a trace of humor.
“Four against one. That’s not fair.” I wormed my hand onto Sarah’s thigh.
“Ah, you’ll be fine. Just stay out of our way.” She smiled with her eyes closed. “What do you think tonight’s announcement will be?”
“When it comes to the Petries, I think it’s best not to assume anything. We’d just be wrong. Besides, usually the announcements are about Peter’s next wedding, and so far, Tie hasn’t divorced him yet. Dad never has anything to say.”
“I doubt Tie will ever divorce Peter. It’s not in her man-trapping DNA. I think she plans on making his life hell just for shits and giggles. She’s related to Kit, another pot stirrer. Rich kids with too much time on their hands are trouble. Maybe Peter will divorce her.”
“And admit he made a mistake? No way.”
“Care to make a friendly wager?” Sarah rubbed her hands together. “I love winning money.”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to place a bet on my brother’s marriage?”
“Yes.” She bobbed her head for emphasis.
“Okay. But how do we figure out the terms?”
She laughed. “Why do you have to complicate things? Think kiss.”
“You want to kiss?” I glanced over my shoulder to see whether it was clear to pull over.
“Not that type. K-I-S-S. Keep it simple, stupid. This is simple. If Peter asks for a divorce, I win.”
“And if they stay married, I win.”
“Yep. That’s the gist.” She patted my knee. “See, that’s not so hard to understand. God, sometimes I forget I’m married to a PhD.”
“Says the woman who loves to mention I’m a doctor when introducing me to friends and colleagues.”
“Now I can officially call you Professor Petrie.” The pride in her tone was unmistakable.
“Ugh. Sounds awful. Having that last name hasn’t been easy. The only thing that makes it bearable is having a jackass brother named Peter Petrie.” Sarah’s laughter confirmed she agreed. “Back to the bet, it could take years to find out who won.”
“Patience. We’ll know
when we know.”
“What happens if we don’t remember the bet, though? He’s seven years older than I am. Odds are he’ll die first, but—”
“But you’re so competitive you’ll want payment even if you’re six feet in the ground.” Sarah stared out the side window. There wasn’t much to see along the stretch between Fort Collins and Denver, hardly a turn in the road, let alone anything of interest. Occasionally some cows, horses, or a lone tree broke the monotony of sunbaked dirt.
“Of course! Glad you’re seeing the flaw in the arrangement.” I smiled, sure she was rolling her eyes even though I couldn’t see her face.
“Or maybe you’re missing the obvious. I believe Peter will ask for a divorce well before he’s dead.”
“Why do you think that?”
“He picked her because he thought she’d be easy to control. After the whole Maddie thing, he wanted a wife who was dumb as a post. But she isn’t. She played him from day one. Your brother is a business genius—or thinks he is. He has to know by now that he got conned. Tie is many things, but she isn’t stupid or controllable.”
“Are you saying she got her hooks into Peter right from the start, even before Peter considered her as his future wife? That’s some serious planning.”
“Women like her are born schemers. That’s how their mothers brought them up, and their mothers did the same.” She circled her hand, indicating and so on.
“Thank God Rose didn’t train you from the cradle.”
Sarah shifted her upper body, with great effort, to look me in the eyes. “What makes you think she didn’t?”
“Uh…”
Shit, had I been played from the start? Not that I was complaining. Sarah was a knockout in every way: great wife, lover, companion, and mother-to-be. But to know I’d been played stung.
“But you love me, right?” I needed clarification, even though I was 95.63 percent certain our marriage was on solid footing. Kicking my insecurities to the curb completely wasn’t possible, apparently.
“An unintended but delightful consequence.”
My entire body went cold.
Sarah continued to stare me down.
“Please tell me you’re kidding?”
She didn’t move a muscle in her face for what seemed like well over sixty seconds, not that I could stare at her that long while passing two semis in the left lane.
When I merged back into the right lane, she broke out in hysterics. “Of course I’m fucking with you. I’d have to be in love with you to put up with your idiocy.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” It did, somehow. Not that I would confess that to her. Why let her know she was completely in control? She had been since day one, although it had taken me years to realize and accept it.
“I like to keep it real. Besides, you’re my idiot, and I love you more than I ever thought possible. Please don’t ever doubt that. I know you didn’t grow up with the best examples of happy relationships, but you and I were made for each other.” Sarah placed both hands on her swollen belly. “And I would never bring children into a loveless marriage.”
I stroked her stomach again. “Children—never thought I’d say this, but I like the sound of that.”
“Get the lead out. I’m starving.” Sarah chomped her teeth for emphasis.
***
“Whoa. Are we in the right place?” I helped Sarah to a chair at the bar, conveniently located next to the restrooms, where Sarah had already made one pit stop upon arrival.
Sarah’s eyes grew three times the normal size as she gazed around the steakhouse. Every square inch of the scarlet red walls featured some type of animal head mounted on it. “This isn’t the usual place for your family; that’s for sure. What’s that?” She pointed to a rabbit with antlers hung to the top left of the bar.
“Jackalope.” The bartender placed both hands on the bar. “His name is Blackberry.”
“Blackberry, like in Watership Down?” Sarah asked.
He nodded. “What can I get you, pretty lady? Ice water? Or something with a bit more pizzazz? Virgin cocktail, perhaps?”
“Ice water, but I won’t turn down a lemon slice or two.” Sarah looked as if she’d just ordered a snow cone in the middle of the African bush. “I can’t believe how hot it is.” She tugged at the neck of her top.
The bartender eyed me as he filled Sarah’s glass with more ice than water.
“Coke, please.”
Sarah sipped the water through a straw. “Never heard of a jackalope.”
“That’s because they aren’t real. It’s a jackrabbit with antelope horns, but this one has deer antlers.” He shrugged off the inauthentic creature.
“So it’s a jackadeer,” I joked.
Neither of them cracked a smile.
“Tough crowd,” I muttered. Sarah motioned to the seat next to her.
“What brings you out on a hot day that’s not fit for the living?” he asked, glancing at her massive belly.
“Family dinner. Not mine—hers.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder in my direction.
“Ah,” was all he said, but his meaning was perfectly clear.
“Hey, it was your idea to accept. I would have been perfectly happy staying in.”
He laughed. “Family. Gotta love them or kill them.”
Before I had a chance to study his face to determine whether he was serious, I heard, “Good Lord, Sarah, you’re”—Peter’s eyes ballooned, and he sputtered—“so large.”
I shot a withering look at my brother—needlessly, it turned out. Tie whacked the back of his head as if she’d been waiting all day to pounce.
“Nice wallop,” Sarah said as she gave Tie a welcoming hug, to the best of her ability, while remaining in her seat.
I would never say this out loud, but hugging a beached whale was not an easy feat.
Tie grinned triumphantly. “He never thinks before he opens his stupid mouth.”
“Oh, I think that’s a family trait. Except for you, Charles.” Sarah kissed my dad’s proffered cheek. “Did you three drive together?”
As usual, Dad nodded but stayed mute. However, the jovial glimmer in his eyes was different. All the years he’d been married to my mother, I’d never seen his eyes show any hint of happiness. Today, though, he was practically rupturing at the seams—for him.
Peter cast his gaze around. “Where’s Glenn Close?”
“What?” I checked the patrons in the bar.
“I’m assuming Maddie is in Fort Collins.” Sarah’s tone suggested Peter shouldn’t push his luck when it came to our best friend.
“I’m not making the connection.” I scratched my head.
“Fatal Attraction,” Tie explained before informing the bartender she needed an ice water stat.
“Oh, that.” I mimed a lightbulb going off, pretending I got it.
Sarah placed a hand on my leg and gave me an I’ll explain later squeeze.
“Mrs. Petrie, your table is ready.” The hostess motioned for us to follow.
Sarah and Tie led the way. I shadowed Sarah vigilantly, noticing Peter put his arms out a bit, as if readying himself in case Sarah took a misstep. Maybe he wasn’t such an ass after all. Or maybe he feared he’d get hurt if Sarah fell on him.
I pulled out Sarah’s chair, and Tie harrumphed until Peter took the hint. He started to say something but seemed to think better of it. Maybe that was what Peter needed all of these years, wallops to the back of the head to keep his inner asshole in check. And maybe he liked having a woman put him in his place.
Peter immediately ordered two bottles of wine.
“Are you sure you want two? Neither of us will be drinking.” I motioned to Sarah’s condition.
Sarah shook her head. “I think aliens on Mars can see me. No need to point out the obvious.”
Tie laughed, and the trace of a smile materialized on my father’s face. My cheeks tingled with the beginnings of a b
lush.
“You can have some. Sarah can drive home,” Peter said as if Sarah hadn’t made a joke. It wasn’t the first time I’d wondered whether Peter had a sense of humor.
“I don’t think the seat will move that far back. Even if it did, she’d never be able to reach the pedals.” I feigned trying to grab the steering wheel from the backseat.
Sarah shot daggers at me over the rim of her water glass. Mental note, only Sarah can make jokes about her size—no one else, including me.
Tie caught her eye, and Sarah nodded swiftly. Before I realized what was coming, Tie smashed her hand into the back of my head.
Peter laughed—a positive sign my brother wasn’t a complete robot. Not that I had any illusions of trying to develop a close relationship with him. Just enough. Was that the right example to set for my children?
“Tie, I’m hereby electing you to the role of family enforcer.” Sarah beamed.
I rubbed the tender spot on the back of my head. “How many hours do you spend in the gym?”
“Not enough. She had to buy new swimsuits for the summer.” Peter smirked at his own joke as he buttered a roll. Tie smacked his head with hurricane-like force, causing him to drop the bread, which rolled across to the next table.
Tie turned in her chair to apologize to the couple sitting at the table behind us. “Sorry about that.” Her tone was one of such easy-going charm that I had to remind myself she’d already whacked Peter twice and me once. Three whacks in under five minutes. Was abuse a new habit of hers? If so, I didn’t like it.
“Don’t be. If my husband said that to me, I’d hit him, too.” An older woman, who probably hadn’t worn a swimsuit in twenty years, glared at Peter.
“Shall we call a truce?” I offered.
Sarah and Tie grinned, knowing they had the upper hand.
“It’s a simple rule. Don’t say shitty things. Think before you speak.” Sarah shifted in her seat and grimaced.
“Jesus. You aren’t going to pop out Elizabeth’s offspring at the table, are you?” Peter ducked this time, which Tie had anticipated. Despite the movement, she managed a direct hit.
A Family Woman Page 13