A Baby In The House

“Are you telling me you’re giving up your dream of a wedding with all the trimmings?” Again she didn’t wait for an answer. “Just because you’re—” to Krystal’s relief, she stopped herself before saying the word pregnant “—doesn’t mean you can’t have a wedding.”

Krystal had heard enough. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and tossed it aside. “I’m going outside for some fresh air.”

She should have known her mother would follow.

“You can have as big a wedding as you want, Krystal.” Linda stood beside her, pleading her case. “You just need to do it quickly and, if that’s what’s worrying you, I can help with the plans. Dena is proof that it doesn’t take long to set the plans in motion. Look at what she’s accomplished in just a few weeks.”

Krystal was tired, too tired to be having this discussion, but she had to say, “I don’t have any plans to set in motion.”

“Not right now, maybe, but you’re going to have to make some soon. Time is not on your side. You need to think about this.”

Think about getting married was what she meant. Her mother had jumped to the conclusion that because she was going to have a baby she was going to get married.

“Now if it’s money that has you worried, I’ve got a little put aside. You know I helped Carly with her wedding and I want to do the same for you.”

“You can keep your money. I don’t want to get married, Mother,” she stated firmly.

“What do you mean you don’t want to get married?”

“Just what I said. I don’t want to get married,” she repeated, enunciating each word slowly.

“Of course you want to get married. Do you know how many times you and Carly played brides when you were kids?”

“Well, I’m not a little girl anymore so can we please not talk about this?”

“I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t need that kind of help,” she said with exasperation.

Her mother shook her head in resignation. “I don’t know what you want.”

“Neither do I, Mom. Neither do I,” Krystal mumbled, but her mother had already gone back inside.

AS GARRET PULLED HIS CAR INTO the small parking area behind 14 Valentine Place he noticed two figures on the steps. Even though it was dark, the door cast enough light for him to see they were women. It wasn’t until he climbed out of his car and heard their voices that he realized one of them was Krystal.

From what was being said, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the other woman was her mother. Or that they were arguing. To his surprise, it was over the subject of weddings. When the screen door slammed shut, he knew one of them had gone inside.

As he rounded the corner of the house he saw that Krystal sat on the steps staring up at the sky.

“Are you keeping the crickets company?” he asked as he walked toward her.

She jumped to her feet with a tiny shriek. “Where did you come from?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you heard me pull up.” He jerked a thumb toward the parking lot.

“No, I didn’t hear anything but my mother’s screaming,” she answered candidly.

“I wouldn’t say she was screaming exactly.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Then you heard what she was saying?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Just the sound of voices—not what was actually being said.”

“I think you’re saying that to be polite.”

“And if I am?”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him and reached out to touch his hand. It was as if that night of the hospital ball had never happened and they were friends again.

But just as quickly as she reached out to touch him, she snatched her hand away. “I should go back inside. We had Dena’s shower tonight.”

The awkwardness was back and he hated its presence.

He guessed it was probably inevitable, considering everything that had happened. But he’d caught a glimpse of that spontaneous smile of hers and he wanted to see it again.

As she started for the door, he stopped her. “Krystal, wait.”

When she glanced at him she wore a look of vulnerability and for one brief moment he was reminded of the way she’d looked that night when she’d come running out of Roy Stanton’s apartment building.

“I’m hungry and I could use some company,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure there’s food left over from the shower if you want to come inside,” she told him. “Some of the guests are still here.”

“I brought my dinner,” he said, lifting the delicatessen bag. “And that’s not the kind of company I had in mind.”

“I don’t think Samantha’s home yet.”

“I didn’t come to see Samantha,” he told her, although it wasn’t exactly true. They had arranged to meet for a late supper, but she’d been detained at the hospital. Instead of eating alone, he’d decided to stop by 14 Valentine Place. He was glad he did.

He walked over to the picnic table on the patio, hooked a leg over the bench and sat down. “I have enough for two if you want some.”

“No, thanks.”

“You could keep me company. I know I’m not exactly your favorite person lately, but I won’t scream at you,” he promised. When she didn’t say anything he added, “You don’t really want to go back inside, do you?”