The Second Time Around. Marie Ferrarella

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      The office of Bedford Realty Company looked like a miniaturized Swiss chalet, inside and out. The scent of wood, finely crafted and highly polished, greeted the client the moment he or she entered the small, two-story building. Those who worked there were completely oblivious to the scent, having long since lost the ability to detect either the wood or the lemon polish applied nightly.

      When Laurel walked in that morning, only Jeannie Wallace, her best friend of ten years, was in the office, seated at her desk. Because of the Mercedes parked in the reserved spot, she knew that the manager, Ed Callaghan, was in the back, most likely looking over the number of sales that had been brought in this month. Beyond that, the office was empty.

      She’d debated keeping her news to herself for a while, thinking it might be better that way. But Jeannie only needed to take one look at her face to know something was up.

      “C’mon,” she urged in her no-nonsense voice, “spill it.”

      So she did.

      For a total of ten seconds, Jeannie said nothing. And then she found her voice. “You’re kidding.”

      Laurel laughed softly to herself. “Funny, that’s the same thing Jason said when I told him.”

      Jeannie’s wide mouth curved ever so slightly. She and her husband, Jonas, socialized with Laurel and Jason on a fairly regular basis. She knew all about Jason’s plans for the future. “Before or after he got up off the floor?”

      Laurel turned on her computer out of habit rather than any specific need to view anything. She kept her schedule in her head as well as on the hard drive. Other than putting in a call to the First Escrow Company of Bedford to find out what was holding up the process for the Newtons, one of her recent sales, she didn’t have anything on her agenda.

      “After.”

      Jeannie pursed her lips and shook her head. There was humor in her eyes. “Pregnant, huh?”

      Laurel was really having a hard time getting accustomed to the idea. She’d had the same problem the first time around, but then it had been because she was walking on air. That wasn’t exactly the case this time. “You don’t have to grin like that.”

      Jeannie leaned back in her chair, which creaked its protest. “I’m just thinking better you than me.” Her eyes swept over her friend’s petite frame. “I always thought you could stand to gain a few pounds. If I was the pregnant one, they’d have to start reinforcing the chairs around here.” The idea made her laugh. At close to six feet, Jeannie was what was politely referred to as heavyset. It never seemed to bother her. Jeannie had always seemed comfortable in her own skin. “I’m lucky Jonas likes his women big.” And then her grin widened. “Or maybe he’s the lucky one.” Pushing away from her own desk, Jeannie, still seated, brought her chair around closer to Laurel. Her eyes were a tad more serious as she asked, “So, how do you feel about it?”

      She kept asking herself that same question, Laurel thought. She shrugged in response. “Numb. Nauseated.”

      Jeannie waved her hand at the words. “Besides that. Those are givens.”

      Laurel paused for a moment, thinking. Examining. She raised her eyes to Jeannie’s. “Happy, I guess. Scared.” Despite the fact that they were alone in the front office, she lowered her voice in case Callaghan entered in. “I mean, when I had the others, my body was pretty resilient. Back then, my skin bounced back.” She looked down sadly at her flat stomach, knowing that was just a temporary state. “This time around I might end up looking like a stretched-out alligator bag by the time all this is over.”

      “Not you, Laurel. If I know you, you’ll be exercising right through the whole ordeal.” Realizing that the word had the wrong connotation, she corrected herself. “I mean, experience.”

      They’d been friends too long to start pretending now. “No, you got it right the first time. Ordeal’s the right word for all this.” Laurel sighed, shaking her head. Thinking of the months ahead. The distended stomach, the swelling of every part of her that made rings and shoes too tight. As for the clothes…“I’m going to have to get all new clothes,” she realized suddenly. “I gave away the last of my maternity clothes after Christopher was born and we decided that three kids were just about as far as we wanted to go.”

      Jeannie chuckled. She reached over and patted Laurel’s hand. “Well, looks like you’re going to have to go shopping, girl.” As always, she focused on the bright side. “Shopping’s fun. They’ve got a lot cuter clothes now for pregnant women than when we were at that stage. Originally,” she tactfully added. “Wendy and I went shopping just the other Saturday,” she went on, mentioning her five-months-pregnant daughter. “I can take you to this new boutique—”

      Laurel held up a hand. She wasn’t ready to start thinking about buying maternity clothes yet. According to the doctor’s scale, she was three pounds lighter than she was when she’d come in for her last checkup. “This isn’t another excuse for shopping.”

      “Sure it is. Everything’s an excuse for shopping.” Jeannie adored shopping. It had long since been decided that Jonas, an actuary with a major insurance company, was the breadwinner of the family. Her salary went for the frivolous, non-essentials. Once in a while, there was something in it for Jonas. “Shopping is therapeutic, and it helps the economy.” She drew herself up as if delivering a proclamation. “Shopping is almost a patriotic duty.”

      Laurel grinned as she shook her head. “You should have been a lawyer.”

      Jeannie tossed her head. Newly colored strawberry-blond tresses bounced over her ample shoulders. “I thought about it, but there was too much studying involved. Selling houses is a lot more fun.” She leaned in, her voice lowering. “Have you told anyone else yet?”

      Laurel shook her head again. She’d thought about it, several times. Had even reached for the phone more than once last night. But ultimately, her courage had flagged. “Not yet.”

      Jeannie looked at her, puzzled. “Mother, sister, sons?”

      The answer didn’t change. “No.”

      “Why?” Confusion gave way to suspicion. “Are you thinking of—?”

      “No,” Laurel cut her off, not wanting to even hear the option mentioned. By the end of yesterday afternoon, she’d firmly made up her mind to have this baby. Full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes. “I’m not. I just don’t have the oomph to go through this five separate times and face those surprised, skeptical and maybe disapproving looks five times over.”

      Jeannie’s solution was simple. “So, don’t.”

      That didn’t solve anything. “Right. And what, just tell them I’m gaining all this weight around my middle because my metabolism suddenly decided to die?”

      “No, tell them all at once. The whole family. Five with one blow. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. It’ll be quick. Just call a family meeting, or whatever it is those gatherings are called. That way, if someone in the group starts asking you what the hell you were thinking, hopefully someone else will jump in to your defense and tell them where to put their opinions.”

      The thought made Laurel laugh. Jeannie always had that effect on her. Nothing every fazed her. “Safety in numbers, huh?”

      “That’s about the size of it.”

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