If the Stick Turns Pink.... Carla Cassidy

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СКАЧАТЬ she could reach the house her younger sister, Linda, came out and hurried toward her.

      “Linda, what are you doing here?” Melanie asked.

      “Ben is working late so I decided to stop by for a little visit.” She looked over at the truck where Bailey was waiting. Raising one arm, she motioned for him to get out of the truck, then looked back at Melanie.

      “How are you feeling?” Melanie asked.

      Linda touched her still-flat stomach and winced. “Okay, but I’ve already started with the morning sickness. I didn’t have it this early with any of the other three pregnancies.”

      A touch of envy swept through Melanie. Linda had it all, a loving husband, a houseful of kids and a complexion without a single freckle. With her blond hair and peaches-and-cream skin tone, she’d taken after their mother, Marybeth.

      Melanie had received their father’s genetic characteristics. Walter Watters, better known in Foxrun as Red, had been red-haired and freckled in his youth. His hair was now snow-white and his freckles had faded with age, unlike Melanie’s.

      Bailey approached where the two stood. “Bailey Jenkins, you know that if you don’t come inside and say hello to Mom and Dad they’ll be upset,” Linda said.

      “I was just running in to drop this off.” Melanie held up the pill bottle they’d gotten from the drugstore.

      “Well, come on, then,” Linda replied. “And you, too, Bailey. The kids will want to see you.”

      Together the three of them entered the front door and into the living room, where a large group of people were gathered. “Surprise!” they all yelled collectively.

      Suddenly Melanie was being squeezed and hugged and kissed on the cheek by friends, neighbors and coworkers. Stunned, she realized the crepe paper and balloons weren’t for a bridge night party, but rather for her and Bailey.

      She glanced over to Bailey and saw the sheer panic in his widened eyes. They had hoped to do this quietly, without a fuss, knowing that it was all going to be temporary. She should have known there was no way to do anything quietly in Foxrun.

      “Darling girl.” Bailey’s mother Luella enveloped Melanie in a fierce hug. “We’ve all been wondering when the two of you would finally figure out that you were absolutely perfect for each other.”

      “Lu…give the girl a chance to breathe,” Bailey’s father Henry said.

      “Oh, hush up, Henry. I have a right to give my future daughter-in-law more than a little bitty hug.” She released Melanie and stepped back. “I can’t tell you how happy we all are. So, when’s the big date?”

      The entire crowd had fallen silent, and Melanie looked at Bailey for support. He walked over to her side. “We’re planning a very small ceremony next Saturday.”

      “Next Saturday!” Marybeth looked at her daughter in horror. “But that’s impossible. We can’t do a wedding right in a week.”

      “Mom, Bailey and I have agreed we don’t want anything elaborate. Just a simple ceremony without any frills.”

      “We’ll see,” Marybeth replied, and gave Melanie a hug. “In the meantime we’ve got cake and goodies and a party to enjoy.”

      Bailey was in a mild state of shock. Although rationally he knew he and Melanie had been fools to think they could somehow sneak off to a justice of the peace and be married, he’d desperately hoped they could have done just that.

      But already the potential mothers-in-law had their heads together, and he knew they were discussing color schemes and flowers and all the things to transform a simple ceremony into nothing short of a circus.

      He got himself a cup of lime-colored punch and looked over to where Mellie was standing in a circle of women. Her freckles appeared to be standing out from her skin, and he knew she was struggling with the same feelings he was.

      In their brief discussions of planning this whole thing, neither of them had taken into consideration that the situation would force them to lie to friends and family.

      The lies tasted bad in his mouth, but to tell everyone the truth would be far more disastrous. Foxrun had the moral compass of the fifties, and a teacher of their children involved in a plot to marry just to get pregnant would be ridden out of town on a rail.

      “Bailey, my boy.” Red Watters clapped him on the back and beamed a smile. “I can’t think of a better man to love and honor our Melanie.”

      “I do love her,” Bailey replied. This much was true. He’d always loved and adored Mellie, just not in a romantic kind of way.

      “Hell, son. We all knew you loved each other, we just wondered how long it would take for the two of you to realize it,” Red exclaimed.

      Red spoke with him for a few minutes longer, then drifted off to the table for a piece of cake. Bailey took the opportunity to sneak outside for a breath of fresh air.

      Night had fallen, bringing with it a cool breeze. He walked over to the porch swing in the shadows and jumped in surprise as he saw Mellie sitting there.

      “Ah, another escapee,” he said as he eased down next to her on the narrow swing.

      “They’re all having such a good time I didn’t think anyone would miss me,” she replied.

      “Yeah, I figured the same thing.”

      For a moment the two of them swung slowly in silence, the only sounds the laughter and talking of the people inside the house and the clicking and buzzing of insects outside the house.

      Bailey became aware of a soft floral scent in the air, and he leaned back in the seat and looked around, attempting to identify the source.

      It was too late in the year for the lilacs to be in bloom and too early for the roses or for honeysuckle. “What a mess,” he finally said.

      She nodded. “I can’t believe how guilty I feel.” She shifted positions and again the light floral scent teased his senses.

      He suddenly realized the pleasant fragrance was coming from her. He frowned thoughtfully. Had she always smelled so good? He couldn’t remember ever paying much attention before, and for some reason he found it vaguely disturbing.

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