Not Quite Forever
Page 47

They were opposites on many things, but they were sisters. Having grown up only a bathroom away, they shared many confidences that would go to the grave.
“Well, you do. Sit down, let me pour you some coffee.”
The second after her sister shoved a cup of coffee under her nose, the two of them stared without words.
She sipped her coffee, waited for one of them to speak.
They didn’t.
Dakota sat taller, circled her cup with her hands. “There’s a guy.”
“I knew it!” Carol Ann acted as if she’d won the big stuffed animal at the county fair.
Her mom watched her with a half smile.
“I thought we were doing great.”
“So what happened?”
Dakota looked down at the black coffee and watched the ripples of movement from her hands shaking the cup. “I can’t tell you. One day he just stopped calling.”
“He didn’t tell you why?” Carol Ann asked.
“In the beginning, no. Nothing. Only after I confronted him did he offer his crappy we’re moving too fast excuse.”
“That’s rude. He should have flat-out told you his concerns instead of leaving you guessing. You’re better off without a rude and inconsiderate man in your life.”
Yeah, maybe.
Carol Ann moved closer and offered another hug. “We’ll take your mind off Mr. Rude and have you smiling in no time.”
“Thanks. I just need a little time to get my mind off of him.”
“This is just the place, isn’t it, Mama?”
Elaine kept a watchful eye on her as she moved around the kitchen. “What’s family for if not to come home and sulk with?”
“I’m around during the holidays.”
“Not last year,” her mom reminded her.
“I was in Europe.”
Elaine opened the massive refrigerator and pulled out eggs, orange juice, and bread. “You could have flown home.”
“The airport was snowed in. No one went anywhere.” Spending Christmas in a hotel wasn’t ideal, but she and her fellow stranded travelers had made the most of it.
“Do you still like them scrambled?” Her mom was heating a pan and cracking eggs into a bowl.
“You don’t have to do that, Mom.”
“You’re right, I don’t. And after a few days you’re no longer a guest, so enjoy my attention while you have it.” Elaine winked over her shoulder.
“Scrambled is fine.”
Carol Ann leaned over the counter. “So how long are you staying?”
That was the zillion-dollar question. “I don’t really know.”
“You don’t have a return plane ticket?”
Dakota caught her mother glancing over her shoulder.
“I didn’t buy one.”
Her sister patted her hand. “Oh, darlin’, you must have really loved this one.”
It took three days for Dakota to leave the house. The driving need was the headache that had started in the middle of the night and didn’t let go by noon the next day. The last thing she wanted was to have her blood pressure shoot up and end up back in the hospital. Explaining that to her parents wasn’t how she wanted to tell them she was pregnant.
Her mother’s weekly gossip session disguised as a bridge party took her mom away from the house.
“Dad?” She walked onto the back porch and caught him with his eyes closed.
“Hey, sugarplum.” He patted the seat beside him.
She moved to his side and tucked into him. “I was just coming to tell you I’m going into town for a little while.”
He patted her shoulder, didn’t comment. “Are you getting your head back on?”
She grinned. “Little bit at a time.”
“That’s good. Seems your visit is without a lot of yelling this time ’round. Not that I want my daughter’s heart broken, but you and your mom seem to be getting along.”
“That’s because she hasn’t asked about my work.”
He snorted. “Let’s not remind her. I like the quiet.”
“You haven’t asked either.” And her father used to be an echo of her mother’s disdain in her career choice.
“That’s because the doctor told me I needed to decrease my stress level. Bad for my heart.”
Dakota pulled back. “What’s wrong with your heart?”
“Nothing that shouldn’t be for a man my age. Had to cut back on some of the pie, and fried cooking.”
“Are you seeing a cardiologist?”
He narrowed his eyes. “What would you know about cardiologists?”
“I did go to college.”
“I play poker with Dr. Olsen the last day of the month.”
“Dr. Olsen is a general. Not a cardiologist. If you have any pain, high blood pressure, you need to see a specialist.” Olsen had been the family doctor since Dakota was ten. The man had to be seventy by now.
“Don’t worry your pretty head about my heart. Mine isn’t all broken like yours. I’m fine.”
Dakota massaged her forehead. “My heart isn’t broken . . . fractured maybe, a little.”
“Lot you know,” her father huffed. “Broken and fractured are the same thing. Learned that when you broke your leg in the third grade.”
“I cried when I couldn’t have a black cast.”
Dennis started laughing and Dakota felt a smile on her lips. “Your mama was livid. Made them wrap you in baby pink.”