“I know it’s going to be hard on you physically, but I will be there every step of the way.”
“I know, sweetie. I’ll try not to swear like a sailor when my vagina is being stretched to infinity.”
“You have my permission to say anything that will get you through,” Parker said, touching Amy’s cheek.
They heard a thump, thump, thump at the bedroom door. It was Rascal’s way of telling them he had been locked out of the bedroom long enough. Rascal had been excited all morning, knowing he was going to a party. As soon as he saw the packed bag, containing potato chips and a watermelon, he began chasing his tail and yipping excitedly. Amy didn’t know if it was the potato chips, of which Rascal was quite fond, or the watermelon that he was allowed to roll around the backyard before it was cut open, that gave it away.
Amy and Parker didn’t cook well, so Steph always had them bring two things. Although Parker’s cooking was improving, she suffered from performance anxiety when it came to bringing her creations out for everyone to see. Steph had taught her how to make spinach roll-ups with cream cheese and black olives and it’d been a hit at the last soiree. Amy figured Steph was cutting them some slack now because of the big news. Since the stress of planning a wedding had thwarted them so far: what would having a baby do? Well, the baby was going to show up regardless of their plans… or lack thereof.
“We need to get married,” Amy said. “Soon.”
“I’ve been working on simplifying our plans. I have a feeling the baby is going to make us simplify a lot of things.”
The door handle jiggled.
“Uh oh,” Amy said, “here he comes.”
It hadn’t taken Rascal long to figure out how to open doors. He would stand on his back legs, grip the handles in his jaws, bite down, and twist. As a result, all the door handles in the house had teeth marks and dried slobber on them.
Suddenly, the door flew open and eighty-five pounds of brown and white fur came bursting in and leapt on the bed. He licked Amy’s face and then Parker’s before either of them had time to deflect it.
“All right, boy, we’re getting up,” Parker said.
“Who wants to go to a party?” Amy asked, clapping her hands.
Rascal barked, jumped off the bed, grabbed Amy’s pants in his jaws and hopped back on the bed.
***
Steph was in full barbeque mode and loving it. The kitchen counter was covered with side dishes—macaroni salad, a veggie platter with dip, rolls, baked beans, and green beans with almond slivers tossed in a tangy vinaigrette. She was still perfecting her recipe for the vinaigrette. Rosa had always kidded her about packaging and selling her special dressing someday. Who knew? She just might. She could be the next Paul Newman.
Steph taste-tested the dressing. “I think it needs a wee bit more basil,” she said.
“It’s always a wee bit more of something with you,” Rosa said. She swatted Steph on the butt.
“And you like that something,” Steph teased back.
Rosa smiled. She was glad that the stress their relationship had suffered because of her accident had dissipated. They were stronger now than before. It seemed that some couples suffered a tragedy and it ripped them apart and other couples managed to pull themselves back together, weather the tough moments, and come out stronger. Last year’s tragedy proved they were the kind of couple who made it through. For that she was grateful. She’d lost her partner, Glen, and she’d lost her position as a beat cop, but she still had Steph. It was Steph’s constant love that helped heal the pain of Rosa’s loss.
“You okay with seeing Amy and Parker?” Steph asked gently.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I adore those two, you know that.”
Steph stared at Rosa. “You know what I mean.”
Rosa caved. “I’m fine. I’d be even better if you’d stop bringing it up. I don’t want you mother-henning me all night. I’m good with this. I’m happy for them and I’ll make sure that we’re at the top of the babysitting list.”
“Good. They’ll need date nights. That’s why it’s so important to have a network. Otherwise the romance part of a marriage suffers when couples have children. I want them to have time together,” Steph said.
“You need to stop worrying. They’ve got it all under control,” Rosa said, taking a fork and pulling out a green bean. “This is good. I think you’ve perfected it.”
“No, it needs more basil.”
“You never can just leave things be.”
“No, I can’t. Speaking of which, I need to figure out a way to get Tamika and Ruth together,” Steph said.
“Ugh. Why can’t you leave the romancing to the people it actually concerns?”
“Because some people never get around to it. If I hadn’t pestered you to go out with me, we’d never have gotten together, met awesome friends, and finally gotten married,” Steph said.
“Wrong,” Rosa said, snagging another green bean. “I was going to ask you out. You just beat me to it.”
Steph moved the dish of green beans out of Rosa’s reach, saying, “I waited three whole days and my weekend off was coming up. Since it didn’t appear you’d taken the hint, and I’d have to wait another rotation if you didn’t ask, I was forced to take matters into my own hands.”
“Is she trying to fix Ruth and Tamika up?” Parker asked, stepping into the kitchen. She was carrying ice and chips in one hand, had a small watermelon tucked under her arm, and a twelve pack of Corona in the other hand.
“Don’t make two trips or anything,” Steph scolded, taking the watermelon before Parker dropped it.
Rascal almost knocked Steph over as he came rushing into the kitchen. He moved to jump up on Rosa, but she raised her hand in a stop gesture and he skidded to a halt. He looked up at Rosa with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and waited eagerly for her to pet him. His tail thumped like a bass drum on the kitchen floor.
“Good boy,” Rosa said. She reached into the biscuit jar and held one out to him. He gingerly took it from her fingers. He looked up at her adoringly. Rosa scratched behind his ears.
“How’d you know about Ruth and Tamika?” Steph asked.
“Susan told me,” Parker said. “And then I saw Ruth at the Gas Mart and she told me that you were trying to fix her up. The only one that isn’t talking is Tamika.”
“Am I that obvious?” Steph said. She took the chips and ice from Parker.
“Yes!” Rosa and Parker said simultaneously.
“I’m going to have to work on that,” Steph said. “My skills must be getting rusty.”
“Where’s Amy?” Rosa asked.
“She had to run by the paper. Millie called with the shooting contest dates. Amy wanted to switch out her column on the aphid epidemic to the history of Millie and her Militia and how they came to be sharpshooters. She thinks old ladies with guns is more interesting than old ladies with flowers. I don’t think the Fenton Rose Garden Club is going to agree, but Amy is pretty good at smoothing ruffled feathers. She’ll have Luke take a bunch of pictures of their gardens and put it in next Sunday’s supplement. That should appease them.”
“Contest?” Rosa said. “No one told me about any shooting contest.”
Rosa was still not comfortable with the senior citizens being armed. She wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t dangerous. Millie’s Militia had bake sales on a regular basis at the VFW to augment their ammunition budget because as Millie said, “How else can a person on Social Security afford ammo?”
The town was torn into two factions: those who supported gun control and those who didn’t. Then there was Millie and her Militia. They supported gun control, but still armed themselves. As Millie was fond of saying, “I will turn in my gun whenever the government finally makes them illegal. Until then, I don’t want white men to be the only people armed.”
“Allen Spencer over at Top Gun is sponsoring a shooting contest. One thousand dollars for first place,” Parker said. “Mabel is sure she’s going to win.”
“Is that a good idea?” Rosa asked.
As a police officer, Rosa didn’t like the thought of civilians owning guns. It made her job harder and more dangerous. She had been shot in the back last year during a drug deal. Everything had spun off track when the next-door neighbor came out of her house wielding a shotgun.
Parker said, “I agree with you, Rosa. I don’t like guns either. But at least Allen is teaching people how to be responsible and safe.”
Before Rosa could say anything else, Amy entered the kitchen. She was carrying a pie.
“Is that one of Molly’s famous pecan pies?” Steph asked.
“Yep,” Amy said. “I couldn’t help myself. I went by Molly’s to pick up scones and coffee for Jeb. I felt bad about changing my column at the last minute because he had to come in and change the layout. This pecan pie called my name while I was getting the scones. It took great restraint on our part not to eat it at the office.”
“You could’ve. We wouldn’t have minded,” Steph said. “Jeb might not need it, but you’re eating for two now.”
Amy greeted Parker with a kiss on the cheek. “Clementine has him on a nutritional system. She doesn’t call it a diet because that word has a negative connotation. I don’t think he’s going to tell her about the scone. He’s lost five pounds already and has ten to go.” Amy shook her head. “He’s going to lose his belly and I’m going to get one.”
Rosa hugged Amy warmly. “You could use a few pounds.” She laughed lightly. “My god, I just sounded like my mother.”
“Don’t worry, Amy. I’ll be your personal trainer after the baby. I’ll have that baby weight off you in no time,” Steph said.
“I’ll help. We’ll do a lot of couple’s yoga,” Parker said and waggled her eyebrows suggestively
Everyone froze, looking at Parker, wide-eyed.
“What’s wrong?” Parker asked.
“That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Steph said. “And I’ve known you for a long time.”
“What did I do?” Parker asked.
“I think you made a sexual innuendo,” Amy said. “Which is highly unusual for you.”
“As in has never happened before, ever,” Steph said. “And you waggled your eyebrows. I didn’t even know you could waggle.”
“Oh,” Parker said. “This is embarrassing. I’m going out to the back deck. I’ll put the beer in the cooler.”
“You can’t run away from me,” Steph said. “I’m putting the steaks on the grill.”
“Okay, but please don’t talk to me about what just happened,” Parker said. “I promise I will never waggle again.”
“I won’t bring it up,” Steph said. She walked out of the kitchen carrying a platter of marinated steaks.
“Thank you, it’ll save me further embarrassment,” Parker said. She followed Steph out to the backyard.
“Do you have anything unleaded to drink?” Amy asked Rosa.
“Coming right up.” Rosa got out a sparkling water and a glass for Amy.
“My partying days are over for a while,” Amy said, taking the water. She drank deeply. “It seems like I’m always thirsty or hungry. I need more of everything. I haven’t had a lot of cravings yet, but I can’t wait to see what this child will unleash upon us.”
“Let me guess, you both don’t want to know its gender?”
“You’ve got us pegged,” Amy said. She smiled.
“I think it’s kind of fun. But it’ll wreak havoc on the baby shower that Steph is planning.”
“Like Parker says, go yellow. The color of sunshine. It’s part of bringing a child into a bright and shiny world void of the constraints of gender,” Amy said. She finished her water.
Rosa poured her another. “That sounds just like Parker.”
“Yes, it does,” Amy said. She chuckled.
“You two are going to make great parents,” Rosa said. She turned to the counter and poured a glass of wine.
“I just wish Parker and I had met earlier in life. Having a baby at my age concerns me, but Dr. Chen says that we’re in good shape. I just hope that I don’t miscarry. There is always the risk of that. It would break my heart, but it’s Parker I’m really worried about.”
Rosa turned back around to face Amy. “It’s hard on both partners. The pregnant one thinks it’s their fault and the partner feels helpless.”
“Did you and Steph ever want kids?” Amy asked. “You two would make awesome parents.”
Rosa didn’t look at her. Instead, she ran her forefinger around the top of her wine glass. “We almost did. I lost it.”
Amy looked stunned by Rosa’s revelation. “I didn’t… I’m so sorry,” Amy fumbled.
Rosa didn’t know why she told Amy. It had just slipped out. She had decided not to tell Amy because she didn’t want there to be a cloud over Amy’s joy.
It wasn’t the kind of thing Rosa would’ve wanted to be told when she was pregnant. Or maybe she would have. Maybe it would’ve prepared her for the possibilities of what can happen. The problem with becoming a mother is that no one can prepare you for the dreaded possibilities of grief—that there is no guarantee, even in the beginning, that things will work.
Before Rosa knew it, Amy had her arms wrapped around her. “I had no idea,” Amy said. “I would’ve never been so cavalier with my words.”
“I’ve never told anyone,” Rosa said. “Steph knows, of course. And Susan. She was the one who came when it happened. I shouldn’t have told you. I know you’ll have to tell Parker. Couples can’t keep secrets like that. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to take away from your… joy.”
Amy let Rosa go. They both wiped away a tear.
***
“So, how’s the parenting thing coming along?” Steph asked. She slapped the steaks on the grill.
“I don’t know yet. Shouldn’t there be a child first?” Parker said. She loaded the cooler with beer bottles, wedged the ice in around them, and poured the rest of the ice on top.
“Smart ass. I mean, how are you feeling about being a dad?” Steph said, flipping the steaks so they get a good scald on both sides. She shut the lid on the barbeque.
“I don’t know that I’ll be ‘dad.’ I thought I would just be Parker.”
“Because you don’t want the kid to get mixed up, or you’re not comfortable with being a mother, or you’re one of those parents that likes their children to call their parents by their first names?”
“I hadn’t thought of all that. I’ve just always been Parker. What’s wrong with that? Social mores dictate the whole naming thing. Dads are considered males and moms are women. So why would I want to refer to myself as a male when I’m not? I’m very tied to my femaleness, despite being a carpenter.”
“What does being a carpenter have to do with anything?”
“Because when people hire me, they assume I’m a man because my name is Parker and I’m a carpenter.”
“Well, that does kind of make sense.” Steph lifted the lid of the barbeque and flipped the steaks.
“The same thing would happen if the child told people mom and dad are coming. People would expect a woman and a man. It would confuse the parents as well as the other children. I will be Parker and Amy will be mama and that will make more sense to everybody.”
“To you,” Steph said.
“Yes. To me.”
“Why didn’t you want to carry the baby?” Steph asked.
“Because Amy wanted to.”
“Touchy question, but what about the Alzheimer thing?”
Parker opened them two beers and handed one to Steph. Steph took a swig.
“It’s my egg,” Parker answered.
Steph spewed her beer toward Parker who took a step back just in time. She was fond of the shirt and didn’t want it to smell like beer.
“Well, that would’ve been some good info to know,” Steph said, wiping the dribbled beer off her own shirt.
“Why?”
Steph seemed to ponder
this. “I don’t rightly know.”
“We decided that my egg, with Amy carrying the baby, made it a little bit of all of us.” Even though she and Amy had weighed all the options and discussed it, Parker had wanted it this way from the beginning. It made sense to her. It was a good bonding device, like an employee-owned company. It made them both feel vested in the success of the endeavor.
“Okay, now that I kind of get that, how in the hell did you pick out a sperm donor so quickly when you can’t even sort out a wedding? That one really has me going,” Steph said.
“Even more so than trying to figure out how to get Ruth and Tamika together?” Rosa asked playfully, as she came through the back door. She carried the plates and Amy had the silverware to set up on the outdoor table.
“We didn’t choose the donor,” Amy said.
“What?” both Rosa and Steph said simultaneously.
“We put all the folders of the potential donors on the dining room table face down and eeny, meeny, miny, moed it,” Amy said.
Parker stood stoic, revealing nothing.
“Really?” Steph said. She looked flabbergasted. “You couldn’t possibly have done that.”
Rosa didn’t look so sure. “Confess. As an officer of the law, I demand the truth.”
Amy busied herself setting the table. Without looking up, she said, “Okay, that’s not what we did.”
Steph said, “Whew. You had me going there.”
“But we didn’t pick out the donor,” Parker said.
“What do you mean? Who did?” Rosa asked.
“Millie and Bernie. All we specified was that he be a good man. Millie had a good husband and she knew Amy’s father. Bernie had veto power as Amy’s only living relative. They were both very keen on the same donor as it turned out. That way we circumvented our tendency to procrastinate,” Parker said.
Steph nodded. “Brilliant.”
“Maybe they should arrange the wedding too,” Rosa said with a chuckle.
Parker’s face lit up. “That’s not a bad idea. They are good at arranging things.”
“They certainly are,” Amy said. She rubbed her tummy, adding, “Maybe too good.”
Cross Your Heart Page 4