Unconditional

by Linda Rettstatt

  “You look ready to pop. Speaking of which, I’ll come over early on Thursday and get the turkey in the oven at your place.”

  “Thanks for the flattering comparison. I can do it.”

  “Yeah. You’re not lifting and bending.”

  “Dad will do that part.”

  “You’re also not standing on your feet to prepare a turkey. Maybe I’ll come on Wednesday and sleep on your couch.” She set a cup of tea in front of me.

  I added sugar to the tea and considered what I was about to say. “Um…Aud? I…uh…invited a few other guests to dinner on Thursday.”

  She sat down across me from me. “That’s okay. Heaven knows the turkey is big enough. Did you think we were hosting the Marines?”

  “Yes, well… I…uh… I invited Julian. When I asked, he said he didn’t have plans, so…”

  “It’s fine, Meg. Julian’s become a good friend. I was going to invite him anyway. I’m glad he’ll be joining us. Just don’t get any ideas about anything more than that.”

  I started to protest, then conceded. “Gotcha. None of my business.”

  “Who else did you invite?”

  “Nikki. Her folks are in Hawaii and her brother is going with his girlfriend’s family. And she’s between men again.” Just then a contraction grabbed me and my breath caught.

  Audrey’s face paled. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a contraction.”

  She leaped to her feet. “You’re in labor?”

  “No. Sit down. I just get a little contraction every once in a while. Dr. Brodey says it’s normal. Now if my water breaks, we have to be concerned.”

  She sat again. “Just think, the baby will be here before Christmas. That’ll make the holidays all the more special.”

  “Yeah. And Mom and Dad will be here. Their flight arrives tomorrow evening at seven.”

  “I’ll pick them up and bring them to your place.” She poured hot water into two mugs over tea bags, passing one to me.

  I nodded. “I’ll have something ready for a light dinner. Don’t worry, I won’t go all out.”

  “Good.” She sipped her tea and swirled the liquid in her mug. “Meg, I’m not trying to be secretive about my relationships. I know you care about me and want me to be happy.”

  “I do.”

  “And I appreciate it. But I’m a big girl, and I have to find my own happiness. Okay?” She lifted a brow and locked eyes with me.

  “Okay. I am officially backing off.”

  We chatted about Christmas and how it would be different this year with a new baby to steal everyone’s attention. When I had downed the last of my tea, I stood. “One visit to the bathroom, then I’m heading home before the roads start to freeze.”

  I returned from the bathroom and wrestled into my coat. “See you tomorrow evening.” I glanced out the window to where snow fell in fat flakes. “Looks like we’re in for a white Thanksgiving this year.”

  “Be careful.” She hugged me and waited until the elevator doors whooshed closed.

  Snow coated the sidewalks and streets. I walked gingerly to the curb and around my car. A glance at the gauge told me the outside temperature had dropped to thirty-three degrees. As I eased into traffic, the tires spun and grabbed for purchase. I recalled Thomas’s promise that we would one day live in a warm climate. Arizona or New Mexico. One more little disappointment, one more dream shot down.

  I wondered when these memories wouldn’t matter anymore.

  ~ * ~

  The next evening, I listened for the sound of Audrey’s car in the driveway. When I heard the crunch of tires, I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch to greet my parents.

  My father stood at the bottom of the steps and smiled up at me. “Hi, sweetheart.” Dad rubbed his chilled hands together as he came to hug me. “You look beautiful, Meggie. Just like your mother when she was expecting. You have that same glow.”

  “Thanks, Dad. It’s so good to have you here.” I snuggled as close to him as my expansive body would allow.

  My mother looped an arm through mine and led me into the house. “It smells good in here. I hope you didn’t stand over the stove all afternoon. We could have picked up something to eat on our way here.”

  “I have soup, sandwiches, and brownies. And I swear I didn’t slave over any of it. I figured you wouldn’t want a big meal at this hour of the night.”

  While we ate our dinner, Dad asked a hundred questions about how I was feeling, if Thomas was being helpful, and if I had a bag packed and ready for the hospital.

  “Dad, I have at least three weeks to go yet. I’ll have time to pack a bag.”

  My mother laughed. “He was like that with me when I was expecting your sister and you. Worried the entire time about one thing or another. When I went into labor with you, Meg, he threw my overnight bag into the car, backed out of the garage, and headed down the street—without me.”

  “Audrey arrived almost two weeks early. And Meg was four days ahead of schedule. You just never know.” He shoved his soup bowl away and leaned his forearms on the table. “It’s best to be prepared. We’ll get a bag ready tomorrow, just in case. After all, we’re here to look after you.”

  Audrey placed her dishes in the sink. “We’d better be going. It’s getting nasty outside.”

  “I’ll drive,” my father said.

  “I don’t think so, Dad. You haven’t driven in this weather for the past two years,” Audrey said.

  He began to protest, but Mom cut him off. “Abe, don’t argue. Audrey knows what she’s doing.” She turned to me. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. You and Daddy will be here with me soon enough.”

  “Abe, get my bag out of the car. I’m staying with Megan.” So much for my opinion.

  My father smiled. “I knew that was coming.” He took Audrey’s keys and returned with my mother’s suitcase and overnight bag. “You girls have a good night.” He kissed Mom on the cheek, then gave me a hug. “Audrey, you ready to go?” He dangled the car keys from his fingers, smiling.

  Audrey rolled her eyes. “I’m ready.” She leaned in to hug me and whispered, “Say a prayer.”

  ~ * ~

  Mom insisted I sit while she cleaned up the kitchen. “When do you plan to stop working?”

  “This week is my last week in the office. I’ve only been seeing a few patients for the last few weeks.”

  “You should have stopped by now.”

  “I can sit there as easily as I can sit here.”

  “Just don’t over-do things. I’m glad Elena will be helping with the baby after I leave. She’s a good woman.” She dried her hands and hung the dishtowel under the sink.

  “She is. I’ll feel so much better having her care for the baby rather than hiring a stranger.”

  Mom sat across from me at the table. “I won’t pretend to understand what Thomas has done. It’s not right. Not at all.”

  “He’s trying, Mom. We’re trying to work things out.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d used the wrong phrasing. “Not work things out, but at least be civil to one another.”

  “So, he comes around, helps you out?”

  “He’s been to every doctor’s appointment. He bought the furniture for the nursery and put it together. And he checks in on me to see if I need anything.”

  “I never worried about you. Your sister, yes, but not you. But, now….”

  I placed a hand over one of hers. “I’m okay, Mom.”

  She sighed. “We should both get to bed. You’re father’s taking me to the old neighborhood tomorrow to have lunch with some of our friends. Then I’ll come back here and bake the pies for Thursday. Your sister’s coming over, too, to make the stuffing. Where are the sheets for the futon?”

  I gathered sheets and blankets from the linen closet and helped her make up the futon. “I hope this thing is comfortable.”

  “It will be fine.” She sa
t down and patted the futon beside her. “Sit for a minute.”

  I obeyed.

  “Megan, I can’t imagine how painful this whole thing has been for you.” She put an arm across my shoulders and drew me close.

  I nestled my face against her ample chest, the way I had as a child. “I would never have imagined my life with Thomas ending up like this.”

  “The baby is going to be a blessing for you. A new beginning. A baby changes everything—the way you think about life, your priorities, the considerations you have to make for the future. You will have so much joy in your life.”

  Joy. “Sometimes I get a little scared. What if I’m not a good mother?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, that’s normal. But you’re going to be a wonderful mother.” She grinned down at me. “Look at the example you have.”

  I hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Mom. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Audrey sported a golf-ball sized knot on her forehead and a blackened right eye. “Aud, will you please sit down and rest,” I said.

  “I don’t even have a headache. I’m mostly sad about my car.” She continued to mix stuffing for dinner the next day.

  “I’m not. You needed a new car. I am grateful you and Dad weren’t badly hurt. How is the other guy?”

  “The one in the F-150? Oh, he’s fine. So is his truck. Well, it was at least drivable. I can’t believe the other driver didn’t see that red light. Daddy insisted that if I hadn’t told him to slow down, we would have cleared the intersection before the truck hit us.” She patted the stuffing down into a bowl, covered it with plastic wrap and rubbed her bruised elbow.

  Dad came into the kitchen. “Smells good in here. You using your mother’s recipe?”

  Audrey nodded. “Of course. You can’t improve perfection. I’ll leave the pies for Mom to do. I know there’s one ingredient she uses that makes all the difference, but I can’t remember what it is.”

  “Vanilla extract,” he said.

  “How do you know that?” Audrey asked.

  “Because every year your mother gets ready to bake pies, has everything out on the counter, then tells me I have to go to the store for vanilla extract. I swear my trip to the store is part of her recipe.”

  “What’s part of my recipe?” My mother swept into the kitchen. “Eleanor sends her best wishes to you girls. Audrey, did you add sage to the stuffing?”

  “Yes, Mom. Just like your recipe says. We were discussing the pies and the vanilla extract you add to the mix.” Audrey rinsed her hands at the sink.

  Food had always been central in our family. Not the eating so much as the preparing and the gathering around the table. I should be three times my size. The fact that we talked while we ate no doubt saved me from myself. I smiled as a memory of Thanksgiving in my childhood wafted through my brain. So much care taken to prepare our holiday dinners, when it wasn’t really the meal but the being together for the meal that meant so much.

  My mother shooed all three of us toward the living room with orders to sit. “I’ll take over in here.”

  “I don’t need to sit,” my father protested.

  “Rest your carving hand so that sprained wrist will be in shape for tomorrow.” My mother turned him around and nudged him out of the kitchen.

  Mom was in her element. I watched her for signs of tiredness, but she seemed to be more energized by cooking. I curled up on the sofa, Audrey sitting at the far end with her legs outstretched and feet resting on the coffee table.

  My father reclined in the leather recliner. “Audrey, I’m sorry about your car. I never saw that guy coming. I’ll help you find a new one, and I’ll pay what you would have gotten on a trade.”

  “It’s all right, Dad. It was an accident. And you won’t pay me anything. I have insurance. Besides, you already gave me thirty thousand dollars for a car, and I have no intention of buying a Mercedes.”

  He scratched under the Ace bandage that wound around his right wrist. “You need one of those all-wheel-drive vehicles. That guy in the truck was going too fast for conditions, though. Probably wouldn’t have made a difference. Good thing he only clipped the back end.”

  Audrey caught my eye. We both knew my father drove at least ten miles over the speed limit at all times. His philosophy was that they set the limit ten miles per hour lower than they expected people to drive.

  “I’m just glad you’re both okay,” I said. “But I’m still angry that you didn’t call us last night to tell us what happened.”

  “I didn’t want you out on the roads to come and get us,” my father said. “The tow truck driver was nice enough to take us to Audrey’s place.”

  Audrey frowned. “He wasn’t being nice, Dad. You paid him fifty bucks.”

  “That was a tip for helping us out. It’s a holiday.”

  I closed my eyes and tuned into the sound of my mother’s hum and the clank of dishes emanating from the kitchen. Like a lullaby, they soothed me into a relaxing sleep.

  ~ * ~

  By noon the next day, all the aromas of Thanksgiving filled the house. Pumpkin pies—complete with Mom’s secret addition of vanilla extract—cooled on the side counter. The turkey roasted in the oven.

  Nikki arrived bearing a bottle of wine and a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling juice. “Mmm, it smells so good in here.”

  “That’s mostly my mother’s doing. Audrey helped, but I had very little to do with it. Let me take your jacket.” I hung her quilted down jacket on the coat tree. “Come on to the kitchen. We have warm spiced cider.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “They went for a walk. It’s part of my mother’s new health regimen for both of them.”

  My father opened the front door and ushered Julian inside ahead of him. “I found this young man casing the house, so I invited him for dinner.” He slapped Julian on the back. “Go on in.” Mom stood right behind Dad and waited for the men to clear a path for her to enter.

  “So, you’ve met my father, the comedian.” I took Julian’s coat and invited him to have a seat. “And this is my mother, Pauline.”

  Julian greeted them both, moved into the living room, and looked around. “This is a charming house.”

  “Thank you. I like it. I’ll let Audrey know you’re here. She’s in the kitchen.”

  My mother hustled past me. “I’ll take over out there and send her in to join you. Meg, you take orders for drinks.”

  I grinned. “The boss has spoken. Would you care for a glass of warm cider or wine?”

  “Cider, thanks.”

  “Dad, something for you?”

  He shook his head. “Not right now. I’ll keep Julian company.”

  Nikki helped me with the drinks. “Where’s Thomas spending the holiday?”

  “He and Francisco were invited to Elena’s.”

  “She’s a very accepting woman,” Nikki said.

  “She’s a mother.”

  We delivered the drinks and, ten minutes later, my mother appeared in the doorway. “Everything’s ready. Let’s get this feast on the table.”

  During the meal, we all shared stories of Thanksgivings past and voted Nikki’s family as the most entertaining.

  Julian sat back in his chair, one hand on his stomach. “That was the best pumpkin pie I’ve ever tasted.”

  Audrey stood and gathered plates. “I’ll take care of clean-up.”

  Rolling up his sleeves, Julian offered to assist and asked where I kept the plastic food storage containers.

  “In the lower cabinet.”

  “I’ll help, too,” Nikki said.

  “I won’t argue,” I said, pressing fingertips to my aching lower back. “I need to put my feet up for a bit.”

  Mom went to the bedroom to get her medication. My father built a fire in the fireplace while I raised the footrest on the recliner and stretched my legs.

  “That was a nice dinner,” Dad said. “So, Audrey and Julian are good friends?” he asked.
>
  I knew what he was really asking. “Yes. Good friends.”

  “Do you think your sister is happy?” He sat on the sofa and stared at the fire.

  “I…I don’t know. I suppose so.”

  He smiled. “That’s all I want, you know. For you girls to be happy. Your mother and I have been happy together for almost forty years.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine. “You know the one thing I love the most about your mother?”

  “What, Dad?”

  “She always sees the good in a person. No matter what they do, no matter how unlikable they are, she finds something good in them. It irritates the hell out of me sometimes, but then I realize that may be why she puts up with me.”

  I chuckled. “Daddy, she loves you.”

  He nodded, returning his gaze to the fire. “I want you girls to have that kind of love, too.”

  “I should be so lucky.”

  Mom passed through the room and headed back into the kitchen. A burst of laughter rippled from the other room. Audrey told Julian to stop something. Then she laughed—a free, joyful laugh.

  I smiled. “Sounds like they’re having fun.”

  My father gazed at me. “I want to hear you laugh that way again.”

  “I will, Daddy.” I rested a palm lightly on my abdomen. “Just wait until this little guy makes his appearance.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  A week later, fat white snowflakes had been falling for a few hours, ever since Audrey had taken my folks shopping in her new Subaru Legacy. Added to what had fallen the previous day, the snow covered the streets. Plunging temperatures turned the melting tracks of vehicle tires to gray ice. Unable to find a comfortable position, I passed on the shopping trip. When I showered that morning, I noticed that the baby seemed to be lower and I’d had contractions through the night. Not wanting to spoil their plans, I didn’t mention this fact to my parents. I didn’t really think I was in labor. Now worry rippled through me as I paced to the window and glanced up to see the tree branches and power lines hanging heavy with frozen precipitation.

  I was in the kitchen when the lights flickered off, then back on, and then off again. I waited, expecting the power to resurge and to hear the furnace kick back on along with the lights. But I only heard the wind whistling at the windows. Sleet pelted the glass in a staccato rhythm.