“Mm. Finn hungry.” He tore into the pretzel and broke off a large section.
“You don’t have to play Neanderthal to get my attention.”
“That was my best Brendan Fraser.”
“Not necessary. Scott Finnegan is enough for me.” She smiled, and something inside him warmed. In her blue jeans, nubby sweater, and sunglasses, Sydney Cho was urban chic and adorable at the same time. He wanted to kiss her here in the sunny square, in front of the world, but he wasn’t sure she was ready for that level of exposure. He contented himself with moving his hand to her knee. “Thanks for coming into town with us.”
“No problem. I needed to get some hiking gear.” In the same movement she gave Wiley another piece of pretzel with one hand and sank her fingers into Finn’s hair, just above his ear. With a movement that sent shivers over his scalp, she stroked his hair back, leaned down, and kissed him. She made it seem simple, organic.
And she made it clear that they were on the same page.
She was just what he needed in his life: an economy of motion and drama.
* * *
When I arrived in Tacoma a week before Christmas, the station was trimmed with greenery, shiny ornaments, and starry white lights. It was the first time in my college career that I had my own place to go for a holiday, and the sight of lit candles in the windows of the row houses near the station brought tears to my eyes. In colonial times, those candles were a sign of welcome to family and travelers. Welcome home.
The sun was setting, but it was just light enough to make out the parking lot. Joe was waiting there, leaning against the fender of his truck. He waved me over, gave me a bear hug, and stowed my luggage in the back.
“This is going to be the best Christmas ever.” He waited for me to get my seat belt on, and then backed the truck out of its spot. “Wait until you see Rebecca. She’s hit all the two-month milestones,” he said proudly. “She can hold her head steady, and she’ll try to grab at that duck you gave her. It’s like she’s just discovering that her arms can work for her. She’s amazing.”
“I knew she’d love that duck.” It was a ridiculous thing to say since Rebecca was just seven weeks old and how could an infant have a like or dislike in the toy world? Still, I beamed with pride.
“She’ll suck her fingers,” Joe said. “That’s a two-month marker, too. And she really loves her pacifier. Amy is worried about her getting too attached to it, so we’re doing some research on it. The pediatrician thinks it’s okay, so I’m inclined to let her have it.” Joe shot me a glance. “When you find something in life that takes you to your happy place, I think you need to go for it.”
“Unless it’s drugs and alcohol,” I said.
“For sure! Hell, yeah. But it’s going so well, and I’m glad you’re here to spend Christmas with us.”
“Me, too.” I had avoided coming here for Thanksgiving. Back in November, I had kept my calls and texts to Joe and Amy to a minimum, afraid that someone would overhear and make the connection to Rebecca’s birth mother. I’d lied to Joe and Amy about that, but I figured it was a lie for their protection. As everyone here in Washington believed I was the mother, there hadn’t been a problem getting a birth certificate and giving custody of Rebecca to my brother and his wife. If the authorities knew she wasn’t my baby, she would have been sent to child services and adopted by a family on the waiting list. Nope, nope, nope. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“See the boats out there?” Joe pointed toward the Sound, on my side of the car. “That’s the holiday parade.” The water of the Sound was black, almost invisible in the night, but small boats festooned with multicolored lights moved along in a line in the distance as we drove along the rim road. There was a boat with a pink flamingo and flashing palm trees. Another had a giant Santa face and Santa’s sled full of toys.
“Very cool.”
“We’ll take Rebecca to see the parade when she’s old enough. Maybe even next year. She’ll be walking by then. Can you believe it? Most kids start walking at around twelve months.”
“You’ve been doing your research,” I said. “Good job, Daddy.”
“Well, I had to hit it fast. Having a kid seemed like mission impossible for us until you turned it all around. I’m grateful, Em. I know it was really hard for you, and I don’t want it ever to be awkward between us.”
“And this is the last time we’re going to talk about that part, okay?” I needed to move on from the past, and I didn’t want Rebecca’s roots coming up when Rory or my friends came to visit after Christmas. “You and Amy are Rebecca’s parents now, and I think that makes her the luckiest kid in the world.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Auntie Em.”
I smacked his arm. Brothers.
The porch of their tiny Victorian cottage was strung with blinking Christmas lights and a wreath was hung on the door, which opened as we pulled into the driveway. Amy stood in the doorway holding Rebecca, the two of them silhouetted by amber light.
My new family. I was so ready to be an aunt, a sister, a friend.
I ran inside to a big round of hugs. Amy offered to make me a latte with her new coffeemaker, and as she worked in the kitchen I stood at the counter and entertained Rebecca, who was strapped into her infant seat.
Sometimes her blue eyes were so enormous, so impossibly large for her little head. And her downy soft hair was pale and golden as a summer beach. That was one of the surprises of Rebecca. Right now she looked nothing like Lydia or Graham, who both had ebony hair and mahogany eyes. Ironically, she looked a lot like me. I suspected that Lydia had lied about the baby’s paternity, too, and I hoped the baby’s biological father possessed more of a moral center than the young man currently awaiting trial for murder.
But none of that mattered. She was now Rebecca Danelski, daughter of Amy and Joe.
“You are such a lucky little girl,” I said. “Lucky ducky.” I dangled the ducky above her, and her little face lit up with joy. Gaping mouth, bright eyes, pudgy hands. She was a bundle of wonder as she reached for the fluffy yellow toy.
“Are we having fun yet?” I asked, giddy with love. “Are we having fun?”
She chortled and kicked her little legs. I took that as a yes.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
PRETTY,
NASTY,
LOVELY
Rosalind Noonan
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are included to enhance your group’s reading of Rosalind Noonan’s
Pretty, Nasty, Lovely!
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Every character in the novel possesses some sort of secret: something tender from their past that they don’t mention, or something that they hold dear and reverent like their sorority ritual. Do you think that most people have secrets? What circumstances would justify revealing a secret?
2. Upon learning that someone jumped from the bridge, Emma sees sorrow ahead. “Even the suicide of a total stranger was going to be upsetting; I knew the ripple effects of a tragedy, the mothers, fathers, sisters, and friends who ached in grief as they fumbled through a world of loss. I’d been twelve when my mom and sister Delilah had been killed in a car crash that left me unscathed; I understood how the tragedy of a few seconds could impact the rest of your life.” Can you pinpoint a moment or event in your life that changed your path or your perspective?
3. What did Lydia’s secret life entail? What do you think drove her to create the mythology of a Greek business tycoon’s granddaughter?
4. Suicide is one of the leading causes of death among college students in the United States. In what way does the Merriwether University campus lend itself to suicides? Discuss ways that college administrators might address this issue.
5. An old saying advises, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” How does that apply in Emma’s relationship with “frenemies” like Tori and Courtney?
6. Emma’s yearning for sisterhood was heightened by the loss of her moth
er and sister. What unfinished business with the women in her family might have driven her to pledge a sorority? What details of her sister’s death pushed Emma to research suicide?
7. When a female student gives birth in a college dorm, the event is often cloaked in denial and lack of medical care. Although there is sometimes a stigma attached to the student mother, some universities provide special housing for student mothers and families. Should a university make special accommodations for student mothers? What sort of policy should a sorority like Theta Pi have for unwed student mothers?
8. How does Dr. Sydney Cho grow through the course of the novel?
9. Before college, Emma is adrift, estranged from her father and brother. How does sorority life fulfill her need to have a family?
10. By the end of the novel, Emma has experienced the benefits and hazards of sisterhood in a sorority. What are the pros and cons of pledging a sorority like Theta Pi?
11. What kind of father will Finn turn out to be? How about Emma’s brother, Joe? Do you think Emma’s father, Gary, has the potential to connect with his daughter in the future?
12. What do you think the bridges in the novel symbolize?
Pretty, Nasty, Lovely Page 28