"We already have the crib ordered and car seat bought, along with a pile of unisex clothing. We made it without a wedding shower. We'll be fine without a baby shower. If there's something critical that we've overlooked, I'm sure you or Mom can get it."
Amy's fingers drummed the steering wheel. She was getting aggravated. "I don't know anything about babies. Beyond buying cute outfits, I'm lost. People who are already parents give great gifts to first time moms at showers. Things you don't even know you need but you won't be able to live without once you have them. Me shopping for a baby is the blind leading the blind. Besides, you and Shepler were both living on your own when you got married, so it wasn't bad setting up your household together. Neither of you have made babies before."
Well, that last part was true. She and Bruce had no idea what they were really getting into. Sure, they had read a bunch of books and even gone to parenting classes, but every baby was like a snowflake. Different. The books could tell her how to change a diaper like a professional but not how to expertly perform the task on a hungry, howling baby at 3:00 a.m. while sleep deprived. She had faced down knife-wielding mental patients in the emergency room, but nothing scared her more than becoming a mom. Actually, facing down strung out addicts, knowing that a baby was at home depending on her to be its momma, was her number one fear. A topic she'd been mulling over more and more. But if she brought that up, too, Amy's head might explode. They would talk later about career choices. For now, she decided to take it easy on Amy and her always overactive mind by sticking to one topic.
"My mom can help. It's been a while since I was a baby, so she may be a bit rusty, but she at least has experience. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to spend time with her first grandchild while showing me the mommy ropes."
Amy actually took her eyes off the road for a few seconds to give Carla a withering look that would've made a soap opera actress jealous of her emoting abilities. "I don't know anything about your mom. You hardly ever talk about her."
"That would be because I haven't seen her in the entire time you and I have been friends."
It seemed as though her life was full of fears that compounded every day. Would she go into labor too early? Would the baby have problems? What was labor going to be like? How painful, exactly, would it be? And…how would she and her mother get along after not seeing each other in almost ten years?
"She's been in New Zealand since before I met you. Living in a remote artists' colony making clay coffee mugs and bowls for her only income hasn't left her with a lot of extra money. Now that her first grandchild is almost here, she's scrounged up enough for plane tickets. Mom used to be like you before she and Dad divorced. She went from organizing fundraisers and hosting dinner parties to living off the grid on the other side of the world with a bunch of hippies so she could find herself."
Carla shifted so that she was lying somewhat on her side. The baby kicked her in the ribs in retaliation for waking it up with the movement. She had been an adult and living on her own for years when her mother left on her spiritual journey. That didn't mean having her mother just walk out of her life didn't sting. Everybody in the family thought her mom was crazy, so by association, Carla had to be, too.
"That's the most you've ever told me about her," Amy said as the car rolled to a stop at an intersection. "I think it's very brave for her to reinvent herself after the divorce. I bet she's doing what she wants instead of what everybody else wants her to do now."
"True…and I do admire her for that. She used to be like me, very serious and…uptight. Now when I talk to her on the phone, it's almost like I'm talking to you. I have no idea who my own mother is now."
Amy laughed as she pulled into a parking space. Carla could see the Expectant Mothers Only sign through the windshield. She knew they were at the ob-gyn's office but had no idea why Amy was laughing. "What's so funny?"
"Your apprehension over seeing your mom has spooked your husband. He has no problems chasing after killers, but he asked me to go with him to the airport tomorrow to pick your mom up."
"He didn't tell me that!"
"It's okay. I don't mind. He said he thought she would be more comfortable having another woman to chat with on the ride home. Besides, I think your mom sounds great. I can't wait to meet her." She held out her arm so Carla could use it to pull herself up to a sitting position. "But right now, let's get you into the office and see how the baby is doing."
Carla had been laying on the couch for so long it felt like a major accomplishment when she was able to hoist herself to a standing position for one of the increasingly frequent bathroom breaks. Getting out of Amy's compact Mini was a near heroic feat. All of the leg muscles she had toned at the gym doing what was most likely millions of squats and lunges over the years had gone on maternity leave along with the rest of her once svelte body. With Amy's mother hen-style assistance, she finally made it into the waiting room to take her place next to all of the other baby-filled bellies in various stages of bulging.
In the chair beside her, Amy looked around as though she had landed on another planet. Bruce had been able to take her to all of the other appointments, but now he was busy with the new murder investigation, and she was banned from driving herself. So this was her friend's first visit to Prego Land. Carla tapped the back of Amy's hand, which had a death grip on the arm rest between them. "It's okay. If anybody goes into labor, this is the perfect place for it. Promise, you won't have to help."
Amy shook her head. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to do this," she whispered. "I'm afraid I'll be just like my mom. No child deserves to grow up like I did."
Both of her parents had made drinking their number one priority in life. Amy was their only child, who despite the alcohol-induced neglect, turned out to be one of the kindest, most caring people Carla had ever met. The silver lining in the horrible upbringing was that Amy had learned how to cook, to feed herself, at an early age. Now, the self-taught survival skill had turned into her dream job as she competed in contests, worked at a café, and now had a recipe blog. While she enjoyed a cocktail now and then, Amy was far from an alcoholic. The twang of fear in her voice startled Carla. "You know you're nothing like your mom. I know you've worked hard all of your life to be the kind of person that is as far opposite as possible from her. Having a baby wouldn't change you. It's not like some kind of biological switch that flips on and turns you into your mother. You would be an excellent mom."
"That's what Alex says, but I'm not so sure." She turned to face Carla. A sunny smile replaced the frown on her face. "This isn't about me, though. You're first up in the mommy batter box. I can't wait for you to hit it out of the park."
"Okay. Just don't make me run for the metaphorical ball. Nobody wants to see that."
Inside the exam room, the nurse's assistant went through the routine that had become familiar to Carla—blood pressure, baby's heartbeat, measuring the baby bump. It had always been difficult for Carla to be a patient. She self-diagnosed most illnesses, only resorting to visiting a doctor if she needed a prescription, and played a tiring game of devil's advocate for any diagnosis. However, in Dr. Herman's offices, she felt at ease with both the doctor and his staff. Another minor miracle in her life brought about by the unexpected left turn into marriage and motherhood.
Roz, one of the practice's midwives, entered the room soon after the assistant left. "How are you doing?" she asked as she examined Carla's new measurements on her tablet computer.
"Good. A few more Braxton Hicks contractions, but I guess that can be expected at this point." Carla stared at her bare feet topped with puffy ankles as her legs dangled from the end of the exam table. There she went again. Diagnosing herself in a medical area she had no experience in.
"Yes, those can be expected," Roz confirmed as she bent to look closer at the marshmallow-like ankles. "It means you're getting closer to having this baby. Let's do a quick ultrasound to see how big the little person is now. You haven't changed your mind a
bout not knowing the sex?"
Carla shook her head as she lay back onto the paper-covered table. "Nope. Still don't want to know. I love surprises. So I have a big one to look forward to as a reward for going through labor and delivery."
That evening, Carla doubted Amy. Several times during the long, slow drive home, her friend had pronounced that everything would be fine. But Carla didn't feel like she would be fine. Not any time soon. Maybe never. At the appointment, Dr. Herman said that the baby was big enough. It could come at any time and would be perfectly healthy. The tendrils of fear over becoming a momma tightened around her heart. She didn't know what kind of person her own mother had become while living in the wilds of New Zealand, but she was grateful that she was coming to help.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Hey, where are you going?" Alex called as Amy tumbled out of bed.
It was mid-morning, and after skipping breakfast, her body was running on fumes. She needed some caffeine so she could enjoy her husband for a little while longer. Luckily, their bedroom was fully equipped for emergency coffee situations.
"I'm just making a quick cup of coffee," she said as she popped a filter pod of dark French roast into the coffee maker's basket. Not many people had a beverage station in their bedroom, but she wasn't like most people. Alex and her friends told her that all the time. "Do you want one too?"
"Sure. But I would like you to come back to bed even more."
Amy measured the water and got the lifesaving appliance brewing as quickly as possible. Both of her husband's requests were easy to fulfill. She giggled as she climbed over the end of the bed and crawled like a cat over the comforter. Making coffee in the nude was a bit chilly, especially after getting toasty warm under the covers with Alex. "Warm me up. I'm cold now."
"My pleasure," he said as he rolled to face her. His hand was deliciously warm as he slid it over her thigh and up to her waist.
She wiggled closer until every possible bit of her body was touching him. The rich scent of coffee drifted around them as Alex used his hands and lips to make her melt into a puddle. He had arrived home from his extreme sports adventure with his friends after 11:00 p.m. Both of them had been tired, her from freaking out that Carla's baby was so close to arriving and him from driving home from Tennessee. So they fell asleep nestled against each other as though they were a teaspoon and a tablespoon in a silverware drawer. The peaceful night of sleep led to a frenzied morning. Absence obviously did make the heart grow fonder. Or at least it made married people grow friskier. Poor Pogo had disappeared hours earlier, running down the stairs yelping in distress over the X-rated private display of affection.
When the coffee maker finished its chore, Amy got out of bed again, this time grabbing her flannel robe off the nearby chair. She made two mugs of coffee with lots of sugar and a touch of vanilla-flavored powdered creamer. Not her favorite way to take her coffee, but there was no way she was running downstairs to get half-and-half out of the refrigerator. The shelf-stable, non-dairy creamer she kept in a jar next to the mugs would do at the moment. The whole point of having the beverage area in the bedroom was to save trips to the kitchen. She set both mugs on the nightstand beside Alex then climbed onto the edge of the bed beside him. He scooted toward the middle of the bed so she had more room to curl up her legs under the warm robe. She grabbed her pink mug, took a sip of the coffee, and said, "I need to get cleaned up soon. I promised Shepler I would go to the airport with him to pick up Carla's mom. She's flying in from New Zealand this afternoon."
Alex traced his finger down her arm. She shivered despite being warm and cozy. "He's a big boy. I think he can handle picking her up on his own. Stay here with me."
She shook her head. No matter how much she wanted to stay with her husband, she still wanted to help Shepler since he had saved her life, married her best friend, and helped produce Amy's future god child. Luckily she knew how to get her husband to ease up on his very convincing tactics to get her to stay. "I promised him I would go. This will be the first time either one of us has met her. Would you like it if you had to go to the airport to pick up my mom by yourself?"
"No, but I'd bet Carla's mom is very different than yours."
"Let's hope so."
He gently took the mug from her hands and set it back down. "Okay, I see your point. Go ahead and help the poor guy out. I'm sure he's stressed enough about becoming a daddy. He could use some help just in case the first encounter with his mother-in-law goes south. I doubt Carla's mom will be anything like yours, but you never know."
"Not to mention, he has a new murder case too," Amy added as she slipped off her robe and climbed back under the covers. "I can't change my family or what happened with them in the past, but I can enjoy the present. I still have a few minutes to spare."
She had just maneuvered on top of Alex when her phone began chortling from its place on her nightstand. Alex laughed and pulled her head down to his for a lip balm-melting kiss. "It's probably Shepler making sure you aren't abandoning him. Go save the poor guy."
Amy's knee caught in the sheet as she tried to gracefully and sexily roll off of Alex. Neither goal was accomplished. By the time she snatched the phone off its charger, she was tied up in the sheets as if she were a crazy person in a straitjacket. At least she tried.
"Hello."
"Hey Amy, it's Brooke."
Not whom she was expecting. While she chatted with the food truck owner, Alex got up and headed toward the bathroom. He held up two fingers, pointed them at her and then the bathroom. Then he waggled his fingers over his head in a convincing rendition of the Itsy Bitsy Spider song's pantomime. She nodded. A shower for two sounded like the perfect way to end their reunion morning.
But when she joined him under the rain showerhead, some of her good mood had evaporated. Brooke had picked up some more information from vendors at the market. It didn't seem to be related to Esther Mae's murder, though. Unless her ghost was causing trouble. There had been a rash of shoplifting thefts over the last week, with booths losing everything from packages of homemade peanut butter cups to expensive sterling silver necklaces. Brooke had stopped by the bakeshop to tell Sophie about the problems, but she had wanted to let Amy know too. Just in case the information didn't get passed on the next time she worked. There were more troubling things afoot at Clement Street Market.
* * *
Amy stared at the wall of glass. People were supposed to watch planes come and go from the vantage point inside the airport. She was watching tiny, icy snowflakes pelt the giant window. Carla's mom's plane was half an hour late, and Shepler was a nervous wreck. Oh, he was trying to look cool. He had on his stony, serious work face as he stared at his phone's screen. But out of the corner of her eye, Amy could see the phone shaking in his grasp.
"Are you excited or scared now that the baby is almost here?" she asked.
"Hell yes, to both things." He slipped the phone into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. His green eyes glowed as though they were made of jade possessed by some ancient spirit. "It's exciting to know that a tiny person will be calling me Daddy soon. Even as close as a year ago, I wasn't sure that would ever happen. On the other hand, babies are so little and fragile. They cry, and you have no idea why. I'm afraid I'll break it."
"I'm positive you'll be a great father. I've heard babies are pretty durable and forgiving. You'll do fine."
Shepler ran his hand over his dark-blond buzz cut hair. "Yeah…I've heard that. Also heard that the birth is pretty wicked too. I know fellow homicide detectives who said they almost lost it when their kids were born. Are you sure you want to be there?"
"You know I'll do anything for you guys. Carla has been my best friend for years. She asked me to help at the birth, so I'll be there even though I don't handle blood and gore well. Now, here I am impersonating a limo driver to give you a hand." She held up the notebook where she had drawn Carla's mom's name on it—Geri. "It's what BFFs do for each other."
"I appreciate it." He e
xhaled loudly. "There is no rational reason for me to be afraid of a benign, law-abiding woman…yet I am."
Amy leaned sideways and bumped shoulders with him. "That's because you're supposed to be afraid of mother-in-laws. Just ask Alex. You've got a fifty-fifty chance—she'll either love you or hate you. There is no middle ground with in-laws, I'm afraid."
"Yippee." He twirled his finger in the air. "A fifty-fifty chance she'll hate me, huh?"
"Nah, those odds are for most people. I'd say you have a better chance than that… I mean that she won't hate you."
"If you could be my wingman and break the ice, I would really appreciate it. I don't always make the best first impression, something about being overly intimidating." He flashed a smile that was friendly—in a creepy used car salesman way. Maybe he didn't get the chance to smile much in his line of work, possibly always playing the bad cop in good cop/bad cop interrogations. He was intimidating without having to say a word. "How's this for a smile?"
That's what wingmen did in a guy's world? Critique forced smiles? That was much easier than fixing hair emergencies or helping choose perfect shoes. Too bad it was too late to practice alternative facial expressions with him. She would just have to tell a white lie. "It looks warm and friendly. Keep it up because here come the passengers from her flight."
Fudge Brownies & Murder Page 6