Miss February (The Calendar Girl Duet Book 1)

by Karen Cimms

  “Yes, I’m fine, sorry,” Rain said.

  I scooped Izzy up in my arms and put the snow globe back on the shelf. “Come sit with me.” She wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “Are we going to open presents now?”

  “In a few minutes.”

  “This child’s been waiting long enough,” my mother insisted. “If Rain is okay, we should forge ahead.” She glanced at her watch. “The lamb has to rest for twenty more minutes, so we have enough time before dinner.”

  Rain squeezed my hand. “Let’s open presents first.”

  I squeezed back.

  It surprised and pleased me when my mother asked Izzy if she would like to pass out the gifts. Maybe she’d had a change of heart. At least she was trying, even though I’d practically had to twist her arm to invite us over for dinner. She’d wanted just me to join them at my brother’s on Christmas Day, which was bullshit, and exactly what I’d told her. Since Dylan and Lorraine—or more likely, Lorraine—wouldn’t relent when it came to Rain, if my mother wanted to see me for Christmas, she would see all of us.

  Like most things she did, Izzy took the task of distributing gifts seriously. The first one she picked up was for Rain from my mother, and a surge of relief rushed through me. I hated to admit it, but I’d worried that my mother might have bought gifts for only me.

  Smiling, Rain tore into the brightly colored paper to unveil a perfume gift set. There were six or seven different kinds in the box, and since I wasn’t familiar with any of them, I assumed none of them were pricey selections. It was probably something she grabbed at Target, but at least it was a gift.

  “Thank you,” Rain gushed as if it were the thing she’d most wanted this Christmas.

  I rubbed my palm atop her thigh. I loved the way she smelled, and I hated the idea of her changing her scent in any way.

  “I didn’t know what type of fragrance you wore, so I bought you a selection,” my mother explained.

  Izzy clapped her hands. “Open it, Mommy. I want to smell.”

  Oh, hell no. The last thing we needed was Rain to get a whiff of something that didn’t agree with her, and she’d be off to the bathroom again.

  “Hey, Iz. Isn’t there something under there for you?”

  Fortunately, six-year-olds were easily distracted, even those as precocious as Izzy. While she searched through the boxes under the tree, I tucked the perfume gift set on the floor beside me.

  “Here’s one! And it’s heavy.” Izzy tore into the paper, ripping it to shreds.

  “Thank you,” Rain whispered.

  I wrapped my hand around hers. “I got you. Don’t worry.”

  Izzy stared down at the cardboard box from Amazon that she’d just unwrapped, then looked up at my mother. “Thank you for the nice box.”

  My mother just looked surprised, while I tried not to laugh out loud. Rain was struggling as well.

  “I bet there’s something in that box.” I crouched on the floor beside Izzy, and using my car keys, slit open the tape sealing the box shut. I let her open it the rest of the way.

  “Books!” Izzy cried, trying to lift a boxed set of Anne of Green Gables out of the box.

  My mother seemed genuinely happy at Izzy’s response. “I loved these books as a girl. I hope you don’t already have them.”

  “I don’t,” said Izzy. “Daddy, will you read these to me?”

  Rain tensed beside me, while my mother recoiled as if a snake had slithered out from under the tree.

  “Of course I will. I’d be honored.”

  Izzy stepped over the torn wrappings, approached my mother, and threw her arms around her neck.

  “Thank you. I love them.”

  My mother gave her a quick hug, ending it with a little tap on the back. “You’re very welcome. Chase, I have some gifts here for you, of course.”

  “Izzy, why don’t you give Chase’s mother her gift from us first?” Rain said.

  I had wanted our gifts to my mother to be from both of us, but Rain had insisted she wanted to buy something from her and Izzy. She’d found an antique music box with Clara holding the Nutcracker. When you wound it up, it played the “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy.” It had been far too expensive, but she’d insisted on buying it herself. It was beautiful, and something my mother would love, but it made me sad to think Rain felt that she had to buy my mother’s affection.

  My mother unwrapped the gift and lifted it out of the box. “Oh, how nice. A music box. Thank you.” She returned it to the box.

  “It plays the ‘Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy,’” Rain said.

  “Yes, that would make sense, wouldn’t it?” She folded the lid on the box and slid it under the tree.

  Heat flooded my face. I’d never thought of my mother as petty. She’d instilled manners in us from the time we could talk. I wanted to ask her to step into the other room, just like she would have done if I’d been that rude. Since that wasn’t an option, I tried to coax an appropriate response out of her. “It’s an antique, Mom,” I added.

  “Yes, I could see that. It’s very nice.” She pulled several boxes out from under the tree and handed them to me. “Here, you should open these so I can get dinner on the table.”

  I did as I was told, but there was little joy in opening any more gifts. My mother had already overreacted to Izzy calling me Daddy, and we hadn’t even broached the topic of Rain’s pregnancy. I opened my gifts quickly with little commentary—not that there was all that much to say about shirts and jeans. I even found it hard to raise much enthusiasm for Brent Celek’s Eagles jersey.

  Rain tugged the jersey out of my hands. “What’s this, Holgate? You never said you were an Eagles fan. This puts things in a whole new light.”

  She was kidding, of course. For the past three months, we’d watched football together practically every Sunday. Rain had even taken to making me a feast fit for a five-star tailgate, from chili to wings and everything in between, not to mention the rumble in my living room when the Giants and the Eagles faced off in October. She’d plopped down beside me at the start of the game in a too-tight Giants jersey and been a thorough distraction, complete with eye black under her eyes. She’d even dressed Izzy as a Giants cheerleader. When the Eagles pulled from behind in the first quarter, she’d stopped sharing her popcorn.

  “If you don’t like it, you can always take it back,” Mom said. “I’ll find the receipt.”

  What? “No. I love it. Rain’s kidding, Mom. She knows I’m a die-hard Eagles fan.”

  Ignoring my comment, my mother stood. “Well, you know best. Come, dinner’s ready.” She rose and left the room.

  Izzy followed, while Rain tugged on my arm.

  “When are you going to tell her?”

  “I guess I can tell her when we sit down. I don’t want to ask her to hold dinner any longer.”

  Rain nodded. “I guess, but I can’t eat that lamb. I can’t even smell it.”

  More and more, I was sorry I hadn’t just taken a ride out last weekend and told her when it was just the two of us. I don’t know why I’d thought it would be easier this way. Or maybe I was taking the coward’s way out, hoping she wouldn’t say anything negative if Rain and Izzy were here to hear it. I no longer believed that, but I prayed I was wrong.

  The table was set with my mother’s best dishes, and platters of sliced lamb, parslied potatoes, and buttered green beans filled the table along with a crystal bowl of mint jelly. There was also a large tossed salad, which I’d never been happier to see in my life. That mix of iceberg, romaine, and loose-leaf would hopefully buy me enough time to spring the news without Rain having to turn down yet another offering from my mother without good reason.

  My mother set a glass of milk down in front of Izzy, who was surveying the table with her nose scrunched. It seemed her mother wasn’t the only one who didn’t like lamb.

  “What would you like to drink, Rain? I have red wine to go with the lamb, but if you prefer a white—”

  “N
o wine for me, thank you. Water is fine. Or milk.”

  “Milk?”

  “Mom, why don’t you let me handle the drinks? You sit.”

  “Chase, I’m perfectly capable—”

  “Of course you are, but why should you? Sit.”

  I poured a glass of milk for Rain, and two glasses of red wine, one for me and one for my mother, although honestly, I would have preferred a six-pack of Heineken.

  After we said grace and the salad had been passed, I cleared my throat.

  “So, Mom, we have news.” I lifted Rain’s hand and tucked it in mine. “We’re having a baby. Rain’s pregnant.”

  Despite my fear over how my mother would react, the smile on my face was sincere. I was happy. I loved Rain, and I wanted to spend my life with her. We were just getting off to a faster start than most people might have expected.

  Mom’s fork clattered onto her plate. “You’re what?”

  Her eyes darted back and forth between me and Rain. She even swiveled to her left and looked at Izzy, perhaps to see if she would be the one to cry, “Just kidding!” Instead, Izzy nodded, her blond curls bouncing.

  “But you—I don’t understand. You just . . .” Her mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. “Chase! This is irresponsible. You hardly know one another.”

  Rain tugged at her hand, but I strengthened my grip. “It wasn’t planned, no, but we’re happy about it. Rain and Izzy have agreed to move in with me. We’re a family, and in June, we’ll be a bigger family.” I zeroed in on my mother and hoped that my look would communicate my expectation that she would at least be civil and levelheaded. “You’re going to be a grandmother.”

  “I’m already a grandmother. Your brother has a child and another on the way—or have you forgotten them already?”

  I guess she didn’t understand the look I’d given her, because that didn’t sound exactly civil.

  “Of course I haven’t forgotten.”

  Rain pulled harder, and her hand slipped free.

  “Look, Mrs. Holgate, this wasn’t planned. Unfortunately, things like this happen. But even still—”

  “I would guess you’re an expert in that department.”

  I threw my napkin down. “That’s enough.”

  There was a slight pressure on my arm, not a panicky grip this time. It was meant to soothe. Rain sensed I was about to lose it on my mother, and she was stepping in. For as nervous and afraid of my mother’s reaction as she’d been, the tables had been turned. Right now, she was the calm, focused one.

  “Yes, Mrs. Holgate, for better or for worse, I am an expert,” Rain said. “And I consider myself blessed in both cases.” She smiled at Izzy, who sat quietly, eyes wide open, not fully understanding what was happening. “And I do love your son, if that makes you feel any better.”

  For all she looked as if she’d been sucking on a lemon, my mother remained quiet. Thoughtful. Her back was ramrod straight, her jaw tight, and her chin raised. It was a familiar posture to me—Queen Geraldine, my brother and I used to call her. It was her body’s immediate reaction to any mention of my father, as if he were so far beneath her that she wouldn’t deign to acknowledge his existence. It bothered me to see her react to Rain’s heartfelt confession, but at least she’d ceased the attack. For now.

  But then the facade cracked, and she smiled. “I’m so sorry. You just caught me off guard. I was feeling a little peaked before you came from not eating earlier.” Her fingers flew to her chest, and she fingered the single strand of pearls that my grandmother had left her. “Please forgive me.”

  She swiveled toward Izzy. “And you, young lady! A new brother or sister. You must be very excited.”

  With her usual serious expression, Izzy nodded. “Yes, ma’am, but I don’t like that.” She pointed to the plate piled high with lamb.

  “Oh. Of course. How about peanut butter and jelly? I have some grape jelly that I made myself.” She smiled at Rain. “Did Chase tell you we have our own grape arbor? I know you’re a wonderful cook, but have you done any canning? It’s so satisfying. I’d love to teach you, if you’re interested.”

  To say my head was spinning was an understatement. I’d never witnessed such an about-face, but I wasn’t going to question it, especially when my appetite was returning and I was surrounded by the three people I loved the most.

  “I would love that, Mrs. Holgate. I adore grape jelly—and if you wouldn’t mind, could I also have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I’m not a huge fan of lamb, and thanks to this little one, there are too many things I can’t eat right now.”

  My mother pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “It’s no trouble at all. And please, call me Geraldine.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Who knew homemade grape jelly tasted so much better than the stuff from the grocery store? If Mrs. Holgate—it was going to take me awhile to feel comfortable enough to call her Geraldine—wanted to teach me, then I would be her willing student.

  I picked up the empty salad bowl and the half-empty plate of lamb, trying to breathe through my mouth, and carried them into the kitchen. Mrs. Holgate had excused herself for a moment—to the bathroom, I guess, although she seemed the type to never admit to something as base as that—and when she returned, she scolded me for clearing the table.

  “Rain. Sit! I insist. How about a nice cup of tea?” She began filling the teapot with water. “Herbal or decaf?”

  “Decaf is fine, thank you.”

  When Chase entered the kitchen with the rest of the dishes, I gave him a bright smile and a thumbs-up. He responded with a wink.

  “Chase, why don’t you take Izzy and show her your room?” his mother said.

  “You mean the shrine?”

  She batted his arm lovingly. “My boys tease me because I’ve left their rooms the same as when they were here. All of Chase’s trophies and awards are in there, including his jersey and his state champion football medal.” Her eyes were a bit damp as she continued. “You’re a mother, dear. You’ll see.”

  Chase ran a paper towel under the faucet and used it to gently clean Izzy’s face and hands. “C’mon, Iz. Let’s go see my shrine before my mother starts singing the Parkland alma mater.”

  Izzy slipped her hand in his. “What’s a shrine?”

  “It’s a tribute to my misspent youth.”

  Shaking her head, Mrs. Holgate chuckled softly. “Misspent youth. Hardly.”

  She carried two mugs of tea to the kitchen table, placed one before me, and sat. “Chase had a wonderful childhood, despite his father’s trying to tear our family apart.”

  The way her eyes suddenly bore into me, it was like I’d had something to do with his father’s abandonment. Chase had never said much about his father, and I hadn’t pushed. I added a spoonful of sugar to my tea and stirred.

  “And high school? Well, he was one of the most popular boys at Parkland. Always laughing. Always smiling. Even the teachers loved him. He was smart, respectful. All the girls adored him, but only one captured his heart.”

  It was a little difficult to resolve the Chase I knew, who was reserved and serious, with the Chase his mother described. And I didn’t exactly care for her last comment.

  “He could have dated anyone, but from freshman year through graduation, he only had eyes for Jennifer. Even though they went to different colleges, they were inseparable on vacations and breaks. Although I didn’t exactly approve, he would drive out to State College to spend weekends with her at Penn State. But what can I say? They were in love.”

  Funny how a peanut butter and jelly sandwich could turn against me so quickly.

  “Do you believe in soulmates, Rain?”

  My body grew leaden. I couldn’t open my mouth or lift my cup. The best I could do was a slight shrug of my shoulders.

  Mrs. Holgate’s smile from earlier had turned into more of a smirk. “Well, you would if you’d ever seen Chase and Jennifer together. I’ve never seen two people so in love. That doesn’t just go aw
ay, dear. They will find their way back to each other. I’ve no doubt about that.”

  She dipped into her pocket and produced a wallet-sized photo of Chase and Jennifer, which was from the same shoot as the framed photo hanging in the hallway. Jennifer was beautiful, with long dark hair and bright-green eyes. Chase stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, head tilted so that as Jennifer smiled at the camera, he smiled at her. And, yes, he looked like he loved her—very much.

  “They make a beautiful couple,” she said, slipping the photo back into her pocket. “And they’ll make beautiful children someday.” She leaned forward and touched my leaden hand across the table. Her fingers were thin and cold, and I wanted to shake them off, but I still couldn’t move. “You need to face facts, dear. It’s inevitable. They’re soulmates. The longer the two of you stay together, the harder it’s going to be for you when he realizes what a mistake he’s made.”

  Mistake? I wasn’t sure if she meant breaking up with Jennifer or being with me. Maybe both. I gave my head a shake, trying to clear away some of the hurt that had descended with her words.

  “Mistake?” This time I said it out loud. “Do you think it’s a mistake to break your engagement when you find your fiancée in bed with your best friend? Is that the mistake you’re talking about, or am I the mistake?”

  She reared back as if I’d slapped her, and I had a sinking feeling she had no idea why Chase and Jennifer had broken up. Too bad, bitch. I probably shouldn’t have been the one to tell her, but I had every right to defend myself.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about or where you heard that, but it’s an ugly thing to say. That poor girl is heartbroken. She would’ve never done anything like that. Not all women have loose morals.” She dropped her voice and leaned forward again. “I think you may have gotten your stories confused. Isn’t it true that you’re the one who was sleeping with someone else’s fiancé? You think I don’t know women like you? Women who just take what they want, not caring who suffers? A woman just like you, all flash and no substance, stole my husband and destroyed my family, practically ruined my boys’ childhoods. If you think I’m going to let you destroy my son, think again. He’s been hurt enough. You will never be good enough for him. And don’t say I didn’t warn you. When he finally sees you for what you are, he and Jennifer will find each other again, and you’ll still be a two-bit whore looking for your next baby daddy.”