Fit to Be Tied

by Debby Mayne

  “We’ve been looking at houses.” Sara grimaces in what she probably thinks is an apologetic look. “It’s not that we don’t like being here with you. It’s just that—” She cuts herself off as she turns to her husband.

  He nods and turns to face me. “We think it’s time to be on our own as a married couple.”

  “Oh, okay, I get it.” And I do. It’s just that I’ve never been completely on my own, and I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself in this big old condo. And that brings up another point. “How will we deal with your half of the condo ownership?”

  Now Sara speaks up. “We’ll still use this as our office, if you don’t mind, so we won’t have to deal with it at all. Justin has been saving his paycheck for a down payment, so I won’t need for you to buy me out, at least not now.”

  “I see.” I pull my lips between my teeth to keep my chin from quivering like it always does right before I cry.

  Sara bounds out of her chair and puts her arm around me. “It’s not like we’re doing anything today or tomorrow or anything. We’re just starting to look.”

  I blink as we make eye contact. “Remember how fast we found this place?”

  She nods and looks over at Justin. “She’s got a point. Maybe we should put off looking for a few weeks.”

  “But—” Justin cuts himself off, glances back and forth between Sara and me, and nods. “I reckon you’re right. We’re not in a big hurry, but we’ll need to do something before we have a young’un.”

  “A young’un?” I narrow my eyes and glance at Sara’s belly. “Is that what this is all about?”

  Sara shrugs and glances away. “We’ve been talking about it. I don’t want to wait until I’m old, like thirty, before having a family.”

  “Thirty’s not old.” I’m thinking I’ll be at least thirty before I can start thinking about having kids, and since there’s not even a man in my life, it might not even happen then.

  “I know, but—” She gives me a helpless look and then glances away. There’s something about the look in her eyes that sends off an alarm in my head. “It’ll be nice to have them when I’m still young enough to enjoy them.”

  Sometimes my sister doesn’t know when to stop. Justin and I exchange a glance that lets me know he’s probably thinking the same thing.

  “Tell you what. We’ll stay here for a while longer so no one has to worry about anything.” Justin smiles at me. “It’s just easier for now, but eventually, we really need to find our own place.”

  I grin right back at him. “At least now I know y’all are looking for a house, and I won’t be blindsided when it happens.”

  “So, have you seen the orders rolling in?” Sara holds up her phone. “I had to turn off notifications because it wouldn’t stop.”

  I nod. “Yeah, and I have to give you credit for something that has totally surprised me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Almost half of our orders are for orange bows.”

  Sara tilts her head and purses her lips, something she does when she’s thinking of a comeback. I brace myself for a tirade.

  “We need to get on the stick and find some orange ribbon,” she says, her voice cracking.

  “Well . . .” I give her a huge grin. “I’ve already taken care of it. We have one case coming from Notions, Inc., and six cases coming from Value Threads.” I lift my chin in pride.

  Her eyes widen. “Not Value Threads.”

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t you remember? They’re the ones whose boxes are all mislabeled, and they never send what we ask for. You even told me we shouldn’t ever order from them again because everything we got was messed up.”

  I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. Now that she mentions it, I do remember. “Maybe it’s not too late to cancel.”

  Justin stands and pushes his chair under the table. “I need to go help Slick with his new hot rod. See y’all later.” He gives Sara a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll bring supper home if y’all tell me what you want.”

  Sara and I both say, “Thai,” at the same time.

  He laughs. “I should’ve known. Do y’all want the usual?”

  “Yep.” Sara turns to me with a questioning look.

  I nod. “Red curry chicken.”

  After Justin leaves, Sara and I stand and stare at each other for about a minute before she finally speaks up. “I hope you know he cares about you.”

  “He’s turned out to be a decent guy.” I laugh as I remember my initial reaction to their elopement, since they only dated a couple of weeks. My first thoughts when they got married weren’t so good, but over time, I’ve come to accept some of his strange ways—his ability to sit in a room filled with people and not say a word for hours, the way he gets up and does stuff like fix my car without announcing it, and how he’ll go into the kitchen and come out a half hour later to announce that supper will be done in five minutes. It’s weird but in a good way.

  Sara sighs. “I remember when he used to talk to me in Family and Consumer Science. I loved the fact that he could cook and sew better than any girl in that class.”

  Most of the time, Sara and I took the same classes in high school, but a few of our electives were different. She chose Family and Consumer Science, what Mama and Daddy said was a fancy way of saying home ec, while I picked Speech and Drama.

  I’m about to say it’s time to get back to work when my phone rings. It’s Shay letting me know they just got a new maternity line in at La Chic Boutique.

  I laugh. “Why are you calling me about it?”

  A long silence falls between us before she finally speaks. “Um . . . this isn’t Sara, is it? I think I pressed the wrong name on my phone.”

  I glance up and look at my sister’s belly. “No, but she’s right here. Would you like to speak to her?”

  I sure wish I knew what’s going on between my daughters. They’ve been acting odd—almost like they don’t like each other—lately. Even though I can’t quite put my finger on whatever it is, I suspect Sara’s husband, Justin, has something to do with it.

  There was a time when my girls were totally inseparable, with Sally almost always in the lead. It wasn’t that Sara was a follower. I think it was more that she didn’t care where they went or what they did when they got there. So she deferred to her sister, who cared about everything, and I mean everything.

  My own mother used to check and double-check every stinkin’ thing she did. Sally obviously inherited Mama’s OCD behavior. When she was little, she’d turn off the light, take a few steps, and then look over her shoulder to make sure it was still off. Sara, on the other hand, never cared whether the light was on or off as long as she was comfortable and happy, which was most of the time when she was with Sally.

  But over the past couple of days, when I call either of them, I get a polite brush-off. Sara will listen to me for a few minutes, make a brief comment, and then say she has to go. Sally, on the other hand, asks if there’s an emergency and then says she can call me back later. That’s weird, because in the past, both of them would rattle on and on about their business or some new beauty product, and I was the one who’d have to go.

  So I decide it’s high time to pay them a surprise visit. Calling first is not an option because I suspect both of them would tell me it isn’t a good time.

  Armed with their favorite casserole and a basket of muffins, I walk up to their door, shift the handle of the basket to free my hand, and ring their doorbell. My breath catches in my throat as soon as the door opens.

  “Hi, Justin. Are the girls here?” I know I shouldn’t be so shocked that my daughter’s husband is standing in front of me, but it still feels too weird to describe.

  He takes the casserole from me as he opens the door wider. “Come on in, Mrs. Wright. She’s in our room, resting. I’ll go get her.”

  Having this boy sharing a room with Sara makes the situation feel even stranger, but I know there’s nothing wrong with it, since they’re
a married couple and all. “Okay.”

  “Let me put this in the kitchen first.” He leads the way, and I follow. “Does it need to be refrigerated?”

  I nod. “Yes, that’s what I would do.”

  I’m amazed by how comfortable he is in my daughters’ home, until I yank my mind back around to the fact that it’s his home too. I follow him into the kitchen and watch in amazement at how deft his moves are. After he shifts a few things around in the refrigerator and slides the casserole onto the shelf, he turns and takes the basket of muffins from me.

  “Everything smells good, Mrs. Wright. Thanks for bringing it.” He grins and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now I don’t have to cook tonight.”

  I feel my eyebrows shoot up. “You cook?”

  “Most of the time. Sally used to do most of it, but she’s having to take up some of the slack in the business now, so I figure it’s the least I can do.” He shrugs and smiles even bigger. “Besides, I like cooking.”

  Alarm bells ring in my head. “Why is Sally having to take up the slack? What’s going on, Justin?”

  He starts to step back, but I grab his arm. The expression on his face is a blend of fear and disbelief.

  “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  Justin closes his eyes for a couple of seconds and then opens them to look me directly in the eyes. “There’s something Sara needs to tell you.”

  “Then go get her. I’ll wait right here.”

  The confident expression he had now changes to one of consternation mixed with fear. After he leaves, I walk over to the table and start to sit, but I quickly realize I’m too anxious to do anything but pace. So that’s exactly what I do until I hear footsteps coming toward the kitchen. I stop and turn to face the door.

  I blink as I see both of my daughters standing there, hesitating to enter the kitchen. But that’s not what surprises me. Sally pretty much looks the same as always, only she has a scowl on her face, while Sara is pale and wearing ratty sweatpants and an oversize shirt that must be Justin’s, although he’s not that much bigger than her.

  “What is going on?” I ask, since neither of them appears ready to talk.

  Sally’s lips tighten as she turns her attention to Sara. “I told you this would happen.”

  Sara’s chin quivers—one of the traits they both share—indicating that she’s about to burst into tears.

  “Just tell me.”

  Even though Sally is clearly annoyed with her twin sister, she puts her arm around her and takes another step closer. “C’mon, Sara. I’m right here.”

  Sara nods, glances down at the floor momentarily, and then raises her gaze to meet mine. She licks her lips and slowly shakes her head as she sinks deeper into Sally’s embrace. “I can’t. You do it.”

  Justin comes up from behind and takes Sara’s hand. She appears to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. “I’ll tell her if you want me to.”

  “No.” The quick response from both girls at the same time lets me know that at least they’re still a team.

  Finally, Sara sucks in a breath, lets it out, and blurts, “I’m pregnant.”

  My first reaction is a gripping sensation in my chest and fear for my daughter. But when I take a long look at the three people standing in front of me, Sara sandwiched between Sally and Justin, both of them with arms around her, I realize this might actually be a good thing. Besides, I’ve always hoped to become a grandmother. It’s just that they’ve been married for such a short time.

  Now my chin starts to quiver as I open my arms wide and walk toward her. “Oh, Sara, I am so happy for you. For both of you.” I look at Sally, whose expression of disbelief almost makes me laugh. “For all of us. How long have you known?”

  “I found out when Shay called.”

  I hear the pain in her voice.

  Sara places her hand on Sally’s shoulder. “I already told you she heard about it from the lady at the doctor’s office.”

  “I know, but—”

  I can’t let her continue, or she might say something she’ll later regret. I’ve learned that the hard way, so I speak up. “Don’t forget that y’all have been reminding me since you were eighteen that you’re adults.” I smile at Justin, who appears extremely uncomfortable. Memories of George’s shell-shocked expression that lasted until almost a year after the girls were born make me chuckle. “And now that you’re married, there’s nothing bad about it that I can see.”

  “Well, that just beats all.” Sally breaks away from her sister, walks over to the cupboard, pulls out a glass, and takes it to the refrigerator, where she gets water from the door. “I never saw that coming.”

  “Saw what coming?” I ask. “The pregnancy or my reaction?”

  “Both.” Sally leans against the counter, takes a sip, and looks at me for a few seconds. “I thought y’all would wait at least a year or two. Do you realize how this is going to change everything?”

  I smile at my bossy daughter. “Yes, sweetie, I do.”

  “How is that good? Everything was perfect before.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, but . . .” I step closer to Sally and pick up her free hand. “Nothing is ever perfect.”

  “But—”

  “Y’all will have to make some adjustments, but over time you’ll be just fine.” I let go of Sally’s hand and walk over to my other daughter and her husband. After a brief hesitation, I take both of their hands and squeeze. “I am very happy that y’all are blessing me with a grandchild. What’s the due date?”

  “We don’t know yet.” Sally glances at Justin out of the corner of her eye. “I haven’t seen the doctor yet.”

  “She just took the pregnancy test a few days ago, after I got worried about her being so sick every morning when she woke up. I thought something was seriously wrong with her.”

  I smile. “I was sick as a dog when I was pregnant with the two of you.” Then something even more alarming pops into my head. “What if you have twins?”

  Justin speaks up again. “I’ve been looking on the Internet, and I’m pretty sure that’s not the case, since it’s not genetic.”

  “It’s not?” I shake my head. “I always thought it was since Sally and Sara’s daddy has a lot of identical twins in his family.”

  “According to the twin sites and some of the medical experts, genetics only plays a role in fraternal twins, not identical.”

  I blink as I see my son-in-law in a different light. Before now, in my mind, he was just a goofy kid who liked to work on cars. He’s sounding smarter than I ever would have imagined.

  He lets go of my hand and wraps both of his arms around Sara, who remains standing there, soldier-straight. “But if we have twins, I’ll just have double the love for my kids.”

  “Our kids.” Sara’s voice squeaks. “Mama, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just that, well, I thought you’d . . .” Her voice trails off as she looks at Sally for reinforcement.

  Sally takes the bait. “After your reaction to her elopement, she thought you’d disown her.”

  Sara pulls away from Justin. “I never said that. Mama would never—” She gives her husband a helpless look before glaring at her sister.

  “I thought that would get you to talk.” Sally emits a half chuckle and then resumes her straight-face demeanor. “Now we’re trying to figure out how to get all our work done.” She flinches. “And our living arrangements.”

  At this moment, I’m speechless. My girls have always been on the same page with practically everything in their lives, until now. One of the women in my Mothers of Twins group warned me of this, but I still never imagined how it would play out in our lives.

  Justin is the first one to break our momentary silence. “One of the problems we’re having now is that we all like this place.” He laughs as he rubs his chin in a fashion similar to my husband’s. “Who’d’ve ever thought I’d become a condo man?”

  Sally rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she settles her gaze on
mine. “So, what do you think about this, Mama? Have you ever seen anything like this?”

  “Honey, folks have babies all the time, many of them during their first year of marriage.”

  It took me forever to fall asleep last night after Sara and Justin finally went to New Orleans. Justin’s boss asked him to wait until he could hire another mechanic. I’ve been alone before, but this time it feels different—sort of like I’m being pushed out of her life for good.

  What’s crazy is that even though I barely got six hours of sleep, I’m wide-awake before the sun comes up. Sara and I have both always been good sleepers, according to Mama, but I think that’s about to change.

  I get up and head toward the kitchen, where I fix myself a cup of coffee. It’s so quiet my ears are ringing. Most mornings, Sara sleeps a little later than I do, so I’m used to being alone in the kitchen, but now I know she won’t be padding in, rubbing her sleepy eyes, while I’m drinking my coffee.

  I pull my phone out of my bathrobe pocket and see if there are any calls I missed. There are, but none of them are from Sara. The other people can wait.

  This is going to be a long day, so I sit at the table and try to figure out what I can do to make it go by easier. Maybe Mama will want to go to lunch. It’s still a tad too early to call her, but at least I have hope that there’s something I can do to break up the loneliness.

  Since it’s so early, instead of starting work in my pajamas like I normally do, I decide to take a shower and put on some jeans. Maybe that’ll perk me up.

  The whole process of showering, getting dressed, putting on a little makeup, and brushing my hair takes a total of twenty minutes. It’s still early, but I sit down at my workstation and pull up one of the orders.

  Normally, I prefer total quiet when working, but today I pull up my ’80s playlist and connect it to the little Bluetooth speaker. Mama used to listen to ’80s music when Sara and I were little girls, so I suppose that’s when I developed a taste for it. Both Sara and I know all the words to most of the songs on the list.

  After completing a couple of orders, I pick up my phone and call Mama. “Hey, Mama, whatcha doing for lunch?”