It Happened at Christmas

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It Happened at Christmas Page 9

by Debbie Mason


  “So what did he say?”

  “Hang on.” Vivi tapped out her response, then said, “He wants you to lay low. No social media, no pictures in the paper, and if you can swing it, a name change. He also thinks you need to shut down your blog now that your identity is out there.”

  “I can’t, Vivi. I can’t shut down my blog. You know that. It’s my only source of income. I mean, I work at the bakery, but it’s not enough, not with the baby coming. This is all Ethan’s fault. If they hadn’t outed me…”

  Vivi gave Skye’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Okay. Give me some time to think about the blog. The media coverage is fairly localized. But your social media accounts link you to New York so—”

  Skye picked up her cell phone from the couch. “I’m giving it another couple of hours, and then I’m shutting them all down. I just want to make sure my friends”—she made air quotes—“have a chance to read my post.”

  Vivi cast her a nervous glance. “What did you say?”

  “Well, these are people who borrowed money from me over the years and then had the nerve to post smartass remarks or lecture me on my spending habits after I was outed. So I messaged every one of them. I told them what they owed me and that I’d accept a check or they could make payment arrangements.”

  “Did anyone respond?” Vivi asked, head bowed as she pressed the keys on her iPhone. Skye figured she was logging onto Facebook to check up on her.

  “Only four people out of two hundred. They can’t pay me back, but they apologized, so I took them off the list. And last night I posted every single one of the hundred and ninety-six names and what they owed me on my Facebook page and posted the link on Twitter.”

  “You gave Lydia Baker money for a boob job?” Vivi said, looking up from her phone.

  “I wouldn’t have said what I gave her the money for, but her comments were some of the nastiest. Hey… Where did my page go?” she said when it disappeared. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Vivi’s cell pinged, and her lips started to curve. “But I think I know who did.” She read the text. “He says you’re a sweet woman, but you need a keeper. And he’s got enough on his plate without you making more enemies. He’s wiping your social media history now.” Her eyebrows raised, and she nodded. “He suggested putting it out that I’m Envirochick. He said you could make some noise about suing Ethan’s campaign for releasing private information about your finances and insinuating your blog is just a scam to make money. It should be enough to shut them down. If you’re okay with it, he’ll start putting things into place so that when they dig deeper, I’ll show up. We can put out a blog post on Monday introducing me as Envirochick. What do you think?”

  “If you’re good with it, sure. I don’t care as long as I can keep up the blog. And I don’t think Tom and my other advertisers will, either. As long as the content doesn’t change.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell him to go ahead.” Vivi sent the text and seconds later, Superman responded. Whatever he said made her best friend blush.

  She motioned to Vivi. “Let me see.”

  “No”—she shoved her phone in her jean shorts pocket—“we’ve gotta get going.”

  “You so have a crush on him,” Skye said as she walked from the living room. “I just have to get changed.” Five minutes later, she found Vivi sitting at the kitchen table on her computer. Her best friend was a workaholic.

  “What’s this?” Vivi asked when Skye waved a purple strapless cover-up under her nose.

  “I made them for the three of us. Maddie’s is pink.” Hers was yellow with a yellow-and-white-polka-dot bow beneath her boobs.

  “Oh no, I am not wearing this. I don’t want to catch what you two have. And it seems to be contagious. I still can’t believe my two best friends are pregnant.”

  “And that Maddie’s a stepmommy and wears pink.” Skye laughed. “We better get going. I can’t wait to see her face when she walks in. And it’ll be so much fun to see all the baby stuff.” Skye was looking forward to the shower. She couldn’t be happier for Maddie. But for all of a second, she felt a little sorry for herself and her baby. There’d be no shower for them, no one to wake up in the middle of the night when she got scared or went into labor, or when the baby said its first word or took its first step.

  She mentally gave herself a slap. She wasn’t alone. She had Maddie and Vivi. And women all over the world did this all the time. “Don’t forget your bathing suit. We’re playing Toss the Baby.” At Vivi’s raised brows, Skye explained, “Not a real baby, water balloons. And you have to get in the pool for the rubber ducky race.”

  “Shower games, are you serious? And why do I have to bring a bathing suit and you don’t?”

  Skye lifted her cover-up to reveal her yellow polka-dot bikini.

  “Wow. You look amazing. No one would guess you’re eighteen weeks pregnant,” Vivi said, then bit her lip as she eyed Skye’s flat stomach. “I don’t think that’s right. Maybe something’s wrong. You’re making a doctor’s appointment before I leave. No excuses,” she added when Skye started to argue. “You have enough money, and there’s a thing called doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “I’m healthy and so is baby Willow. Stop being such a worrywart.” At Vivi’s don’t-mess-with-me face, which was way scarier than Maddie’s, Skye relented. “Okay. Fine. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll make an appointment. Now go put your bathing suit and cover-up on.” Skye wouldn’t admit it to Vivi, but every once in a while, she worried something might be wrong with the baby, too.

  * * *

  Skye nudged Vivi, who stood in front of the stone fireplace in Paul McBride’s living room, staring at the family photos on the mantel. “What are you… Oh.” She’d forgotten about Hot Bod. Gage’s older brother, Chance, stood in all his dark blond, sun-bronzed glory with his brothers in a family photo. But as she looked more closely at Vivi, Skye realized it was the wedding photo beside it that held her attention: Chance McBride’s wedding photo.

  “She died two years after the wedding,” Skye said quietly, looking at the beautiful, petite blonde in the photo. She’d heard all about the tragedy when Chance was a no-show at Gage and Maddie’s wedding.

  He hadn’t been home since his wife died. Kate McBride had been Chance’s childhood sweetheart. She’d gone off the road in a snowstorm, killing both her and her unborn child.

  “I know.” Of course she did. Maddie and Skye hadn’t told her, but as soon as Vivi had discovered Hot Bod’s true identity, she would’ve found out everything she needed to know on her own.

  Skye needed to distract her. She nudged Vivi and whispered, “Can you take some of the presents from me? I probably shouldn’t be carrying this much in my condition.”

  Vivi snorted. “I’m fine,” she said and took two boxes decorated with baby’s footprints from Skye.

  “I know you are.” But she didn’t look fine, so Skye said, “Did I tell you how hot you look in that cover-up? If I was gay, I’d totally want to do you.”

  “You’re nuts.” Vivi laughed. “And I hope my niece is just as nutty as her mommy,” she said, patting Skye’s stomach.

  Skye shot a panicked look around the room. “Vivi, shush.”

  Vivi winced. “Sorry. I won’t forget again. Promise.”

  Behind them, Grace opened the front door and welcomed more guests inside. Skye glanced over her shoulder, then shot a frantic look at Vivi. “Ethan’s mother brought Claudia. What am I going to do? I didn’t think she’d be here.”

  “I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do,” Vivi said, and took Skye by the hand, walking toward the two women. They looked like a pair of socialites heading to their country club in matching white Capri pants and lightweight indigo blue sweater sets. Their hair was perfectly coiffed, their makeup impeccable. As Skye and Vivi approached, Claudia shared a raised eyebrow with Liz.

  “This is a bad idea,” Skye whispered, dragging her feet.

  Ignoring her, Vivi tightened h
er grip on Skye’s hand. “Mrs. O’Connor, nice to see you again. I don’t think we’ve met,” Vivi said to Claudia, extending her hand first to Ethan’s mother.

  “Ms. Westfield,” Liz O’Connor said with a nod before smiling warmly at the dark-haired beauty by her side. “This is Claudia Stevens. My son’s campaign manager.”

  “Ms. Westfield,” Claudia said with a condescending smile. Neither of the women acknowledged Skye.

  “You both know my best friend Skye, of course.”

  “Actually, I know her as Kendall. And I need a word with you,” Claudia said to Skye in a snippy tone of voice.

  “I’ll take these.” Grace smiled nervously while gathering up the presents. “Are you going to be all right?” she said for Skye’s ears alone as she brushed by her.

  “I think so,” Skye said under her breath, “but I doubt Claudia will be once Vivi gets through with her. Think Maddie on steroids.”

  “Oh.” Grace’s eyes widened, and she hurried off.

  “Actually, I need a word with you, Ms. Stevens. Or, I should say, my lawyer does.” Vivi checked her watch. “You’ll be receiving a request to set up a conference call any minute now.”

  “Your lawyer? In regards to what?” Claudia asked, her earlier bravado fading.

  “The lawsuit I plan to file against your candidate. Maybe it would clarify matters if I reintroduce myself. I’m Envirochick.”

  “No, you’re not. Kendall is.”

  “Uh, no, you got that wrong. Hence the lawsuit for disparaging my best friend’s character and releasing information about her personal finances. You want to start slinging dirt, you sling it at me. And I’m not as nice as Skye. You’re going to get real dirty playing with me. So dirty that you won’t be able to wash the muck off your candidate before election day.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Tell whoever you hired to dig deeper. He might be good, but I’m better. And now that I think about it, I should have my lawyer check into privacy laws. You must have broken a few of those.”

  Nell McBride, who looked like a gingerbread granny if you discounted the flaming red streak in her softly curled white hair, was accompanied by the diminutive Evelyn Tate and Stella Wright, who had a white streak in her long, dyed-black hair, as they pushed through the door. “Maddie’s coming up the driveway. Hurry. Go hide.”

  * * *

  “This was the best surprise ever. I love you guys.” Maddie stood up when she’d finished opening the last of her presents and threw her arms around Vivi and Skye. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret from me.” She sniffed, looking at everyone congregated in Paul McBride’s backyard. A group of women sat in lawn chairs under the shade of the towering pines, the mountains a purple shadow in the distance, while Liz O’Connor led the others on a tour of Paul’s extensive gardens.

  “What is it with pregnant women? You’re all so weepy.”

  Madison drew back and wiped at her eyes. “Who else do you know who’s pregnant?”

  Skye furtively elbowed Vivi, and her best friend covered her “oomph” with a cough. “Generalization,” Vivi said, once she recovered. “Isn’t it time for more games or something?”

  “No, let’s go check out the presents,” Skye said, gesturing to the table overflowing with baby gifts.

  “Auntie Skye, Auntie Skye!” Lily waved to her from where she stood in the shallow end of the pool. “Come and get me,” she called, and started toward the deep end.

  Skye grinned and shimmied out of her cover-up. “I’m coming.”

  “Oh, my God, look at you,” Maddie said to Skye, then patted her own rounded stomach. “Enjoy it while it lasts. One day you’ll get pregnant and look like you swallowed a beach ball like me.”

  “I doubt it,” Vivi muttered, “more like a golf ball.”

  Skye gave Vivi a zip-it look and headed toward the pool. As soon as she got close, Annie did a cannonball, soaking both Lily and Skye. “Get her, Auntie Skye. Get her.” Lily sputtered, holding on to the side and wiping her eyes.

  “I’ll get her, Lily. Don’t you worry.” Skye ran to the edge of the pool. She was in midair, arms wrapped around her knees, when she heard Vivi yell, “Skylar Davis, you’re pregnant. You can’t—”

  The cool water closed over Skye’s head, and she sunk to the bottom of the pool. She thought about staying there, but didn’t think holding her breath for that long would be good for the baby. Blurred faces peered over the edge, staring down at her as she swam her way to the top. She changed direction and headed for the stairs. As soon as she stood up, Lily threw her arms around her. “Yay. We’re going to have another baby.”

  For one heartwarming second, Skye allowed herself to forget about the consequences of being outed and reveled in Lily’s excitement.

  It didn’t last long.

  “You’re pregnant, and you didn’t tell me? You told Vivi, and you didn’t tell me?” Madison gritted out as she hauled Skye from the pool.

  “I can explain,” Skye said, nervously glancing at the women who moved within earshot.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do. How many months are you?”

  Vivi grimaced, sending Skye an apologetic glance. “Maddie, why don’t we—”

  “No. I want to know how long she kept this a secret from me.”

  “She’s almost eighteen weeks. Now can we—”

  Skye knew Vivi was trying to help, but she was making things worse. Maddie’s brow furrowed, then her eyes widened. “You got pregnant in April. Who… Ethan.” She covered her mouth with an oh-shit look in her eyes. Then quickly grabbed Skye by the arm. “Okay, ladies. I—”

  Claudia pushed to the front of the crowd. “That night Ethan and I ran into you at Walgreens you were buying a pregnancy test for yourself, not Grace.”

  “Grace, you’re pregnant, too?” Nell said. “Geez Louise, there must be something in the water. Evelyn, we’re drinking bottled from now on.”

  “I’m not pregnant,” Grace said, looking at Skye, who mouthed an apology.

  “My son? You’re pregnant with my son’s baby?” Her eyes wide, face pale, Liz O’Connor pressed her fingers to her mouth.

  This couldn’t be happening. Skye grabbed Vivi’s hand. “No, no, Vivi and me, we’re partners. I had artificial insemination. We’re so happy, aren’t we, sweetie?”

  Vivi sighed and bowed her head. Maddie covered her face with her hands.

  Apparently Liz didn’t hear Skye because she said, “She’s having my son’s child. My grandbaby. Oh, my God, I’m going to be a grandmother.”

  “Liz, are you all right? Liz, what’s wrong? Someone help me,” Claudia cried, as Ethan’s mother collapsed in her arms.

  Chapter Nine

  I’m sure it’s nothing, Eth,” Gage said as they ran up the walkway of his father’s gray stone bungalow. They were playing a round of golf and got the call about Liz on the seventh hole. Thankfully, Dr. McBride’s girlfriend Karen, a nurse, had been invited to the shower. Ethan thought it was a good sign that she hadn’t called an ambulance. Then again, she didn’t like his mother very much.

  “I shouldn’t have let her campaign with me.”

  “Stop beating yourself up. Liz loves going out on the stump,” Gage said, as they reached the front steps.

  “Where is she?” Paul asked Karen, who met them at the door, his voice gruff and edgy.

  Her brow furrowed. “On the couch in the living room. She’s fine, Paul,” she called after them.

  The thirtysomething redhead wouldn’t be happy about Paul rushing to Liz’s side. She would’ve been less happy if she’d witnessed Paul’s reaction when they got the call. He’d been as worried about Liz as Ethan. Under different circumstances, his obvious concern for Liz would have had Ethan and Gage high-fiving each other.

  At least forty women were crowded into the great room with its high-beamed wooden ceiling. They parted to let Paul, Ethan, Gage, and Richard by. Lily, in a flowered bathing suit, ran over to grab her father’s hand. “Daddy,
Auntie Skye’s having a baby, and Nana Liz fainted.”

  Several groans met Lily’s announcement. Ethan suspected one might have come from him. He felt like he’d been sucker-punched. Which was stupid. He knew she wasn’t the woman for him. But the thought that Skye was pregnant with another man’s baby… No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from searching the room for her. “Holy hell,” he said under his breath when he caught sight of her standing in the corner in a yellow polka-dot bikini.

  “Geezus,” Gage said, and Ethan turned to give him an are-you-kidding me look. “What? I’m married, not dead.”

  Ethan ignored him and blocked the Sports Illustrated image of Skye from his mind as he reached the couch. He stood beside Paul, who crouched at Liz’s side and took her wrist between his fingers. She had a white cloth folded on her forehead and looked a little wan, but nowhere near as bad as Ethan had feared. Claudia, who sat on the arm of the couch, looked worse than his mother. “Mom, what happened?”

  Both women stared at him with betrayed expressions on their faces. What the hell? “I need to talk to my son,” his mother said, attempting to swing her legs off the couch.

  Ethan reached for her at the same time as Paul. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so. Your pulse is erratic,” Paul said, letting go of her wrist to open the black doctor’s bag he’d dropped at his feet.

  “Your girlfriend said I’m fine.”

  “She’s wrong. You’re not fine. You have mitral valve prolapse.” He held up a hand. “No, I’m tired of you dismissing it and carrying on like you’re in your thirties. You need to start acting your age and—”

  Aw hell, Ethan thought as he caught Gage’s eye. His best friend gave him a here-we-go look.

 

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