Designed

by Alicia Renee Kline

  I patted her shoulder, happy to take the focus off of myself for a while. “It’ll be over before you know it, hon.”

  “Thank goodness. I’m not sure I can take it much longer.”

  Lauren really hadn’t complained much through the previous months of her pregnancy, likely in part due to my revelation about my past. Quite honestly, though, her condition hadn’t given her a reason to. When doctors referred to a woman that was made to bear children, someone like Lauren probably came to mind. Little to no morning sickness, perfect amount of weight gain, glowing complexion. Up until the last week or so, she’d had no issues. Now that the anticipated due date was here, the swollen ankles and back pain had begun. She was quickly heading towards the vicinity of being overdue, the doctor stating if things didn’t happen on their own within the next two weeks, she’d induce.

  “I think Matthew could,” I joked.

  She smiled. Long ago, she’d caught on that he was anxious about the impending birth. As far as I knew, he was still oblivious to the fact. His concern was endearing, however misplaced. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  I raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to explain.

  “I think even he realizes that I can’t be pregnant forever. He should have thought about the baby coming out part a long time ago. I can’t say I’m not apprehensive about it, either, but I just have to deal with it. It’s a bit too late now.”

  “True. I’ve heard that there’s so much going on during the whole process that you just get caught up in the moment anyway. If you think about it, it’s a few hours of pain for a lifetime of bringing another person into the world and watching them grow up. If it wasn’t worth it, no one would have more than one kid.”

  “I don’t know that I even want to think about the logistics involved. I’ll freak myself out.”

  I put the eyeliner back into my cosmetic bag. Lauren stared at me, a question on her lips. Her brow furrowed, then she shook her head slightly.

  “What?” I prompted. “Out with it.”

  “It hurt, didn’t it, Blake? I don’t mean emotionally. Physically it hurt, right?”

  I closed my eyes, knowing exactly what she was asking. “It hurt like hell,” I confirmed.

  “I’m so screwed.”

  “No, sweetie. You’ll do just fine. I didn’t have endorphins on my side. I didn’t have a happy ending looming on the horizon. I didn’t have a Matthew there to hold my hand through it. All those things will help. And drugs. Drugs are good also.”

  “Would you consider being in the room with me when it happens?”

  Her question caught me off guard. I froze in place, my hand on the vanity to steady myself.

  “Forget I asked,” she continued. “It was stupid of me to think about it.”

  “Do you want me there?” I choked.

  “I’ve just heard that most people want their moms to be there when they’re in labor for the first time. You know, even when they have their husband by their side, it’s still comforting to have mom there. And since my mom can’t be there -”

  “If you want me to be there, I will be.”

  “I’d ask Gracie instead, but I don’t think she’d be as good at it.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.”

  “Plus this way, I’ll get to see exactly what it is right away. Then I can wash up and immediately go over to your house and start decorating the baby’s room. I’ve got plans for both outcomes up my sleeve. My niece or nephew is not getting a gender neutral nursery. But I’m only commissioning one; I’m assuming over at Matthew’s house?”

  “Yeah. Maybe after everything calms down we’ll figure out what to do with my house. We really haven’t been there much since we got married. Just to make sure that it’s still standing.”

  “So you’re going to sell?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose it’s our only option. It’s stupid to have two house payments. It seems like a waste of money. I can’t rationalize owning two properties so close to one another. It’s not like I lived clear across town or at a lake cottage or something. And the thought of being a slum lord makes me sick to my stomach.”

  “Unless you could rent it to someone you trusted,” I contemplated, a bright idea forming in the back of my head.

  “And who would that be? You already own this house; I don’t think you’re wanting to downsize. Regina and Brian live across the street from it. Maybe Chris or Will, but I don’t see them jumping at the opportunity.”

  “Or Gracie,” I suggested.

  Lauren chuckled, immediately discounting the idea. “Gracie’s life is in Indy. Besides, she would have to find a job up here in order to do it.”

  “You did it.”

  “Yes, I came up to Fort Wayne because of my promotion. But Gracie’s not exactly next in line for a management gig. Not that she’s a slacker by any means, it’s just that typically bank tellers stay bank tellers until they quit and go somewhere else. And her wages aren’t nearly what mine are.”

  “Surely you wouldn’t price gouge her.”

  “No, but if I offered her my place for less than fair market value, she’d be insulted. She pretends that it’s not a big deal, but it is. She can barely afford the hole in the wall place she lives in now.”

  “Cost of living is less up here.”

  “I suppose so. Maybe she’d accept it if I offered it at the same rent she’s paying now. But then again, she’d have to find employment. I suppose I could ask George if he could pull some strings for me and get her transferred to a branch up here, but I’d have to talk to her about it first. I wouldn’t want to go behind her back on something like that.”

  “What if I hired her?”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ve been thinking about getting an assistant. Before I knew you’d be absolutely wrong for the job - no offense - I considered asking you. But what if I asked her to do it? It seems like a logical choice. I mean she helped with the wedding planning. She helped decorate your house.”

  “You don’t like how my house is decorated.”

  “I said it has potential. I didn’t say I outright hated it. I just think it could have used an expert’s touch.”

  “Like yours?”

  “None other. And I could take her under my wing and teach her what I know.”

  Lauren bit her lip, considering.

  “Do you think she would move then?”

  “I don’t know. It’s kind of out of left field.”

  “I know. It was just something that’s been bouncing around in my head lately. Just a thought. If you tell me it stinks, I’ll forget all about it.”

  “I’ll think about it. I’d love to have her here all the time, but I don’t know if she’d go for it. She doesn’t like feeling like a charity case.”

  “Who does?’

  “Point well taken. She’s just touchy about things like that. Maybe if we play it like she’s doing you a favor instead of the other way around?”

  “She’d be doing both of us a favor, Lauren.”

  “Yeah, I suppose she would be. As much as it’s not a burden on our checkbook, having that extra money would be nice. I’m about to have a new priority in life. It would be nice to spend some of that cash on the new little Snyder.”

  She smiled to herself, placing her hand on her ever expanding self. Her action sent a chill down my spine, though it wasn’t immediately one of envy. There was not one iota of doubt that I would be an important part of my niece or nephew’s life.

  “Is it moving?” I asked, my attention shifted. As much as I hated to refer to the baby as “it”, there really wasn’t a better way to address it. I was tired of calling it “baby” or something similar. And if Matthew or Lauren had settled on names for each gender, they weren’t sharing. So “it” it was.

  Lauren gave a noncommittal grunt. She reached for my hand and pressed it against her belly, positioning it so that I could feel something.

  “More difficult to move around i
n there lately,” she shrugged, “but I’d say that’s one of the feet.”

  Unlike Gracie, who wouldn’t touch her friend’s abdomen with a ten foot pole, I was beyond intrigued. I moved my fingers around, tracing the impression of what we suspected was an appendage.

  “You’re as bad as your brother,” she said finally with a laugh. “I swear he never takes his hands off me anymore.”

  I snorted. “I’m pretty sure that has nothing to do with the pregnancy.”

  “Speaking of hands and touching - ”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll behave tonight, I promise.” I reached around my friend, pulling open the drawer on the side of my vanity and stashing my makeup bag inside. “Mother,” I whispered under my breath, fully intending for her to hear.

  “I have a feeling that your mother wasn’t heavy handed in the advice department.”

  “Very true. Non-existent was more like it. Look where it got me.”

  “Somewhere not too bad.”

  “Depends on how you look at it.”

  “Let’s see. You own your own business. You’re a devoted sister and friend. You’re going out on a date in half an hour with the love of your life. Shall I go on?”

  “I have a feeling that you’re kissing my ass. But yes, I promise I’ll be there for you in the delivery room. In exchange for one little thing.”

  Her eyebrow raised. “That little thing being what?”

  “Tell me where Chris is taking me tonight.”

  “I have no clue.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Matthew’s his bestie, not me. And I’m not going to pump Chris for information, because I’d rather hear about your relationship from you. I just like you better.”

  “Chris isn’t bad,” I defended.

  “And there’s Blake with the sudden about face. For a decade you avoided him like the plague. Now he’s not bad.”

  “He forgave me, Lauren. He didn’t have to do that.”

  “In all actuality, there was nothing to forgive you for.”

  “He forgave me for my crime of omission. It felt like it was as bad of a trespass as outright lying.”

  “Was there ever any doubt?”

  I stared at myself in the mirror, considering. Things weren’t as cut and dried as she made them out to be. Perhaps Lauren hadn’t been given the full version of events, just the highlights. And even if Matthew had told her my tale verbatim, it wasn’t the same as being there, watching the torment in Chris’s eyes morph into rage as I pushed him away just when I needed him the most.

  “Yes,” I said simply.

  “Then count yourself lucky that you’ve gotten a second chance. Not everyone does. And don’t screw it up this time.”

  “Spoken by someone who was given her own second chance,” I mused.

  “The Snyders have a way of getting what they want most. And you want Chris. So go get him.”

  She rose as gracefully as she could from the stool and patted my shoulder.

  “You look terrific. Just have fun tonight. And I better get out of here before he shows up.”

  “Are you scared of him?” I joked.

  “No way. Deep down, he likes me. No, Matthew should be home in a little bit. He’s been staying late at work the last few days, trying to wrap up things in case he has to leave unexpectedly. And I’ve been sitting around, bored off my ass.”

  “Despising George for his orders for you to not work right up to your due date?”

  “Maybe.”

  “He wants you to relax, hon. Nothing personal. And it might have something to do with his fear of you having the baby in your office because you were just trying to get that last little thing done.”

  “I’m not that bad,” she protested, though the look in her eyes reflected the truth in my statement.

  “Repeat after me: The bank will not fall down without me. I can take my maternity leave and not worry one bit about work. Mortgages will still be exactly the same when I return. It’s not forever.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “And I’m just as serious about what I told you.”

  “Which part?” I joked.

  “All of it.”

  I showed her out of her former home, watching as her red sedan backed out of my driveway and she disappeared, heading back to my brother and her version of happily ever after. She was convinced that I was on the threshold of my own bliss. I could feel it in her words, see it in her eyes. Maybe that was just the pregnancy hormones speaking; I wasn’t yet so sure. But she had done a good job of occupying my time until my date for the night appeared.

  There were still a handful of minutes left before Chris’s arrival, however. Fraught with nervousness, I spent them pacing the hall. I refused to head back to the bathroom to check my reflection, knowing that my image in the mirror would be picture perfect. Instead, I twirled my hair absentmindedly, unable to keep still.

  Until the doorbell rang. Then I froze. He was here.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Mustering up all the courage I had, I strode down the hallway and to my front door. Mere seconds had elapsed since he’d rung the chimes, so unless I let him in on the secret, Chris would never know that I was anything less than confident. I pasted on what I hoped resembled a smile and unlocked the deadbolt, then the doorknob with shaking fingers.

  “Hi,” I said as casually as possible as I threw open the door.

  “Hi,” he returned.

  We stood in place, frozen in time as we stared at each other. My eyes traveled from his feet upward, taking in his appearance. He was dressed up for him - a pair of khakis that had been freshly pressed, topped off with a button down shirt that hung open over a plain blue tee. His dark hair brushed the top of his collar, wisps of it threatening to fall into his chocolate brown eyes. His arms were folded behind his back.

  He gave me the same appraisal. I’d gone over my outfit more than enough times to know exactly what he saw. I wore a flowing cotton tea-length sundress in my favorite shade of blue. Even though I didn’t need heels to add to my height, a pair of four inch strappy sandals graced my feet. They were sexy and I didn’t care. Besides, Chris was tall enough that he still had a couple inches on me, even though I hovered precariously towards the six foot mark in them. My hair flowed loose about my shoulders, molded into curls with the assistance of my ex-roommate.

  “These are for you,” he said finally, producing a bouquet of sunflowers.

  “Thanks.”

  I accepted the flowers and ushered him into my home. He stood awkwardly by the door as I excused myself to the kitchen to put them in a vase. I loved fresh blooms, sunflowers being my favorite. Typically I bought them for myself; it was nice to have someone else get them for me. Of course he knew that, and of course he’d remembered. I slid them into a clear glass cylinder and placed them on my seldom used kitchen table.

  He hadn’t moved by the time I returned. I’d at least expected him to walk around the living room, stopping to look at the pictures that were displayed on the fireplace mantle. Instead, he stood like he was in a museum, afraid to touch anything. I decided then not to offer him the grand tour. He’d likely remove his shoes and ask for a pair of white gloves. I wondered if he acted this weird at Matthew’s - his place was just as artfully decorated. Probably not.

  “Ready to go?” I asked, scooping up my purse and hanging it from my arm.

  It took him a second to awaken from his trance and respond. “Sure.”

  “So where are we going?” I asked as I locked up the place.

  When done, I spun around and he followed me down the sidewalk to his car. Though he didn’t make a move to place his arm around me or grab my hand, he did open my car door for me this time. This date was an official one, after all. Once I’d seated myself, he closed the passenger door quietly without saying a word. He waited to give an answer until he’d climbed in the car himself, started the engine and backed the vehicle down my driveway. With his eyes
firmly on the road and not on me, he spoke.

  “I got us reservations at that new place downtown.”

  “Really? I heard they were hard to get into, especially on a Friday night.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe the heavens were smiling down on us. I didn’t have a problem getting a table.”

  His tone suggested anything but.

  “Have you been there before?” I asked.

  “No. Don’t tell me you decorated the place.”

  “Nope. Not this time.”

  “Matthew took Lauren there a couple weeks ago. He said he highly recommended it.”

  “Yeah. He mentioned it to me. One of their date nights. And Lauren raved about the steak she had, but that’s not surprising.”

  Chris laughed, the sound filling the interior of the car. If I hadn’t been so familiar with him, I would have assumed it was a natural gesture. But the staccato beats were forced, fueled by the same tension that invaded my body.

  “This is stupid,” I muttered to myself.

  He snapped to attention. “What’s stupid?”

  “What we’re doing here.” Before his face fell too much, I rushed to explain. “Pretending like we barely know each other. Going through all of this first date procedure when in reality it’s like our thousandth date. So I’m exaggerating, but you know what I mean. Acting like I don’t know that you’re inwardly cringing when you think about how much our meal is going to cost because you won’t let me pay a dime tonight.”

  “Are you calling me cheap?”

  “No, I’m calling that place expensive. And I understand what you’re doing, really I do. But you don’t have to make a good first impression with me. You did that years ago.”

  “So you don’t want to go there?”

  “I say screw it. Let’s go somewhere else.”

  “Every other place in town is going to have a horrid waiting list.”

  “Not if we grab some cheeseburgers somewhere.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Chris relaxed considerably, the tension falling out of his body as he switched lanes en route to a new destination. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, committing to memory the features that I’d once known so well. So many things had changed, yet here in my old car, it was easy to pretend that we were back where we’d started.