by Gina LaManna
“It’s really happening,” I said, after the near-silent walk. The stretch of the legs had felt good, the fresh air crisp and invigorating. “It’s really happening.”
Anthony paused on our front steps and turned to face me. The light glinted off his eyes in the most beautiful way, a raw crystal burst of it that sent my pulse pounding and my breath speeding through my lungs.
“I know,” he said softly, and he meant it.
I could see it in his eyes, in the way his huge hands stroked gentle brushes against my face, pushing the hair back. He unlocked the door, grasped my hand and led me inside.
We set our things on the counter, and I took an extra moment to position Veenie-baby so the sunlight would hit his leaves, and hopefully get the party started in his pot.
When I turned around, Anthony had me pressed against the counter, that sweet, tender look in his eyes gone, replaced with the glint of lust and desire.
“I thought about what Dr. Gambino said,” he murmured, relieving me of my jacket. His fingers danced around the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head before I knew what was happening. “I can think of one thing we won’t be able to do with kids running around.”
“What’s that?” I asked, pulse pounding in fear. “We can still have sex, Anthony. Parents do that.”
He laughed. “I figured that one out all on my own,” he said, an evil sheen to his eye. “I was talking about running around naked.”
“When do we ever run around the house naked?”
“There’s always a first time for everything,” he said, circling his arms around my body and bending his knees to lift. “What about making out on the kitchen counter? I’m not sure we’ve ever...”
He trailed off as he attempted to lift me onto the counter. He mostly jostled me around and grunted a lot, and only after I felt thoroughly like a beached whale did I tap his head and request he stop before he broke his back.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to cover for his lack of ability to lift me. “I don’t want to hurt the baby.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right.”
“Lacey...”
I cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips. I put some extra effort into swinging my hips as I swept past him into the living room. As I moved, I let my hands swiftly unhook my bra. The fabric fell away, dangling from my arm as I stood with my back to Anthony in the middle of the room.
“You might not be able to lift me onto the counter,” I said with a cheeky grin, turning slowly around to face him. A burst of satisfaction warmed my skin at the sight of Anthony’s wide-open jaw at the view. “But I don’t see any reason we can’t run around naked.”
Chapter 10
“LACEY.”
I moaned, lifted a hand to my forehead, and turned over.
“Lace, sugar,” Anthony’s voice persisted, a low, rumbling sound. “Wake up, sweetheart.”
Pulling a pillow over my head, I fought off the sleepiness accompanying my crash nap. “No. It’s bedtime.”
“I brought food.”
A streak of interest skittered through me at the notion. “What sort of food?”
“Something hot and fresh.” He jiggled a paper bag in the doorway. “Marinello’s.”
That got me sitting up a little faster. “Would you say it’s more on the pizza or pasta side of things?”
“I’ll tell you, right after I hear about the tornado that went through this place.”
“The tornad...oh.” I wiped sleep from my eyes and what I pretended wasn’t drool from my chin. “Yeah, about that. I was packing.”
“I thought the doctor said we’d only have to pack for a night, maybe two?”
“Sure. I was thorough, just in case.”
“I can see that. Thoroughly destructive.” Anthony’s gaze scanned the room, and I could see his point. “That’s a nine on the Richter scale.”
I bit my lip and studied the damage. A pair of yoga pants hung from the top of my closet door, and a few pairs of socks sat on the windowsill. In an embarrassing twist of events, my grade school uniform had somehow unearthed itself from the back of the closet and landed on the foot of the bed in my haste to prepare for Sprout’s arrival.
“What’s this?” Anthony eyed it the same time as I did. I reached for it, but since I was dealing with a watermelon-sized human in my stomach, he moved faster and picked up the itsy-bitsy skirt. “Do you still fit into this?”
That did it. The tears came. They burst forth like a phoenix into flames. An unstoppable wash of them that I hadn’t seen coming from a mile away.
“What?” Anthony dropped the skirt like it was on fire, and he set the warm bag of food on the bedside table. “What did I say? I thought it’d be sexy to see you in this!”
“Anthony!” I shrieked. “I don’t fit into anything! My hips...I could fit one hipbone into that skirt. A baby has to fit through there, you know!”
“What’s the commotion?” Another voice joined the party, and this time, it was Meg. “What’d you say, Anthony?”
He shrunk back. “I didn’t—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything.”
“Hey, our grade school skirts!” Meg said, picking up the skirt with a grin. “I still fit into mine.”
The tears came like a lava flow from a volcano. Hot and fast and out of control. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I don’t know where the uniform came from—must have been from one of my mom’s old boxes.”
“You’re worried you don’t fit into it?” Meg said. “Pop your baby out and you’ll be back to normal in no time.”
“You think so?” I sniffed. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be back to normal.”
“Of course you will, sugar.” Anthony chimed in.
“How would you know, Anthony?!” I snapped at him. “When the doctor said not long now, you asked until what.”
“Maybe take a hike, buddy,” Meg said, turning to Anthony. “It’s not you. It’s her. But it’s probably best if you leave the food here. Maybe we can take it to go.”
“Go where?” Anthony halted in place. “She’s not going anywhere. She needs to rest.”
“We have a stakeout scheduled for tonight at the nursery. Someone’s stealing the plants, and Lacey offered to help.”
Anthony’s lips were zipped. “Nope. She’s staying right here. She’s exhausted.”
“I can speak for myself!” I said. “I’m right here. Pregnant, not deaf, remember? Anthony, it’s no big deal if I go sit in the car for a few hours. I’ll do some laps around the parking lot. It’ll be good for me.”
“You heard Dr. Gambino,” he argued. “If it’s dangerous—”
“Watching over plants is dangerous?” I asked. “Look, I’m not chasing anyone. A palm tree moves faster than I do. I’m just giving Meg some company.”
“You’re not going to win this one,” Meg said. “So maybe we should let it go. And by we, I mean you, Tony.”
“Don’t call me Tony.”
“What happened in here, anyway?” Meg glanced around. “It’s a mess.”
“I packed for the hospital.” I gestured to the door. “My finished suitcase is over there. Do you mind moving it to the front door, Anthony?”
He glanced down to the suitcase and reached out a foot. He nudged the top open with his toe. Then he considered the contents for a few long moments before he sighed.
“Um, sweetheart?”
“Yes?” I asked sweetly.
“There’s nothing in here but sugar.”
“I beg to differ,” I said. “There are other nutrients, in addition to sugar. I packed Snickers for protein. Pixie Stix are to give me energy. The Lucky Charms are so I don’t go into withdrawal while we’re away.”
“Yeah...” Anthony ran a hand over his forehead, struggling. “How about the things the doctor suggested? Practical things. Clothing. Socks. Underwear.”
“Like you said, it’s only for a night,” I told him. “I don’t need much in the way
of things.”
“Just candy,” he said on a sigh. “I don’t think they’ll let you eat all this in the hospital.”
Meg laughed, then let out a low whistle. “I don’t want to see the poor nurse who steps between Lacey and her sweets during the birthing process, do you?”
Anthony winced. “I’m going to just pack this up. Maybe I’ll throw a few of your things in my bag, how about that?”
I sank back onto the bed. “Sorry. I am feeling a little crazy. I’m nervous, and I’m clueless, and—”
“Probably low energy,” Meg said. “Anthony, you move the suitcase, I’ll bring the food. We can eat before the stakeout.”
“Let’s discuss this stakeout further,” he said through gritted teeth as he bent for the suitcase. “In the kitchen.”
“I’m right here!” I called through the mostly-closed door while Meg and Anthony disappeared to discuss. “Hey, come back!”
I gave up as plates and forks and knives started clinking in the kitchen, and by the time Meg and Anthony had come to an agreement on the stakeout and prepared dinner, I was fast asleep.
The need to pee woke me at 2:30, 3:14, 3:18, and 4:02.
By four a.m., I figured I was awake. After all, I’d slept through dinner the night before and made good progress on my zzz’s up until Sprout started punching my bladder.
My stomach growled in annoyance. It’d been years, maybe a lifetime, since I’d skipped a meal, and both my stomach and the baby’s were revolting at the outrage.
I tiptoed into the kitchen, praying desperately for one little leftover square of lasagna. I’d just barely pulled the fridge open when a spotlight landed on my face.
“There you are,” Meg said, holding a flashlight directly into my eyes. “About time. I figured you’d be up sooner or later.”
“Put the light down!” I hissed, holding a hand in front of my eyes. “What are you still doing here? And why are you awake?”
“I’m not still here,” Meg said, and I noticed she’d gone home and changed into her infamous camo vest. She also held two huge Styrofoam cups of coffee in front of her body. “I’m back. Anthony and I discussed. He said he didn’t mind all that much if you hang out at a plant nursery, but not if it interferes with your sleep, and only if you don’t do anything dangerous.”
“Okay...”
“What with you falling asleep at the senior citizen’s dinner hour, I figured you’d be ready to go to the stakeout first thing in the morning. For most of us not-lame folks, it’s still the middle of the night, not the start to the morning, but I’m splitting hairs.”
“Great. Can I eat now?”
“I brought you coffee.”
“You know I gave up caffeine.”
“Right,” Meg said, unsurprised. “Bummer. Guess I got two for myself.”
I hauled out the mangled leftovers of the Marinello lasagna and shoveled it into my mouth. Meg watched, looking impressed.
“I’ll buy you breakfast if you come hang out with me,” she offered. “Mickey’s diner.”
I squinted at her. “Are you actually paying this time?”
She nodded. “Grab some toilet paper, your jacket, and a book.”
“Toilet paper?”
“Woman, you pee every two seconds. I’m not responsible if you run the nursery clear out of their supply. Now let’s go, chop chop, or we’ll miss the criminal. And bring Veenie-baby. He needs some time around his friends, or else he’ll be in danger of becoming anti-social.”
I rolled my eyes, but did as she suggested. We loaded up the car with snacks, toilet paper, and warm clothing before climbing into the vehicle Meg had borrowed from Clay.
“I can’t believe Clay let you borrow his baby,” I said, looking around at the inside of the spaceship level van. “He doesn’t let anyone touch it.”
“Oh, he doesn’t know I touched it,” she said. “But I figure, what’s mine is his, right? And what’s his is mine.”
I swallowed. “I am not taking the blame for this one.”
“Sure thing,” Meg said as we pulled into the parking lot for Mickey’s diner. “By the way, do you have ten bucks?”
I narrowed my eyes at her, stomped to the counter, and ordered my own breakfast buffet.
“That’s enough to feed a family of...yeah,” Meg said, backing away. “I didn’t say anything. Your hash browns smell delicious.”
I smacked her hand away as she leaned over, angling for a sample. “Drive.”
We settled into place by a quarter to five. The world was still dark, though my body was now wide awake. A novelty to me, seeing as the only time I’d seen five a.m. before was on the other side of things.
“Just think,” I told Meg, once she’d parked the van in a clump of trees near the rear of the nursery grounds. “If I got up at this time every day, I could actually do things. I could exercise and run errands and...I don’t know, read a book or something. All before lunch.”
“Don’t be silly,” Meg said. “Morning people don’t actually exist. They’re like unicorns.”
I nodded, agreeing. In silence, we munched our food and watched some plants grow. It was dull business. It was especially dull trying to watch Venus grow in his little pot on the dashboard because he kept drooping over.
“You think he’s dead?” Meg asked.
“No, he can’t be,” I said, leaning closer. “If I can’t even care for a plant, what sort of mother will I be?”
“We’ll find out soon enough.” At my horrified look, she shrugged. “I guess that was too honest, huh? You’ll be great, Lacey. Nobody’s worried about you. And Veenie-baby is definitely dead.”
“Gee, you are one shining beacon of inspiration today.”
“I try. You’re not going to burst into tears again, are you? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Not feeling the tears.” I munched on a hash brown. “Feeling the annoyance. And speaking of annoyance, I’m really annoyed at Ginger and Legs and Blondie.”
“What’d they do to you?”
I gave Meg a moment to think about it on her own time.
“Oh, right. They stole from you,” she said. “Carry on.”
“And Detective Rankle, do you get the feeling he’s not taking us seriously?”
Meg nodded. “Why do you think I resigned from the force? He’s not the first male in a position of power who thinks a woman’s place is in the kitchen. Or the bedroom resting, like he told you.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t resign.”
“No, but I might have if they hadn’t fired me first,” she said. “I’ve been saying this all along, Lacey. If we don’t do the job ourselves, nobody’s going to do it right. We have to go after the Femme Fatale if we want to get your ring back. Your mother’s ring,” she corrected, going for the sentimental punch.
It worked. “I would agree with you, normally. But what am I supposed to do about this?”
Meg eyed my stomach as I gestured to it. “Use it to your advantage. We got pregnant parking advantages. You don’t look the least bit suspicious. Plus, you pee all the time. You could go into any building and ask to use the restroom—who’s gonna say no to you? Lacey, just think. You have access to anywhere you want to go.”
“That doesn’t help if we have nowhere to go.”
“I see your point, and I raise you one.” She lifted a finger valiantly. “We were under the impression the ladies work near the mall where they shopped, right? It makes sense. Three ladies working, head out for lunch break. You don’t cross the city to walk laps around the mall. My new friend Henrietta said they frequent the place; it’s not a one-time deal.”
“So, if we go back to the mall and search the nearby area...”
“It might jog something in our brains.” Meg tapped her noggin and it thunked hollow. We both ignored it. “And it’s not exactly dangerous to walk laps around the mall—it’s good for you. In fact, I’ll bet you Dr. Gambino would agree with me.”
I licked the last of the ketchup off
my spoon. Then I opened up another packet and squirted it into my empty Styrofoam container as Meg watched me, disgusted.
“That is so gross,” she said. “Of all things you could crave, it’s ketchup with a spoon?”
“Oh, that’s not new,” I said, licking a stray bit from my fingers. “I’ve loved ketchup since we were little. It just grosses people out, so I mostly eat it privately. What do you say we give this plant-napper until sunrise to show up? He or she can’t be stupid enough to try and rob the place in daylight. Then we can head to the mall and do a little reconnaissance. If we eat in the food court over the lunch hour, who knows? Maybe we’ll spot the ladies.”
“You know, they’re probably not all that different than us,” Meg said, considering. “Three ladies making their way in the male dominated world.”
“Criminal world,” I corrected.
“Um, have you looked at your grandfather?” Meg asked. “You aren’t the picture of a straight and narrow family. The detective peed his pants at the mention of your last name.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe they are nice ladies wrapped up in something...bigger,” I admitted with a pout. “But I still want my ring back.”
“We’ll get it. After the mall, we can—” Meg broke off mid thought. “There he is! Plant-napper! Go get him, Lacey!”
I stared at her. “Uh, unh. No way. I get heartburn after ketchup. Also, I told you that anything dangerous, and you’re on your own.”
Meg threw the door open and slid out from behind the steering wheel. She took off flying after the culprit, a big fellow—likely male, judging by the size of his body and the shoe prints we’d found—halfway up the fence.
Meg’s delay in climbing from the van turned out to be a good thing. When Meg hollered for help, I jumped in to play the role of active partner by holding up my phone and zooming in to snap photos. The photos were mostly dark blurs of movement on a dark background, so I set it down and cracked open another packet of ketchup.