The door flew open and there she stood wearing a pale blue nightgown

“Were you asleep?” Garret asked.

“Of course! It’s two o’clock in the morning.” Panic replaced the sleepy look in Krystal’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to come in.”

“If you came here to check on me, it’s not necessary. I’m not sick.”

“I know. You’re pregnant.” That stunned her into silence. He waited for her to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth. “It’s true, isn’t it?” he said.

She moistened her lips, then said, “Yes. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t practically begged you to take me to bed, we wouldn’t be in this—”

Garret cut her off. “Wait a minute! Are you saying I’m the father?”

Dear Reader,

As a child I spent many hours with a length of clothesline in my hand. My friend Susie would be on the other end and our friend Joanie would be in the middle, jumping as we twirled the rope and sang one of the many ditties created especially for skipping rope. Our favorite was the one that ended with “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Joanie pushing a baby carriage.”

It’s a refrain that echoed often in my head while I wrote this book because my heroine, Krystal—like a lot of women—believes she’s going to fall in love, get married and have a baby—in that order. Then she does a favor for a friend and discovers that her plan has suddenly been thrown out the window. Now she finds herself wondering if it’s possible to have a baby first, then get married and then fall in love.

As you read this story you’ll find the answer. You’ll also meet the women who live at 14 Valentine Place, a wonderful old Victorian house where love has a way of sneaking up on its tenants when they least expect it. I hope you’ll enjoy your visit with them.

If you’d like to write to me, I love to hear from readers. Send your letters to Pamela Bauer, c/o MFW, P.O. Box 24107, Minneapolis, MN 55424, or you can visit me via the Internet at www.pamelabauer.com.

Warmly,

Pamela Bauer

A Baby in the House
Pamela Bauer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For the baby in our house,

Aedan Paul.

What a joy you are!

And a special thank-you to

Michelle Rudolph for sharing her

professional insights with me.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

KRYSTAL GRAHAM SPOTTED Garret Donovan across the ballroom, briefly locked her eyes with his, then glanced away. She waited only a moment before allowing her gaze to slowly wander back to his, giving him a smile that said, You know what I’m thinking and it’s a bit naughty.

The flirtatious move hinted at an intimacy that didn’t exist and was part of a plan to make Samantha Penrose jealous. It worked. Samantha couldn’t keep her eyes—or her hands—off Garret.

As Krystal stared at Garret, she could see why. He was cute. Not exactly her type, but still cute. And sexy. That realization rocked her for a moment. She hadn’t thought of him in that way before. He’d always been her landlady’s son. A friend. But tonight he looked good enough to send a little jolt of pleasure all the way down to her toes.

She shook her head. There was no point in thinking of Garret in that way, because she was making a new start with Roy.

She glanced at her watch, wishing she were with him now. As if Garret could read her mind, he came toward her and suggested they leave.

She slipped her arm through his as they said goodbye to his colleagues. Seeing Samantha across the room watching their movements, she whispered to Garret, “If you kiss me now you can make your old girlfriend very jealous.”

He looked her in the eye and said, “As tempting as that offer is, when I kiss a woman it’s not for someone else’s benefit. It’s because she wants me. Do you want me to kiss you, Krystal?”

She did, only she wasn’t about to admit that to him. It was a startling discovery and one that kept her quiet as they walked through the hotel corridors to the front entrance. When they were waiting for the parking lot attendant to bring his car around, she knew she needed to say something about the sexual tension that seemed to have come out of nowhere between them.

“Garret, the reason I came with you tonight…” she began.

“I know why you’re with me, Krystal. My mother asked you to be my date, but contrary to what you—or my mother—may think, I don’t need help when it comes to my relationship with Samantha Penrose.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words. When his mother had suggested they go to the hospital ball together, Garret had objected to the idea, but it had been a good-natured objection. Now he sounded angry.

“Look, it’s still early. Why don’t you go back inside and I’ll take a cab home,” she suggested.

“You aren’t taking a cab anywhere. I brought you here and I will take you home.”

His tone made her sound like an obligation. “I wasn’t planning to go home. I thought I’d go to Roy’s place.”

“Old unfaithful, huh?” He slowly shook his head.

As her friend, he knew about her on-again, off-again relationship with Roy Stanton. Until tonight, however, he’d kept his opinions of the other man to himself.

“He’s changed.” She felt the need to defend her decision to give Roy another chance.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he stated. She wished she knew if he truly meant those words, but as usual, his face revealed nothing of what he was thinking.

The parking lot attendant had brought the car around, and he held the door open for her. Reluctantly, she climbed inside. Garret didn’t speak as he drove except to ask for directions. She should have been used to it by now—his penchant for silence. It had been that way since the first day she met him. She’d never known a man who could get so lost in his own thoughts.

When they reached Roy’s apartment complex, he said, “Wait. I’ll walk you to the door.”

He was the dutiful escort, making sure she arrived safely inside the dimly lit lobby. “Thanks. It’s right here.” She motioned to the lower level apartment. “Someone’s home. I can hear music.”

“So can half the neighborhood,” he said dryly.

“You can leave. I’m fine.”

He surveyed their surroundings with a critical eye, then said, “I’ll go back to the car, but I’d appreciate you signaling when you’ve made it inside.”

She nodded and watched him walk away before pounding on Roy’s door. She knew it wasn’t likely he’d hear her. The music was too loud. She figured he was probably stretched out on the sofa, watching videos on MTV and missing her.

Krystal dug deep into her purse for a key she’d never returned after one of their earlier breakups. She inserted it in the lock and pushed open the door.

“Surprise! Party was over sooner than I expected,” she announced as she stepped into the room.

Only the party wasn’t over in Roy’s apartment. He was indeed on the sofa with music videos playing on his big-screen TV, but he was definitely not missing her. Next to him was a woman. A naked woman whose limbs were entwined with his.

The blood rushed to Krystal’s face and pounded in her temples. For a moment she was too stunned to speak, but then her anger erupted.

“You scumbag! How could you do this to me?” She screamed at him. “You told me being in the military had made you realize how important I was to you, that you were never going to look at another woman again. You…you…” she stammered, struggling to get her breath, so great was her fury. “You are a disgusting pig, Roy Stanton, and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe you could ever change!”

“Wait, I can explain,” he began, but she wasn’t going to listen to one more word he had to say.

She threw the key at him, bouncing it off his bare chest. She turned and ran out of his apartment, sickened by what she’d seen. To her surprise, there were no tears flooding her eyes.

As she stepped outside she saw that Garret’s car was still at the curb. He saw her coming toward him and got out to open the door for her. She slid inside.

He didn’t say a word to her until he was behind the wheel. Then he said, “Change of plans?”

“Yes, change of plans,” she managed in a voice that was surprisingly calm.

“Where to now?”

When she looked at him she didn’t see her landlady’s son. She saw the man who’d looked at her with desire in his eyes. “Did you mean what you said earlier this evening?”

“You ought to know by now that I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he answered in a voice that sent a shiver of awareness through her.

“Then take me to your place.”

CHAPTER ONE

“I’M SORRY YOU HAD TO WAIT, Angie,” Krystal said as she escorted her eleven-o’clock appointment to her workstation.

It was an apology she issued often in a typical workday. No matter how hard she tried to stay on time, she usually failed. Not because she was slow, but because she regarded styling hair as an art form and one that shouldn’t be hurried. Creating the right look for a client was more important than staying on schedule.

Angie brushed away her apology with a flap of her hand. “No problem. I needed the downtime and your reception area provided a very nice distraction. That construction site across the street is crawling with men in tight, dusty jeans. Have you seen the size of the arms on some of those guys?”

“I try not to look,” Krystal told her, shaking out the black plastic cape before draping it over Angie’s shoulders. “A guy I used to date works there. A real zero. Cute with a great body but—” she pointed to her head “—nothing up here.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. A good personality can make a guy look attractive, and you can always drag him to the gym and work out together to get his body in shape, but if he’s dumb as dirt, what’s the point?”

“There isn’t one. So what are we doing today? The usual?”

“Uh-uh. I need a change. Chop it off.”

“Oh-oh. If you want me to cut it, you must be having guy trouble.”

She grinned. “You know me well, don’t you?”

Krystal knew most of her regular clients very well. She regarded them as friends and she often found herself privy to information some of them hadn’t even shared with their closest family members. She knew that before this woman left, she’d know all about her breakup with her boyfriend.

“Any ideas as to what you want me to do?” she asked, running her fingers through the blond tresses.

“Take it up to about here.” She used her hand as a measure, raising it to just below her ear. “I’ll let you decide how you want to style it.”

Krystal studied the hair from all angles, lifting and rearranging strands as she mentally sculpted a new style. She loved it when a client gave her carte blanche. Creating the right look for someone was a challenge and she took great satisfaction in knowing that if she did her job well, she would make a woman feel better about herself.

While Krystal shampooed and rinsed the woman’s hair at the sink, the client filled her in on her troubled love life. Krystal didn’t mind. She was a people person and enjoyed hearing what was happening in their lives—the good and the bad. It was one of the aspects she loved most about her job—interacting with others.

“So how are things with you?” the young woman finally asked Krystal when she was once more sitting facing the mirror.

It was a question Krystal expected to hear from all of her regular clients at some point during their visits. And usually her life was an open book, with many of her customers knowing as much about her personal life as her friends did, but not today. A page had been written she wasn’t ready for anyone else to read. At least not yet.

“Things could be better,” she said, tossing the wet towel into the bin behind her.

“Does that mean you and Roy have split up again? The last time I was in you told me you were giving him one more last chance to make things work.”

“I did and that was a mistake.”

“It didn’t work out?”

She chuckled sardonically as she reached for a comb. “It lasted all of three days. I wanted to believe that serving in the military had changed him. I was wrong.”

“You don’t sound brokenhearted over it,” Angie observed.

“Because I’m not.” It was the truth. Looking back now she could see how foolish she’d been when it came to her relationship with Roy, seeing only what she wanted to see. She’d wasted her time trying to recycle an old love—only it hadn’t even been love, just a misplaced devotion. She wished it hadn’t taken her so long to realize that.

“I suppose you’ve already found one…or two…or three guys to take his place,” she said with a sly grin.

“Uh-uh. My juggling days are in the past. Gone for good,” Krystal said on a note of finality.

“You’re kidding!” Wide eyes met hers in the mirror. “You are like the queen of the dating scene.”

“Not anymore I’m not. I need a break from dating.”

“You and me both,” she seconded, then went on to lament the lack of decent men in their age group, concluding with the statement that life would be less complicated without men.

Krystal knew that her life certainly would be if she hadn’t let one particular man into it. When she’d finished styling her client’s hair, she handed her a mirror. “What do you think?”

“It looks fabulous.” As she climbed out of the chair, she pulled a folded ten-dollar bill from her pocket and gave it to Krystal. “Thank you so much for the great cut.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

“Oh, I do. And I appreciate you letting me whine about guys,” she said as she straightened her skirt.

“Hey—we all need to do it now and then,” Krystal told her.

“Yes, we do, and especially with someone who understands what it’s like out there in the dating world. You, Krystal, are one smart lady when it comes to men,” she told her, then, with a grateful wave goodbye, headed for the front desk.

A few minutes later one of Krystal’s co-workers approached her with her lunch—an order of take-out barbecue ribs. “Want some? I’ll share.” She held up the package invitingly.

The aroma hit Krystal the way heat blasted her face when she stepped outside from cool air-conditioning, causing her stomach to revolt. She uttered, “No, thanks,” then bolted for the bathroom. She barely managed to get there before she was sick.

As she washed up at the sink, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and thought, Oh yeah, I’m real smart when it comes to men. She clicked her tongue in disgust, dried her hands and went back to work.

GARRET WAS TIRED. He’d spent most of the night at the hospital with a patient and after only a few hours of sleep on a cot in the doctors’ lounge, he’d had to make his morning rounds, fill out a mountain of paperwork and attend a staff meeting. Now he’d promised one of the nurses at the clinic that he’d stop in and check on her mother who was a patient in a nursing home.

Garret knew that if Dolly Anderson still lived in her house on the east side of St. Paul, she’d be outside in her large floppy hat tending her vegetables. But at eighty-nine, a broken hip had marked the end of her days as a home owner and landed her in the nursing home not far from her old neighborhood. Although her bones had healed, she’d never regained the strength and agility to return home. That hadn’t stopped her from gardening, however.

When Garret arrived at the nursing home, he found her outdoors tending to the plants on the tiny patio outside her room. One hand rested on a cane helping her stand, the other clutched a plastic watering can.

“Got any pumpkins in that patch?” he called out as he made his way across the lawn toward her.

She looked up at him. “It’s a good thing you’re a brilliant doctor. You’d stink as a farmer. Pumpkins need room to spread.” As he drew closer she added, “You look tired. You’d better go easy on the women for a while and catch up on your sleep.” She gave him a crooked grin.

“Oh, Dolly, you ought to know you’re the only one for me.” He’d never been much for flirting with women, but with her he couldn’t resist. “How come you’re not wearing your sun hat?”

“Don’t want to mess up my hair.” She turned back to watering her plants. “Just had it styled. I always get it done on Tuesdays.”

He didn’t correct her and tell her it was Wednesday.

“What brings you here?” she wanted to know.

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop and see how you’re doing.”

She slanted a look at him. “Liar. I know Mavis called you.”

He didn’t deny the accusation. “She’s worried you might have a cold.”

She harrumphed. “Can you believe it? My daughter is fifty-nine years old and she still doesn’t know the difference between a cold and allergies. If I cough, it’s because the pollen count is high. It tickles my throat. It’s been that way ever since I was a child.”

“That’s why I told you to stay inside in air-conditioning this time of the year,” he said with a gentle wag of his finger.

“Can’t. Have to take care of my garden.”

The garden to which she referred was comprised of large pots holding a variety of vegetable plants on her patio. To his amazement, she had cherry tomatoes, radishes, green peppers and even a bean plant, which she’d staked with a yardstick.

“Don’t they feed you here?” he asked.

“Of course they do. That isn’t why I have my vegetables and you know it,” she scolded him.

Yes, he did. On more than one occasion she’d told him that she’d planted her first garden during World War II when Americans were encouraged to grow their own vegetables as a sign of support for the troops. When her husband had been killed in the war, she’d decided to continue the tradition in honor of his memory. She’d been planting her victory garden for over sixty years.

“I brought you something,” he told her.

“Not more pills to swallow, I hope.”

“No, something sweet.”

That had her setting her watering can down and giving her attention to him. “Ooh. Gingersnaps,” she cooed, when he pulled a box of cookies from his bag and handed them to her. “What do I have to do for them? Take off my clothes?”

He saw the twinkle in her eye and smiled. “You know me well, Dolly.” Not many of his patients did, but he had a soft spot for this octogenarian with her sharp mind and keen wit.

“You’re not going to take my word for it that it’s only the pollen, are you, Dr. G.?”

“I’d like to, but I’m afraid if I don’t give you a clean bill of health, Mavis won’t get any sleep tonight. How about it? Should we put her mind at rest?”

She hesitated momentarily, then said, “All right. To please Mavis.” She moved slowly but with a gracefulness few women her age possessed. He slid open the patio door for her and followed her inside.

“You’re not going to make me get back into bed, are you? Once I’m up and dressed, I don’t like to even look at that thing,” she told him with a wave of her hand in the direction of her bed. “Someone around here is always trying to get me to nap. I’m not a nap person. Never was, never will be.”

He patted the leather chair. “How about sitting right here.”

Sitting had never been easy for someone as active as Dolly and today was no different than any other time he’d visited her. She squirmed and fidgeted, but he managed to complete the exam and was relieved when he found there was no cause for alarm.

“Okay, that’ll do it,”’ he said, stuffing his stethoscope back into his bag.

“I’m as right as rain, aren’t I?”

“You are. How’s the hip?”

“The only thing wrong with my hip is that it kept me from getting my hair done yesterday because I had to go to physical therapy,” she grumbled.

He looked at her white curls. “I thought you said you had your hair done today?”

“I did. My gal came back this morning. Made a special trip for me. Isn’t she just the sweetest thing?” She didn’t wait for an answer but continued on. “I think you’d like her. She’s pretty. Really pretty.”

“Now don’t go getting any ideas, Dolly,” he warned.

“I know better than to do that,” she said with a flap of her wrinkled hand. “Kryssie’s got too many boyfriends the way it is. She gets flowers all the time from this one or that one. They usually end up here…the flowers, that is. She doesn’t want reminders of a bad date.”

Garret didn’t comment and she continued on, “You wouldn’t be interested in her anyway being you’re not looking to settle down just yet. You have too many things to accomplish.”

“Yes, I do,” he agreed.

“Are you still thinking about the Doctors Without Borders program?”

Because Dolly’s husband had been in the Red Cross, Garret had told her about his interest in doing relief work. She’d shown him journals her husband had kept during his tour of duty overseas and shared stories of what it had been like to be a doctor’s wife during the 1940s. Besides being a very interesting woman, she was easy to talk to and encouraged Garret to use his medical training in whatever way he felt was best.

“I don’t think I’ll be leaving until after the first of the year,” he told her.

“I’ll miss seeing you, but I’m happy to share you with the rest of the world,” she said with a gracious smile. “You remind me so much of my husband. Dedicated. Passionate about helping people. A true gentleman.”

“Thank you. I wish I had known him.”

“You would have liked him. He was a good man.” A wistful expression came over her face as she talked about him. “We only had a few years together, but they were wonderful years. It’s too bad everyone can’t have a love like ours. There’d be a lot fewer divorces.”

“You were lucky.”

“Yes, we were. No amount of time can erase what we had together. True love is like that. It’ll go on forever…” She trailed off, her eyes glassy with a distant expression in them. “Even after all these years I still have so many clear memories. And of course I have Mavis. There is no greater reminder of a love shared than a child. Don’t you agree?”

“I certainly do. And your daughter should sleep well tonight. Your lungs sound fine, Dolly.”

“I told you it was only my allergies causing me to cough.”

“Yes, you did,” he said, snapping his bag shut. “Do you have any questions before I go?”

“Oh, you’re leaving so soon?” she said, suddenly sounding very childlike. “I was hoping you could stay and talk.”

“I wish I could, but I have appointments this afternoon. I’m sorry.” His apology couldn’t have been more sincere. It was one of the aspects of his job he wished he could change—there were never enough hours in a day. He regretted not being able to spend more time with his patients and it frustrated him that he had to spend so much of his workday doing paperwork. He wanted to be helping people, which was why he was interested in doing humanitarian work.

She nodded her head in understanding. “Mavis said you’re the hardest-working doctor at the clinic.”

“I don’t know about that. All doctors work hard, Dolly.”

She sighed. “You don’t need to tell me. When you do finally settle down, you’d better make sure it’s with someone who understands that.”

“Of one thing you can be sure, Dolly, and that’s when I do finally get around to doing just that, you’ll be the first to know.” With that statement, he left her with a smile.

THE FIRST TIME KRYSTAL HAD walked into 14 Valentine Place she’d felt at home. If houses had personalities—which Krystal believed they did—this one’s was warm and inviting and definitely female, just like its owner, Leonie Donovan.

Contentment resonated in the polished wood floors and mahogany-trimmed walls. Krystal noticed it every time she stepped through the front door. Her landlady said it was because it had been home to a happy family. Three generations of Donovans had lived in the house and there’d been no divorce, no bitter battles over who owned what, no kids coming and going in split-custody arrangements.

It was only after Leonie’s husband had died unexpectedly that the big old Victorian structure had been converted into a boardinghouse. Everyone understood why Leonie had decided to rent the rooms to women. She’d raised four sons and had reached a point in her life where she wanted to connect with the feminine side of life.

Krystal had been one of the first women to rent a room and, like everyone else who would live at 14 Valentine Place, was treated like a member of a family. It was an extended family that included Leonie’s sons, her daughters-in-law and her grandson. It was a family rich in history, just like the house, and hearing the Donovan brothers talk about their childhoods reminded her how very different their lives had been from hers.

That’s because home to her had been a series of house trailers, none of them double-wide. What little furniture they’d had was either rented or purchased at a garage sale or flea market. There had been no family heirlooms handed down from generation to generation. While Leonie’s home often smelled of lemon-scented furniture polish, the mobile homes where Krystal had lived had reeked of stale cigarette smoke.

Not that Krystal had been unhappy with her childhood—she hadn’t. It was just very different from the one the Donovan boys had experienced, and not just because they lived in a house with a concrete foundation and plaster walls.

She’d grown up in a house of women. She’d never known her father, she didn’t have a brother and she seldom saw her grandfather. If her mother had men friends, she and her sister Carly never saw them.

Krystal knew it was because she was trying to be a good role model for her daughters. To Linda Graham, the most important lesson she could teach her daughters was not to make the same mistakes she had. She’d had not one but two teen pregnancies, and she’d made it clear that she wanted her daughters to have a different life than she’d had. It was why she had imposed such strict rules when it came to dating.

No matter how hard Krystal and Carly had tried to convince her they were teenagers who could be trusted, their mother had refused to allow them to date until they were seniors in high school. Both had thought their mother was unfair, but only Krystal had rebelled against her authority, willing to risk punishment for a chance at romance.

The strict rules may have been a good parenting tactic in Linda Graham’s eyes, but to Krystal they had only created distance in their mother-daughter relationship. Her love life became a frequent source of conflict between them that continued into her late teens and early twenties.

It was one of the reasons Krystal had been eager to move out of Fergus Falls. Besides the limited employment opportunities, the town was small enough that it was difficult to keep her personal relationships private. And as long as she lived there, she felt as if her mother was looking over her shoulder into her love life.

Until she moved into 14 Valentine Place, she’d thought most mothers were probably like hers—critical of whomever their children dated. Then she met Leonie. Even though her landlady was a romance coach, she seldom interfered in her sons’ love lives.

Leonie rarely gave anyone unsolicited advice, yet she was always there for moral support when it was needed. Not only did she encourage the young women who rented rooms from her to feel free to come to her if they wanted to talk about relationships, she designated the living room in the house as the great room where discussions of men and romance became a regular occurrence. It wasn’t long before Krystal came to regard Leonie as a second mother, only with this mother she could talk about everything and anything.

At least she had been able to until a few weeks ago. Now that aspect of their relationship had changed. Krystal had made a mistake. A big mistake. And it was one she was reluctant to admit to anyone, and especially to her mother and Leonie.

Instead she would keep it secret. Not easy for someone who usually blurted out whatever was on her mind. Worried that Leonie would be able to detect that she was keeping something from her, Krystal did her best to avoid seeing her landlady.

Today, however, was Tuesday, which meant Leonie wouldn’t be at home. She’d be teaching a class on the dos and don’ts of dating at the community center and that meant the only other person in the boardinghouse would be Dena Bailey, since the third-floor apartment was still vacant.

As she expected, Dena was in the kitchen. When she saw Krystal she said, “Oh good! You’re home. I was hoping I’d see you.” She motioned for Krystal to come sit beside her. “Come join me for a glass of lemonade.”

Krystal shook her head. “I’ll pass on the lemonade, thanks.” She did go over to the refrigerator, however, to get a bottle of water. When she opened the door, the aroma of the leftover parmesan chicken she’d had the night before nearly caused her to bolt toward the bathroom. She didn’t understand how something could taste so good warm yet smell so bad cold that it made her wish she’d never gone near it.

But then so many things made her stomach queasy. Like when she was in an elevator and someone stepped in wearing perfume. Or the pungent smell of gasoline at the service station. Or the tiny bit of oatmeal left in Leonie’s bowl each morning.

Krystal shuddered and willed her stomach to settle itself. When she sat down at the table, she saw Dena had a bridal magazine spread open in front of her.

“What’s up with that? I thought you and Quinn were going to elope.”

“I thought we were, too, but then we sat down to make plans and before I knew it, we’d reserved the church and booked the reception hall. It’s amazing what that guy can talk me into.”

“Must be the power of love,” Krystal remarked, noting the glow on Dena’s cheeks. “So when’s this big day going to happen?”

“September sixth.” Seeing Krystal’s jaw drop open, she quickly added, “I know, it doesn’t give us much time, but we’ve hired a wedding coordinator who assures us it’s possible. Still, I feel as if I have too much to do.”

“I would think so. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually, there is. You could be one of my bridesmaids.”

The invitation caught Krystal by surprise. “You want me to be in the wedding?”

Dena nodded and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her response, only Krystal didn’t know what to say. “That is so sweet of you to ask me, but…” She paused, searching for the right words to decline without hurting Dena’s feelings.

“But I shouldn’t have asked because we haven’t been friends all that long,” Dena finished for her, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Krystal. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

Krystal reached for her hand. “You didn’t. I’m honored that you asked me. The fact that you did says a lot about our friendship.”

“But you still don’t want to do it.”

“I want to, but…” She hated to bring up the subject, but knew she had no choice. “You know I’m pregnant.”

Dena gave her a blank look. “Yeah, so what?”

“So all eyes are supposed to be on you, the bride. By September sixth I’m going to be just far enough along that people will be wondering if I’m having a baby or if I’m just getting fat. You don’t need that kind of distraction at your wedding.”

“Have you been talking to Maddie? She’s worried about the same thing and I’m going to tell you what I told her. It doesn’t matter if your belly sticks out like a watermelon, which it won’t. I want you to be in my wedding.”

Maddie Donovan was a dear friend to both of them. Although she’d already married Leonie’s son Dylan and moved to France before Dena had moved into 14 Valentine Place, her friendship with Dena went back to their college days when they’d been roommates. Had it not been for Maddie, Dena wouldn’t have rented her old room at the boardinghouse and she and Krystal wouldn’t have become friends.

“Is Maddie going to be in the wedding?” Krystal asked.

“Yes. I convinced her that I had found the perfect dress to cover what she refers to her as her walrus-shaped body, although I can’t imagine Maddie looking anything but gorgeous no matter how much weight she gains.”

“Are there dresses that can hide pregnant tummies?”

“Actually, there are.” She thumbed through the magazine until she’d found the page she wanted, then shoved it toward Krystal. “Look at this plum one. See how high the waistline is? It’s perfect for you and Maddie…and my sister-in-law, Lisa, too. She’s going to be my matron of honor, and having had three kids, she also wants to hide her bulges.”

“Don’t dresses in these magazines take months to order?”

“Not a problem. Quinn’s sister has a friend who works in a bridal shop and she says she can put a rush on them and get them in time, but I do need to get moving on this, which is why I really need an answer from you…like today.” She gave her an apologetic grin.

Krystal wanted to say yes. Dena had only lived across the hall from her for six months, yet in that time they’d become good friends. She also liked Dena’s fiancé Quinn, who was the only man Leonie had allowed to live upstairs. A close friend of the family he had become like a brother to Krystal, as well.

“Would it make it any easier for you to say yes if I said you could bring Roy as your date?” Dena asked when she continued to deliberate.

“Good grief, no!” Her response was forceful enough that Dena apologized.

“I guess that means you haven’t worked things out.”

“No, and we aren’t going to.”

“I’m sorry. I thought…with the baby…” She trailed off, looking a bit self-conscious.

Krystal reached across and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I should have told you before now that Roy isn’t the father of my baby.”

Dena tried not to look shocked, but Krystal knew she was. Although she’d dated many men, Roy had been the only serious relationship she’d had since living at 14 Valentine Place. It was only natural that people would expect that she was carrying his child. Krystal knew it was what most of her friends would think when they learned of her pregnancy.

“Have you told the father?” Dena asked in a quiet voice.

Krystal shook her head. “Not yet. I want to, but it’s complicated.” She wished she could tell her just how complicated it was, but she couldn’t. Not with the wedding only weeks away.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right?”

Krystal nodded. “Thanks for caring, but I’m afraid the only thing you can do is not mention to anyone that I’m pregnant.”

Dena held up her hand. “That goes without saying. I won’t say a word.”

“What about Quinn? He was the one who found my home pregnancy test in the bathroom,” she reminded her.

“Yes, but I’m not sure he even realizes it was yours. At the time I told him it could belong to any one of a number of your friends who’d stayed with you. Don’t forget. He’s lived upstairs so he knows how popular you are.”

“I usually do have people coming and going, don’t I?” she said, hoping Dena was right about Quinn.

“Yes, but if you’re worried, I can speak to him about it.”

“Would you mind?”

“No, not at all. Now, back to my request,” Dena said with an endearing smile. “Will you be my bridesmaid?”

As tempting as it was to decline her request, Krystal could see by the look on Dena’s face how important it was to her. “If you’re sure you want me, then yes, I’d love to be in your wedding.”

Dena leaned over to give her a hug. “Thank you. It’ll be so much easier for me to do this whole wedding thing knowing you and Maddie will be there.”

Easier for Dena maybe, but more difficult for Krystal. “How many people are coming?”

“We wanted to keep it small, but that’s not easy to do when your fiancé is a professional hockey player.” She flipped open her day planner. “Here’s what’s been decided so far.”

They spent the next two hours discussing everything from what music should be played at the church to what lingerie Dena should take on her honeymoon. It was exactly the kind of girl talk Krystal needed and she appreciated the fact that Dena made no other references to her pregnancy.

“So now you know why I’m so nervous,” Dena said as she stacked her day planner on top of the bridal magazine. “By the time this wedding is over, I’m going to be a basket case and you are going to be happy to be rid of me.”

“I most certainly will not be. I hate the thought of you leaving,” Krystal said sincerely. “I’m glad you decided not to move out until after the wedding. Do you know if Leonie has found someone for the third floor?”

“You haven’t heard?” When Krystal gave her a blank look, she continued. “I thought you would know all about it. You see more of Garret than I do.”

Krystal frowned. “Know what?”

“Your plan worked.”

Krystal was puzzled. “What plan?”

“Going with him to the hospital ball to make his old girlfriend jealous. It must have worked.”

Krystal had a bad feeling in her gut and it had nothing to do with morning sickness. “He’s seeing Samantha again?”

“He must be. Why else would she be moving in here?”

Krystal gasped. “No! Oh please, tell me it isn’t true!” she begged.

“Isn’t she the one you said had so many ruffles on her dress at that party that she looked like she could set sail if a gust of wind came up?” Dena asked.

“Yes, and it’s too bad it didn’t,” Krystal retorted.

“Wow! You really don’t like her, do you?”

Krystal could see the curiosity in her eyes and knew she needed to give an explanation. She would have liked to have told Dena the real reason she hated to see Samantha Penrose move into the house, but the bride-to-be didn’t need to get drawn into the melodrama her life had become.

So instead she said, “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m just in a witchy mood. This early stage of pregnancy is like having PMS 24/7.” She brushed the hair from her forehead and sighed.

“It’s all right, I understand,” Dena assured her.

“Will you please just forget I made a fuss, because I shouldn’t have said anything. That night of the hospital ball I hardly spoke to Samantha. For all I know she could be a very nice person.”

“I don’t think Leonie would have rented the apartment to her if she didn’t think she would fit in here. You know how she is about her tenants,” Dena pointed out.

Krystal nodded. “I’m just surprised she gave her Quinn’s old place. I didn’t think Leonie liked her because of what she did to Garret. You do know that she was the one who left him.”

Dena nodded. “If Leonie had any hard feelings toward her, they’re gone. She spoke very highly of Samantha when she mentioned her to me. Said she was lovely and that she thought we’d get along with her just fine.”

Krystal had to stifle the laughter that nearly spilled out of her. Fortunately Dena’s cell phone rang at that moment.

“I’m sorry, Krys, but I have to take this. It’s Quinn. You don’t mind, do you?”

Krystal shook her head, excused herself and went up to her room. As she climbed the stairs, her legs felt like undercooked pasta. The first thing she did when she got inside her apartment was to collapse on to her bed and stare at the ceiling, stunned by what Dena had told her.

Samantha Penrose would soon be living above her.

If it weren’t so tragic it would be funny, Krystal thought. She threw her shoe at the ceiling and groaned in frustration. This couldn’t be happening to her. Was fate so cruel or had her life suddenly become a black comedy?

She could only wonder what the lovely Samantha was going to say when she found out her new neighbor was pregnant with her boyfriend’s baby.

CHAPTER TWO

“WHAT DO YOU THINK? Wing collar or lay-down?” Quinn Sterling held two pleated shirts up for Garret’s inspection.

Before he could answer, Shane Donovan leaned close to them and said, “Whichever one doesn’t make you feel like you have a rope around your neck.” He made a choking gesture with his hands.

“He does have a rope around his neck,” Dave Duggan was quick to add with a cocky grin.

Shane’s and Dave’s kidding brought back memories of their teenage years when the four of them had been the best of friends and someone was always making a wisecrack. Garret pointed to the shirt on his right. “Go with the wing collar and don’t pay any attention to these guys. Marriage is going to be a good thing for you and Dena.”

“So speaks my brother, the bachelor,” Shane drawled sarcastically.

“Hey—his turn will come. Some woman will get her hooks into him sooner or later,” Dave warned.

Quinn put one of the hangers back on the rack of starched white shirts. “My money’s on later.”

“I’d say sooner, judging by the way women eye him once he puts on that white coat,” Dave teased.

“Quinn has you on this one, Dave. Come the first of the year, Garret’s going to be overseas practicing medicine,” Shane said.

“That doesn’t mean he can’t get married,” Dave pointed out.

Garret would have preferred not to have his bachelor status be the topic of discussion, but he knew you couldn’t put a group of men in a wedding wear shop and not have the usual banter involving women and marriage. Since the only other single guys in the wedding party were hockey players and everyone apparently expected them to be bachelors, Garret was the prime target for their quips.

“Just for the record, as happy as I know married life can make a man, I think I’ll stay single for a while…like five or ten more years,” he added with a huge grin.

“I hope you told that to Samantha Penrose,” Dave remarked.

That had Quinn asking, “Who’s Samantha Penrose and how come I haven’t met her?”

“She’s just a colleague,” Garret answered.

Dave elbowed Shane. “Did you hear that? Just a colleague? Is that any way to talk about your old girlfriend who’s hot for you?”

Quinn shot Garret an inquisitive look. “All right, out with it. What did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Garret answered. “Samantha and I dated while we were in medical school. Then she left to do her internship, but recently she moved back to take a position at a hospital here.”

“She’s not the doctor who’s taking over my apartment at 14 Valentine Place, is she?” Quinn asked.

It was the first Garret had heard of it. He turned to his brother. “Has Mom rented the third floor to Samantha?”

“Yes and I can tell by the look on your face she didn’t ask you about it before she did,” Shane answered.

No, she hadn’t, and it annoyed him. He wondered what his mother was up to. First she’d finagled him into going to the hospital ball so that he would see Samantha again, now she was moving her into the boardinghouse. It wasn’t like his mother to meddle in his personal life, so just what was going on?

Dave slowly shook his head and whistled through his teeth. “It’s not a good sign, Garret…your old girlfriend moving into a house where there’s a matchmaker.”

“She’s not a matchmaker,” Garret corrected him. “She’s a romance coach.”

Dave shrugged. “Same difference. She hooked Quinn up with Dena, didn’t she? And Dylan with Maddie. Has she had any tenants move out who weren’t getting married? I mean, they move into that place single and the next thing you know…” He clapped his hands. “Bang. There’s a wedding in the works.”

Shane shoved his hands to his hips. “I hadn’t thought about it before, but you’re right. All of her previous tenants are married.”

When Dave began to hum a funeral dirge, Garret stopped him with a raised palm. “You can cut the music. If I ever get married, it will be to someone of my choice, not my mother’s. And I say if because I’m telling you guys, my plans at this time don’t include marriage.”

It was the truth. Right now all he wanted to think about was his career. To finally have the freedom to choose what he wanted to do with his medical training was exhilarating. It made all the struggles he’d been through the past ten years worthwhile.

“Come on, buddy. Are you going to say you don’t have any time for women in those plans?” Dave asked him on a note of disbelief.

“Women yes, marriage no,” Garret said with a sly grin.

Quinn clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s exactly what I said right before I met Dena.”

Garret was relieved that a wedding specialist chose that moment to arrive, and for the next half hour, talk was of tuxedos and accessories. While they were measured and fitted for the formal wear, they discussed their roles as ushers and groomsmen at the wedding and reception.

When a question arose regarding which groomsman would be escorting which bridesmaid down the aisle, Quinn said, “I’m not sure. That’s Dena’s territory.”

“I’ll take the hot redhead who lived downstairs from you,” one of the hockey players offered with a huge grin.

“You mean Krystal.”

Upon hearing her name Garret’s blood stirred. It had always been that way, even before he’d spent the night with her. Someone would mention her name and he’d be aroused. He blamed it on the fact that the first time he’d seen her she’d been half-naked. He could still remember the look of surprise that had been on her face when he’d pushed open the laundry room door at 14 Valentine Place and found her sorting her dirty clothes clad only in a lacy bra and pants.

Ever since that day he had fantasized about what it would be like to see all of that delectable body un-clothed. Never had he expected it to happen, and certainly not on the night of the hospital ball. Only it had happened and now he was having trouble forgetting how she had looked lying naked in his bed.

“Is she seeing someone?” the hockey player asked.

“Are girls that hot ever not seeing someone?” Dave wanted to know. “She probably has guys lining up halfway around the block to take her out.”

“I bet I could get to the front of the line,” boasted the hockey player.

Garret didn’t doubt that he could. He looked like the kind of guy Krystal would find attractive. She liked men who looked as if they spent more time at the gym than they did at a job and dressed as if they were on their way to a GQ photo shoot.

He wondered what everyone would say if he announced that he had been to the front of the line. That he’d spent the night with her and she was everything a fantasy should be and then some.

He chuckled to himself. They probably wouldn’t believe him. Not that he could blame them. He and Krystal were as different as night and day. No one would expect that someone as fun loving and outgoing as Krystal would be attracted to a man who spent most of his free time reading medical journals.

“Knowing Krystal, I bet she already has a date lined up for the wedding,” Quinn commented.

Garret suspected he was probably right. There was no shortage of men in her life. He only hoped that the man she did bring wouldn’t be Roy Stanton. After the way Roy had betrayed her, Garret didn’t want to think she would ever let the creep back into her life. Yet he knew the possibility existed. History had proved that she’d forgive him for almost anything.

“Will you be bringing this Samantha as your date to the wedding?” Quinn interrupted his thoughts.

“Ah…I’m not sure,” he said evasively. Until now he hadn’t considered taking anyone, but if he needed a date, Samantha would be a sensible choice. She was, after all, more his type than someone like Krystal.

Again his thoughts returned to the beautiful, impulsive hairdresser. He wondered if she ever thought about their night together, or had she simply written it off as a night she wanted to forget. Judging by the way she’d avoided him whenever he’d stopped in at 14 Valentine Place lately, he guessed it was the latter. He knew he should do the same. Forget about her, forget about that night.

Only he couldn’t. He’d messed with a fantasy and his life would never be the same.

“I’M SO GLAD YOU WERE OFF today and you could help me move,” Samantha told Garret as she filled a shelf with books.

Because she’d hired professional movers, there was little to do except help her unpack boxes. To someone as organized and as efficient as Samantha, it was a task that didn’t take long to accomplish.

“I believe that’s the last of it and just in time,” she told him as she dusted her hands off on her blue jeans. “I’m ready for lunch. Where do you recommend, since this is familiar territory to you?”

“Dixie’s is good and it’s close.”

“Great, I’ll just make a couple of phone calls and we’ll go.” She leaned over to grab her phone from her desk.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs. It’ll give me a few minutes to talk to my mom,” he told her, then headed down to the first floor.

He found his mother in the kitchen seated at the large round oak table. She wasn’t alone. Krystal sat across from her, a pair of scissors in her hands. Her expression was one of concentration as she cut clippings from a magazine.

Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans with her hair pulled back from her face and held in place by a barrette, she looked like an innocent and very different from the woman who’d seduced him the night of the hospital ball. She’d been all glitter and glamour and his body tightened as he remembered what had happened after they left the party.

“All finished?” his mother asked when she noticed him.

“Yes.” He didn’t miss the way Krystal kept her eyes lowered and focused on her task. Usually she greeted him with a grin and started a conversation, but not today. He’d expected that after the way they’d parted the next morning, things would be awkward between them, but not this awkward.

As he moved closer to her he saw what had her attention. Spread out on the table were what looked to be paper dolls, only they were all men wearing swimsuits and none of them had heads.

“What’s up with that?” he asked, gesturing to the clippings. “Are you venting your frustration with the opposite sex?”

“We’re working on a game for Dena’s wedding shower,” his mother answered.

“What kind of game has headless male swimsuit models?” he asked.

“A fun one,” Krystal answered, cutting around a pair of men’s legs.

His mother used her scissors to point to a small stack of paper heads. “The object is to match the celebrity’s head with the body. Each match is worth a point. The person with the most points wins. It’s as simple as that.”

“But Quinn is five points,” Krystal corrected.

“Quinn? You have his body in here?”

“Of course. He is a celebrity,” his mother reminded him. “Although it wasn’t easy finding him in a swimsuit. He’s usually photographed in his hockey gear.”

Garret peered more closely at the headless paper men on the table. “Which one is he?”

“You can’t tell?” his mother asked.

He chuckled. “No, Quinn has clothes on when I’m with him.” That comment caused Krystal to smile, but she didn’t look up at him. “Won’t this give Dena an unfair advantage? She’s probably the only one who’s seen that much of Quinn’s skin.”

“That’s part of the fun…seeing if she can identify her own fiancé without his clothes,” Krystal answered.

She glanced up at him then and, from the look in her eyes, he knew she was remembering what he looked like without his clothes. If his swimsuit-clad body was in the game, he wondered if she would be able to identify it.

She looked away and he knew that what had happened the night of the hospital party had definitely changed how she felt toward him. The old Krystal would have flirted with him and made a comment regarding the two of them sharing a secret. The new Krystal looked as if she wished he wasn’t in the same room with her.

Just then Samantha appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. In her usual take-charge manner, she strode in and greeted his mother.

“I’m glad you’re all settled,” Leonie said. “Have you met Krystal?”

“Yes, at the hospital ball,” Samantha extended a hand, but Garret could see her smile was forced. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Krystal stiffened and for a moment Garret thought she might bolt right out of her chair, but to his surprise, she smiled brightly, shook Samantha’s hand and said, “You’re right. You had on the dress with all the ruffles.”

The two women made small talk about the food and music at the party. Garret tried to remember Samantha’s ruffled dress, but all he could recall was the slinky dress that Krystal had worn. It had been a bright blue and cut to a vee in the front revealing a generous cleavage that had drawn the eyes of every man in the place. Then there had been the slit up the side that had spread whenever she walked, revealing a thigh that was ever so…

“Garret, I asked if that’s all right with you?” Samantha sounded a bit impatient and he realized he’d missed what she’d been saying.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Your mother offered to show me how to use the laundry facilities. You don’t mind waiting a few minutes longer, do you?”

She didn’t wait for his response but headed out of the kitchen.

Leonie followed her out and suddenly he found himself alone with Krystal for the first time since the party. She didn’t look at him but continued cutting out the paper dolls. Before today it would have been unusual for there to be quietness between them. But then it would have been unusual for anyone who was in Krystal’s company. She could talk enough for two people and often did.

Only she wasn’t talking now. She wasn’t even looking at him. And he knew why. They’d had a one-nighter and nothing would ever be the same between them again.

“I’m glad we have a few minutes alone,” he finally said, breaking the awkward silence. “I wanted to talk to you about Samantha living here.”

“If you’re worried I’m going to slip up and let the cat out of the bag that I wasn’t a real date that night of the ball, you can relax. I’m not going to say anything,” she told him, her concentration on the trimming of a brawny chest. She must have made a mistake because she crinkled the paper and tossed it aside.

“It was a real date, Krystal…or have you forgotten?” He deliberately made his tone seductive, wanting to get a response from her and he did. Her cheeks turned a light pink. “Besides, the cat’s already out of the bag,” he added.

That brought her head up with a jerk. “You told her the truth?”

“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t have?”

“Yes! What happened between us was private,” she said, her eyes sparkling with emotion. “I didn’t think you’d tell anyone.”

“I meant I told her the truth about why you went with me to the ball. She doesn’t know what happened after we left and I don’t plan to tell her. Or anyone else for that matter.”

She looked relieved. “Then she thinks we’re just friends.”

“We are friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He wasn’t so sure she wasn’t simply agreeing with him because she didn’t want to get into a discussion about what had happened between them. “Is it going to be awkward for you having her living upstairs?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to lose any sleep over it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking.”

She looked directly into his eyes and said, “Then why don’t you tell me?”

He couldn’t because, if he did and his mother and Samantha were to walk back into the room, they’d hear that he’d made love to her. Because that’s what was running through his mind right now—the memory of that night they’d spent together. How incredibly good sex had been with her. How he hadn’t been able to forget that it had happened—or that the only reason it had happened had been because she was trying to ease the pain of Roy Stanton’s betrayal.

But he couldn’t tell her any of those things so he said, “You know Mom likes to think that everyone who lives here is one big happy family.”

She set down her scissors and stared at him. “So that’s it. You’re not worried about things being awkward for me. You want to make sure I’m nice to her.”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” he denied firmly.

“Isn’t it?” She jumped up from the table. “I’ve got to go. I have things to do.”

“Krystal, wait,” he called out to her as she hurried out of the room.

She kept walking, saying, “You don’t need to worry, Garret. I’m not going to be mean to your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said, but she was already gone.

KRYSTAL AWOKE TO the feeling of something not being quite right in her world. It didn’t take her long to remember exactly what it was. Before even lifting her head from the pillow, she reached for the soda crackers on her nightstand. After several bites, she gingerly rolled out of bed, relieved that the home remedy for nausea worked for her.

As she did every morning, she showered then examined her naked body in the mirror, looking to see if it had changed enough that other people would notice she was pregnant. So far it hadn’t. Except for the slight thickening of her waist, which wasn’t any different from the bloating that usually accompanied her PMS, she looked the same as she had ten weeks ago. She wondered how much longer that would be true.

She hoped to keep her pregnancy secret until after Dena and Quinn were married. Weddings were supposed to be happy occasions and with so many Donovans involved in this one, the news that she was expecting Garret’s baby could make things uncomfortable for people she cared about, including Dena. She wasn’t going to take that risk. A pregnancy lasted forty weeks. Whether she told Garret now or in four weeks wouldn’t change that. Postponing the news would, however, make Dena’s wedding a more joyful celebration.

Which was why, after dressing in a pink polka-dot chiffon skirt and a white tailored blouse, she went straight to her car instead of stopping for breakfast in the kitchen. She felt confident that she could keep her secret from Leonie, but Samantha was a doctor, trained to diagnose such things as pregnancy. She didn’t want to be around her any more than was necessary.

On her way to the mall, she stopped at a convenience store for a bottle of orange juice and a container of blueberry yogurt, which she ate in her car. Next she tackled the shops with her usual zest for shopping.

When she’d purchased everything on her list, she glanced at her watch and saw that it was past noon. Her stomach growled in hunger, reminding her that, although she was plagued by morning sickness, there was nothing wrong with her appetite during the middle of the day.

She drove home expecting she’d have the kitchen to herself. Only as she pulled into the alley, she saw not only Samantha’s car but Garret’s, as well.

“Is it going to be awkward for you to have her living upstairs?” Garret’s question echoed in her mind.

She couldn’t believe he’d even ask such a thing. Of course it was awkward. She’d slept with the woman’s boyfriend. The only thing that made her even more uncomfortable was seeing him, which was why she didn’t want to go inside when she knew he and Samantha could very well be having lunch together in Leonie’s kitchen.

For the first time since she’d moved to 14 Valentine Place, the boardinghouse did not feel like home. And after everything that had happened the past few weeks, if there was one thing she needed, it was the comfort of home.

As she sat staring at the big old Victorian house, she realized this wasn’t the only place she called home. Lately she hadn’t been back to Fergus Falls, but ever since she’d moved to St. Paul she’d gone back to her hometown when she needed to be with people who loved her unconditionally.

Today she felt that need. Carly already knew about her pregnancy, but she’d been avoiding telling her mother about the baby for fear of what she’d say. Maybe the time had come for her to trust in that unconditional love and ease the burden of her secret a little.

So instead of parking her car next to Garret’s and going inside for lunch, she drove right on through the alley and out on to the city street. Within a few minutes she was on the interstate and heading west. She made one stop on the way—to pick up a chocolate milk shake at the drive-through window of a fast-food restaurant.

When she reached the city limits of Fergus Falls, it was the middle of the afternoon. As always when she returned to her hometown, she felt a rush of nostalgia. Nothing had changed since the last time she’d been back, except lawns that had been green were now brown from the extended hot spell.

The mobile-home park where her mother lived was on the north end of town. It, too, looked the same. A row of long metal boxes parked close together. Her mother was outside her pink-and-gray box home sunning herself on the small patio next to it. A woman Krystal recognized as her neighbor, Edie Fellstrom, was in the reclining lawn chair next to hers. Both wore two-piece swimsuits that were tinier than any Krystal had ever owned. White cotton balls covered their eyes.

They looked oblivious to everything going on around them. Country Western music played loud enough to drown out the sound of her tires crunching on the gravel. It wasn’t until Krystal slammed her car door that her mother removed the cotton balls and lifted her head.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Krystal was used to her mother’s sense of humor and didn’t take offense to the greeting.

“Hi, Mom.”

“What’s wrong?” she demanded to know.

“You make it sound as if I never come to visit you unless something is wrong.”

Her mother swung her legs to one side of the reclining lawn chair and sat up. “Why aren’t you at work?” she asked suspiciously.

“When I work Saturdays I get a weekday off. This week it’s Tuesday.” She watched her mother spritz arms already a deep bronze with cold water. “You should watch how much you sit in the sun, Mom. Too much isn’t good for you. It can cause cancer.”

“Everything causes cancer. Smoking, drinking, eating, breathing…” She shook her head. “I might as well just crawl into a box and wait to die.”

Krystal knew it was useless to argue with her, so she didn’t.

Edie said, “You don’t have to worry about your momma, Krystal. She takes good care of herself,” she assured her. “She uses sunscreen. We both do.” She held up a bottle for Krystal’s inspection.

Krystal forced a weak smile to her lips.

Her mother said, “Are you hungry? There’s chicken salad in the refrigerator.”

Only a few hours ago she would have jumped at the chance to eat. Now her appetite had deserted her again, replaced by an indifference to any food. She was learning that when it came to eating, as a pregnant woman she had a short window of opportunity.

“It’s too hot to eat,” she told her mother.

“It’s cool inside.”

Still Krystal shook her head.

Her mother rattled off several more food options before finally giving up. “Suit yourself. I hope you have more of an appetite by dinnertime. There’s a new Mexican place just up the road I’d like to try. Are you going to stay the night?”

She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She shrugged and said, “I suppose I can. I don’t have to be at work until noon tomorrow, but I didn’t bring any clothes.”

Her mother’s brow wrinkled. “You didn’t call to tell me you were on your way, you didn’t bring a change of clothes…what’s up with you? There is something wrong, isn’t there?”

Edie saw the questions as a sign for her to leave. She reached for a terry-cloth beach wrap draped over the back of her chair. “I gotta get going.”

“You don’t have to leave because of me,” Krystal told her.

“I’m not leaving because of you, sweetie. I’m leaving because I’m getting toasted.” She pushed the strap on her bra aside briefly and said, “See?” Then she downed the remainder of her beer, picked up her sunscreen lotion and slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops. Posed to go, she asked Krystal’s mother, “Are you planning to go to the candle party at Jilly’s tonight?”

“Not with Krystal here I’m not. Tell her to bring the booklet to work and I’ll order something there.”

“You don’t have to miss it because of me, Mom,” Krystal insisted.

Her mother flapped her hand in midair. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t really want to go.”

“Me, either. I was just going to see Jilly’s new place.”

Krystal turned to her mother. “I think you should go, Mom. I’ll visit Carly while you’re gone.”

“If you’re sure you don’t mind…it would be kinda fun…” She trailed off.

“Then it’s settled. You’re going,” Krystal stated firmly.

Edie waved goodbye and called out as she left, “I’ll pick you up at seven-fifteen.”

As soon as Edie was gone, her mother turned to Krystal and said, “Okay, so what’s wrong?”

Despite the fact that Krystal knew it was impossible to lie to her mother and get away with it, she said, “Nothing. Really.”

Her mother gave her a look Krystal had seen often. It said, I’ll let you think you’re fooling me, but we both know you’re not. She motioned for her to come inside the mobile home. “I want to show you what I’ve done to the place.”

Because her mother had told her she’d made some changes, Krystal expected to find new curtains on both the kitchen and living room windows. To her surprise, however, the entire inside had been paneled in white, replacing the dark walnut walls.

She did a three-sixty and spread her hands in wonder. “You did all this yourself?”

Her mother nodded. “Edie and I went to a couple of those classes they have at the home store in Alex. It’s not the most professional-looking job, but it’s good enough for this place.”

“It looks nice, Mom,” she told her, noticing she’d made a new slipcover for the sofa. Instead of the blue-and-green-plaid fabric that she and Carly had soiled on many an occasion, there was a polished cotton floral print. “I like what you did to the sofa. It adds a lot of color to the room.”

“And look. I finally got air-conditioning.” She pointed to a window unit humming quietly as it blasted cold air into the small home. “I had to. This summer is a killer. If you want it colder, just turn the knob.”

“No, it’s fine,” Krystal said, still looking around in amazement.

“Sit down. I’ll put on some clothes and then we’ll catch up.”

Krystal knew it wasn’t going to be easy to tell her about her pregnancy, not considering their history when it came to talking about sex. She hoped that, because her mother had been a single mom, she’d understand that what she needed most of all was a mom who was there for her.

“Even if you’re not hungry you must be thirsty. There’s beer and soda in the fridge. Help yourself,” her mother said as she moved through the tiny kitchen area.

“I’ll just have some water, thanks.”

“I don’t buy that bottled stuff. What I have comes straight out of the tap,” she warned before going into her bedroom and closing the door.

Krystal pulled a tumbler from the cupboard and filled it with water. Before sitting down at the table, she went over to the wall to look at the pictures hanging there. Most of them were of her and Carly when they were kids. She wondered why her mother didn’t have pictures of them as adults. She’d gone to all the trouble of replacing the paneling in the mobile home, yet she’d hung the same old pictures on the wall.

She looked to the far end of the living room and, as she expected, there hung the watercolor of the Eiffel Tower—a gift from one of her mother’s friends who’d been to France. It had to be close to twenty years old and had survived several moves in which many of her mother’s possessions had been carted away to the dump. Linda still hadn’t given up on her dream of someday visiting Paris.

When her mother returned, she had on a pair of capri pants and a scoop-neck top that made her look much younger than her forty-five years. “You look good, Mom.”

The compliment brought a smile. “Why thank you, dear.”

Again Krystal looked around. “I really like what you’ve done with the house.”

“It looks good, doesn’t it? I should have spruced up the place years ago, but there were always other things that needed my money.”

“Yeah, me and Carly.”

She chuckled. “One of you was always needing something.” She grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, twisted off the cap and took a sip. “Are you sure you don’t want a beer?”

Krystal shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

Her mother sat down across from her. “So why are you here on a hot summer day when you should be at the beach on one of those beautiful lakes they have down there in the cities?”

Krystal looked at her glass and shrugged. “You know I’m not a beach person.”

“No, but you’re a city person. You didn’t have any trouble making that transition, did you?”

“I like the fact that there are so many people. There’s an energy there…always something going on, always something in motion.”

“You don’t miss your hometown?”

“I miss you and Carly.”

She could feel her mother’s eyes on her. “Everything going okay at work?”

She nodded. “Yeah, work’s going good.”

“You must be putting in long hours. You look tired.”

She was tired, but not because of extra hours at work. “I’ve been busy and then it’s been so hot. You know the heat always drains me.” Even with the new window air conditioner, she felt warm and swiped at her brow with a napkin.

“Maybe you want to take a nap before dinner,” her mother suggested.

She nodded. “I would, but first I need to talk to you about something.”

Her mother’s brow furrowed. “So you didn’t just come because you wanted to see me. I should have known.”

“Mom, that’s not fair. I come up here all the time and very seldom do I ever ask for anything.”

Her mother reached for her hands and gave them a squeeze. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Oh, before I forget.” She jumped up and went over to the tiny bookshelf in the corner. “I have a new book for you.”

Krystal read the title aloud. “How to Marry Your Soul Mate in One Year Or Less.”

“I heard the author talking about it on TV,” her mother said, her voice full of excitement. “She knows her stuff, Kryssie. Take it home with you and read it.”

She nodded and murmured a thanks, knowing perfectly well that she’d take it home and add it to the pile of self-help books her mother had given her over the years—most of them about how to find a mate for life. She knew it was important to her mother that Krystal find her soul mate. Really important. Which made it all the more difficult for Krystal to tell her she was pregnant, yet it had to be done.

She set the book aside. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”

Her mother frowned. “Something’s bugging you. What is it? Are you having money problems? Is that it? If you need to borrow some, I have a little put away,” she told her.

Krystal pushed a stray red strand of hair back from her face. “I don’t need money, Mom.”

“But you need something. I can see it in your face.”

Krystal took a deep breath and clenched her fingers, aware that the moment she’d been dreading had arrived and there was no turning back. “I do need something, Mom. I need your understanding.”

“About what?” she asked slowly.

Krystal tried to get the words out, but they stuck in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty, trying to stop the emotion that threatened to make this even more difficult than it already was. When moisture pooled in her eyes, she knew she’d lost the battle.

Her mother saw her distress and demanded, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

A tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped at it with the back of her hand. “I messed up big time, Mom.”

“Messed up how? You didn’t get fired, did you?”

She shook her head. “It’s not about work, Mom. I already told you that.”

“Then tell me what it is about. You’re sitting there looking as if you’ve lost your best friend. Is that it? Did you and Shannon have words?”

Krystal reached into her purse for a tissue and blew her nose. She knew there was no easy way to tell her mother and blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

In the blink of an eye her mother’s hand slapped her face, stinging her cheek. For a moment, Krystal was too stunned to move. Then she jumped up from her chair, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

She expected her mother to come after her, to tell her she was sorry, that she’d reacted emotionally and she regretted it.

But she didn’t. For all Krystal knew she could still be sitting at the kitchen table. She certainly wasn’t making any effort to stop her daughter from leaving.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Krystal climbed into her car and started the engine. And for the second time that day she felt as if she were running away from home.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN KRYSTAL PULLED IN TO Carly’s long driveway she saw her sister sitting on the porch swing. Beside her was Emily, her four-year-old daughter. As soon as they saw Krystal’s car, they came running across the lawn to welcome her.

“I’m glad you came here,” Carly said, wrapping her in a sisterly hug.

It was the only place in Fergus Falls Krystal could go. Since she’d moved to St. Paul she’d lost touch with many of her friends. Most of them had moved away, but of the ones who remained, none could give her the emotional support that Carly provided.

As children they’d been like other close siblings, rivals one minute and best friends the next. Being older by fifteen months, Krystal had often played the role of protector, looking out for the smaller, more innocent Graham girl. It wasn’t until the emotional turbulence of adolescence that their roles reversed, with a calm Carly being the one who kept a watchful eye on an impetuous Krystal.

“Did Mom call?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.

Carly nodded. “I’ll tell you about it in a minute.”

Emily tugged on Krystal’s hand saying, “Auntie Krys, guess what? I get to go with Grandma.”

Krystal stiffened as she looked to her sister for an explanation.

“Relax. She means Joe’s mother,” Carly explained.

“I get to eat supper at Grandma’s, then go get ice cream at church,” Emily boasted.

“It’s an old-fashioned ice-cream social.” Carly then said to Emily, “Go get your backpack from the house. I think I see Grandma’s car coming.” As she skipped away she said to Krystal, “You didn’t tell me you were planning to tell Mom you’re pregnant today.”

“I didn’t know. I just got in the car and came up here on the spur of the moment.” She shook her head. “Boy, was that a mistake.”

Carly placed a hand on her arm, her eyes full of compassion. “Are you okay? You’re trembling.”

“I know. I should probably eat something. I haven’t had anything since breakfast except for a milk shake,” she told her, not wanting to begin a discussion with Carly’s mother-in-law in the driveway.

“I’ll make you something as soon as Joe’s mom leaves with Emily,” she said with a comforting pat on Krystal’s arm.

Krystal nodded and tried to act as if nothing was wrong as the three women made small talk. It was a typical August afternoon with the humidity making it feel much warmer than the temperature indicated. By the time Emily and her grandmother finally left, perspiration tickled the back of Krystal’s neck and she felt light-headed.

Carly noticed her paleness and looped an arm through Krystal’s. “Come. We’re going inside where it’s cool and I’ll get you something to eat.”

Carly’s house was definitely cooler than her mother’s, but then it was nothing at all like the homes in the trailer park. It was two stories of brick with tall ceilings, lots of windows, and a design that was as elegant as any of the model homes she’d seen in the cities. It had everything she and Carly had dreamed about as children, including a swimming pool in the backyard.

“Would you rather sit outside by the pool?” she asked when Krystal glanced through the patio door.

“No, this feels good.” As she passed the family room she saw a piano. “Where did that come from?”

“Joe’s parents bought it for Emily.” She nudged her toward the kitchen. “You sit while I make us some tea and get you something to eat. What sounds good?”

“Nothing,” she answered honestly.

Carly grinned. “I know that feeling. How about if I toast you an English muffin? I have some fresh raspberry jam.”

Krystal shrugged. “That’s fine.” She took a seat at the breakfast counter on one of the tall stools and watched her sister move about a kitchen that looked like something out of a magazine.

“So tell me what happened at Mom’s,” Carly ordered as she set two china cups on the counter.

“What did she tell you?”

“Not very much,” she answered, filling the teakettle.

Krystal knew her sister was being diplomatic. “You don’t need to worry about my feelings, Carly. I know Mom’s upset. I’m sure she sees my being pregnant as just another one of the many things I’ve done to disappoint her.”

“We both know she has high expectations of us,” she noted.

“Yes, well her expectations were met when it came to you. You have a beautiful house, a great husband, and an adorable daughter.” She sighed, not out of envy but because she knew it was the truth. Carly had fulfilled their mother’s dream for her. She, on the other hand, hadn’t even come close.

Carly frowned. “She didn’t drag my name into it, did she?”

“No, she didn’t say anything at all. There was no time. I blurted out, I’m pregnant, she slapped me and gave me this wounded look, then I left.”

Carly gasped. “She slapped you? She didn’t tell me that!”

“It’s probably not something she wants to admit.” The memory was enough to make Krystal’s eyes misty. “If there was one thing Mom never did to us when we were growing up it was hit us.”

“No, which means she must be really upset to strike you now,” Carly concluded.

“She’s upset? What about me? How does she think I feel?” They were rhetorical questions she didn’t expect her sister to answer. “The one time in my life when I could really use her understanding, she treats me as if I’ve shamed her.”

“You haven’t shamed anybody.”

“Tell that to her.”

“I already did. I’m on your side, Krys. You ought to know that. I always have been.” She reached for Krystal’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to put you in the middle between me and Mom.”

“Isn’t that where I am anyway?”

Krystal nodded soberly. They both knew that their mother had put them in that position by setting “married with children” as a standard by which she judged her daughters. Krystal knew it made Carly just as uncomfortable as it did her, but there was really nothing they could do about it.

“Part of the problem is she takes everything so personally,” Carly continued. “As if every mistake we make is her fault.”

“You mean every mistake I make,” Krystal corrected her. “Let’s face it. I’m the one who was always getting into trouble. And she hasn’t liked one single boyfriend I’ve brought home.” Her voice broke as she struggled not to cry.

“I can sure tell you’re pregnant.” Carly handed her a tissue.

Krystal blew her nose. “I thought I was emotional before I got pregnant. Now it’s ten times worse.”

“Maybe it’s better if we don’t talk about Mom. Let’s talk about you.”

“Then for sure I’ll be mopping up the tears,” she warned her.

“Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.” Carly came around to Krystal’s side of the counter and put her arm around her. “Where’s that ‘the glass is always half full’ sister of mine?”

“She discovered her glass is almost empty,” she said miserably.

“No, it isn’t,” Carly contradicted her. “You are going to be a mother, Krystal. That in itself is a miracle and a blessing.”

“I know, but right now I’m having trouble seeing the blessing part,” she confessed.

“Of course you are. It’s too early in your pregnancy for you to see this as anything but unexpected and scary. But you have a little person growing inside you. Someone who’s going to be so happy to have you for a mom.”

She sniffled. “Someone’s who going to wish I also had a husband.”

“Listen to me.” Carly grabbed Krystal by the shoulders and forced her to look into her eyes. “You don’t need a husband to be a good mother. And your baby has a father—a man you’ve told me is a good guy and one you know won’t turn his back on his child.”

Krystal nodded. “I know. I’m trying to stay positive about all of this, but it’s just such a big mess.”

“A mess that can be straightened out,” Carly stated reassuringly. “I know you want to wait until after Dena’s wedding to tell Garret about the baby, but I wish you’d do it now. You need to know what he plans to do. His reassurance that he’s going to be a part of the baby’s life would ease some of the stress you’re feeling. Plus then you wouldn’t have to keep this big secret from everyone.”

“You’re right. I will feel better once Garret knows, but I have to wait to tell him, Carly,” she insisted. “Do you realize what it’s going to be like at 14 Valentine Place when everybody hears of this pregnancy? Leonie’s the unsuspecting grandmother who lives downstairs, Samantha’s the unsuspecting girlfriend who lives upstairs, and Dena’s stuck in the middle trying to plan a wedding, one in which most of the Donovan family has a part. In a few weeks she’ll be married and it won’t matter what’s going on in the house, but for now I don’t want my problems spoiling what should be a happy time for Dena.”

“All right.” Carly hopped down off the stool to tend to the teakettle that whistled on the stove. “I won’t bug you about it again. Let’s talk about something fun. Tell me about the wedding. I want to know all the details. It’s not every day my sister’s a bridesmaid in a professional hockey player’s wedding.”

Krystal told her about the wedding shower and just about everything she could think of that Dena had told her about her plans, including the list of celebrities and professional athletes who’d be attending. It was the diversion Krystal needed to forget about the scene with her mother.

When Joe didn’t come home for dinner, Carly ordered a pizza for the two of them. By the time they’d finished, they were laughing and they’d forgotten the tears that had been shed earlier in the day. Even though she’d had the scene with her mother, Krystal was glad she’d driven to Fergus Falls for the day. Carly gave her something no one else could—a sister’s love and understanding.

When it came time for her to leave, she wasn’t surprised when her sister said, “I think you should go back to Mom’s. She cares about you, Krys.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of playing peacemaker between me and Mom?”

“Uh-uh. I love you both. And I know she loves you. And if you had heard her on the phone today, you’d know she does, too.”

Krystal sighed. “I’m not sure she’s ever going to speak to me again.”

“Of course she will.”

Krystal looked down at her fingers. “You didn’t see the look in her eyes when I told her I was pregnant.”

“You broke the most important rule she ever set for us. Do as I say, don’t do what I’ve done.”

“That’s why I thought maybe she’d understand where I’m at emotionally right now. I don’t need another critic. I have enough of them, but I could use a mother.” She hated that her voice faltered.

Carly placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Then don’t go home angry. Go back over there,” she urged her. “Mom will have had some time to think about this and to get over her initial shock.”

“You really think I should?”

Carly nodded. “The two of you need to talk.”

“I’m not sure we can. You know what Mom’s like. Did she show you the latest book she bought for me?” When Carly shook her head, she said, “It’s How To Marry Your Soul Mate in One Year or Less.”

Carly grimaced. “She just wants you to be happy.”

Krystal groaned in frustration. “She wants me to be married. How are we going to be able to have an honest discussion about my being pregnant?”

“You’ve got to try, Krys. For your sake and for Mom’s,” her sister pleaded with her. “You should listen to me on this one. I don’t have pregnant hormones messing with my emotions. You do.”

As difficult as it was, Krystal took her sister’s advice and went back to the trailer park. When she got to her mom’s, there was no one home. Krystal figured she’d gone to the candle party with Edie after all.

She found the spare key under the clay pot with the red geraniums and let herself in. Feeling a craving for something sweet, she opened the freezer, grateful to see that her mother hadn’t changed. Inside was a half gallon of her favorite ice cream—mint chocolate chip. It was Krystal’s favorite, too.

She ate two scoops, then stretched out on the sofa. She turned on the TV, trying not to think about what lay ahead when her mother returned.

Only her mother didn’t return. At eleven Krystal looked up Jilly’s number in her mother’s address book.

“Hi, Jilly, it’s Krystal. I heard you were having a candle party tonight. My mom isn’t still there, is she?”

“No, Kryssie,” the older woman replied. “She never came to the party. Edie said she went with a friend to hear some band play over in Alex.”

Friend meaning man, Krystal deduced, since if it had been one of her girlfriends Jilly would have said her name. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to wait and find out, because with her mother it was always the same old story.

Krystal got in her car and drove back to St. Paul. The house at 14 Valentine Place was in darkness when she arrived. She was glad. What she didn’t need was to find Samantha and Garret in the kitchen at two in the morning. She used the side entrance and quietly climbed the stairs to the second floor, relieved to find her room was once again the haven it had always been. She shed her clothes and crawled into bed.

KRYSTAL AND HER MOTHER HAD argued in the past, but never had they gone for more than a day or two without talking to each other. Now more than a week had passed without any communication between them. Krystal had called and left several messages after returning home, but now with each passing day, it became more difficult for her to pick up the phone, especially when she wasn’t sure if her mother would hang up on her.

But it wasn’t only the possibility of her mother rejecting her that kept her from calling. Pride stood in the way of her making a peace overture. Normally Krystal wasn’t one to hold a grudge, but lately nothing seemed normal when it came to her emotions.

That’s why, when she arrived home from work on the day of Dena’s bridal shower and found her mother sitting in Leonie’s kitchen, she found herself angry. She struggled to keep her feelings in check, unsure what had transpired between her landlady and her mother, who sat with their heads together over coffee.

They looked as comfortable as if they were the best of friends, which shouldn’t have surprised Krystal. Leonie had a way of making guests feel at home in her kitchen. Krystal could only hope that Leonie’s empathetic nature hadn’t evoked any great urge on her mother’s part to pour her heart out on the subject of her daughter’s pregnancy.

“Mom! I didn’t expect to see you here.” Krystal could feel Leonie’s eyes on her and she hoped she didn’t sound as uneasy as she was feeling.

“Isn’t it a lovely surprise?” Leonie asked with her usual cheerful grin.

Lovely was not the adjective that came to mind for Krystal. Scary was more like it. In less than two hours the house would be filled with people showering good wishes on Dena, and her mother had chosen today to visit. Since she rarely drove to the city, Krystal wondered if she’d come to scold her or to reconcile with her.

“We’ve been getting to know each other better,” Leonie said as she rose to get a refill of coffee.

Krystal eyed her mother suspiciously, wondering what she’d said to her landlady. Had she told her they’d been fighting? Or worse yet, had she revealed the reason for the tension between them? Judging by Leonie’s jovial expression, Krystal didn’t think she had.

“Leonie told me you’re giving Dena a bridal shower tonight,” Linda commented.

Krystal nodded. “Yeah, and I have a lot to do before the guests arrive, so I should go upstairs.”

“Maybe I can help,” her mother offered.

It was her peace offering and Krystal knew she should behave like a grown-up and accept, but she’d discovered that during pregnancy her moments of maturity had a way of escaping when she least expected it. “No, I’m fine. I can manage.”

She could see she’d shocked Leonie. Her landlady leaned over to her mother, patted her forearm and said, “That’s very sweet of you to offer to help, Linda. We can always use an extra pair of hands in the kitchen.”

Only Krystal knew that her mother’s smile was forced. “Just give me an apron and tell me what to do.”

To Krystal’s dismay, that’s exactly what her landlady did. Her mother listened intently as Leonie launched into a description of the melon baskets and vegetable crudités they were going to serve. Krystal felt as if the rug was being pulled out from under her feet. She needed to talk to her mother and she needed to do it soon.

“Mom, maybe before you get started down here you could come with me upstairs. I have the party favors in my room and we still need to decorate the great room, too.”

“No, you don’t,” Leonie told her. “Lisa was over earlier today and took care of the decorating. Wait until you see what she’s done. She has white paper streamers everywhere and lots of balloons.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Linda beat her to a response. “I’d love to take a look.”

“Go ahead,” Leonie instructed with a wave of her arm. “It’s just down the hall and around the corner.”

Krystal suppressed her sigh of frustration. “We can take a look when we bring the party favors down from upstairs.” She motioned for her mother to follow her out of the kitchen.

She planned not to say another word until they were in her room, but at the top of the landing her mother said, “Your landlady’s a nice person. She’s very easy to talk to.”

Krystal turned to face her. “Just what did you tell her?”

“Nothing about—” she paused, then lowered her voice to a near whisper “—your condition.”

Krystal heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God. My life is enough of a mess without having Leonie upset with me.”

“Oh, I see. It’s okay for you to have your mother upset with you but not Leonie?” she snapped.

“No, it’s not okay, but I’m not the one who hasn’t been returning phone calls this past week,” she shot back.

“I had my reasons.”

“And they would be…” she prodded.

“This hasn’t been easy for me, Kryssie.”

“And you think it has been for me?” She didn’t want to sound defensive, but that’s exactly how she felt. “You know, this really isn’t the best time to be having this conversation. I’m supposed to be getting ready for the shower. Why did you come down here today of all days?”

“Because I don’t want the next week to be like this past one has been. This nontalking has got to stop.”

“I’m not the one who hasn’t been talking!”

Aware that Dena could come home at any time and find the two of them arguing on the landing, Krystal pulled her mother by the arm into her room. She didn’t bother to ask her to sit down, but stood facing her, her hands on her hips.

Her mother stated the obvious. “I know you’re angry with me.”

Krystal folded her arms across her chest. “How do you expect me to feel? You wouldn’t even listen to me when I came to see you.” She hated the way her voice quivered when she spoke.

“I know and I’m sorry. It was just such a shock hearing that you’d done the one thing I’d prayed you’d never do. I thought I’d raised you to have values.”

“I do have values. I’m pregnant, not morally bankrupt, and if the only reason you came here was to tell me I’ve done a bad thing, I got the message loud and clear last week.” She wished she could express herself without getting so emotional, but she was dangerously close to tears. “A stinging palm on my cheek, not coming home, not returning my calls… I believe I know exactly what you think of me, Mom.”

“No, you don’t, and I am sorry. For everything, but especially for slapping you. You know how I feel about mothers hitting their children. I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I raised you and Carly by myself yet I never laid a hand on either of you. I was ashamed of what I did.”

Krystal could hear the regret in her voice, see the sadness in her eyes. “Then why did you do it?”

Linda shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was because I saw myself in you.”

“Mom, I’m not a teenager who got caught having sex.”

“No, you’re a grown woman who should have known better.”

It wasn’t anything Krystal hadn’t said to herself a hundred times, but she didn’t need to hear those words from her mother. “You know what, Mom? I should have known better but I didn’t. I messed up.” She threw up her hands. “There. I’ve admitted it. Are you happy?”

“No, I’m not happy.”

“Well, that makes two of us because I’m not happy, either. I’m scared. Damn scared. And it would be nice if I could talk about that with my mother instead of feeling like I’m the world’s biggest loser of a daughter.” There was no stopping the tears. They flooded her eyes, shook her shoulders and wrinkled her face. She turned away, but within a few moments she felt a pair of arms around her.

Her mother pulled her close, soothing her with the same words she’d used so often when she was a child. “There, there, now. It’s going to be all right.”

“I don’t think it is, Mom. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she sobbed into her shoulder.

“You’ll figure it out,” Linda said reassuringly. “And I’ll be there to help you.”

“Do you mean that?” Krystal asked on a hiccup, straightening.

“Of course I do.” She handed her a tissue. “That’s why I’m here.”

Krystal tried to smile but failed. She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “We shouldn’t be talking about this now. I have to get ready for the shower.”

“Then we won’t talk about it anymore,” her mother said with a maternal authority. “Now stop crying so those splotches go away.”

She glanced in the mirror and moaned. “Oh great! My eyes are all puffy.”

Her mother scrutinized her swollen lids. “Do you have any cucumbers?”

“I’m sure Leonie has some, but I don’t think I have time to sit with them on my eyes. I’ve too much to do.”

“Then we’ll have to think of something else.” Linda gave her a gentle shove. “You go get in the shower and let me get started on your to-do list. What should I do first?”

“The party favors have to be taken downstairs.” She gestured to the tray on her dresser that was covered in tiny champagne cups filled with candies. “Mom, you have to promise me you won’t mention my pregnancy to Leonie or anyone else you meet tonight.”

Linda made a sound of indignation. “Of course I’m not going to say anything.”

“Good. This is Dena’s night. I can’t seem to even mention the baby without getting weepy and if there’s one thing I don’t want to do, it’s spoil the bridal shower by being a wet rag.”

“Doesn’t anyone know about the baby?”

“Dena does, but she’s the only one. Are you planning to stay the night? You can sleep on my futon if you want,” Krystal offered.

“Why don’t I wait and see how late it is when the festivities end?”

Krystal nodded. Some of her apprehension must have shown because her mother said, “You can take that worried look off your face. I’m not going to reveal your secret. I’ve walked in your shoes and I know what you’re going through.”

“Then help me get through it. Please,” she begged, again getting weepy.

“I will, sweetie. I will,” her mother said, giving her another hug.

“And please whatever you do, don’t say anything to Leonie about the baby,” she repeated.

Linda sighed impatiently. “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t.”

Yes, she had and Krystal needed to trust her.

During the bridal shower, her mother spent most of her time in the kitchen. When it came time for the food to be served, however, Leonie insisted that she join the party and eat with everyone in the great room.

It was a long night for Krystal, not because she worried her mother would slip and mention the baby, but because of the look in her mother’s eyes as she listened to Dena talk about the wedding. It was what she’d always wanted for her daughters—the white dress, the elegant reception, the romantic honeymoon.

Later, as they cleaned up the kitchen, she knew she hadn’t imagined the wistful look in her mother’s eyes. “Bridal showers are such happy occasions, aren’t they?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Krystal agreed, rinsing plates in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher.

“It sounds as if Dena and Quinn are going to have the kind of wedding most folks only dream about.”

“I’m sure it’ll be nice.”

“She showed me a picture of her dress. It’s gorgeous.”

“I know. I was with her when she picked it out.”

“They’ve hired a live orchestra for the reception. It’s at the country club,” Linda told her, as if it were news. “It’s amazing what they’ve planned in such a short time, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for Krystal to comment but added, “Which just goes to show you that you can have a beautiful wedding on short notice.”

“I suppose you can…if you want one,” Krystal said on a weary note.

“Every girl wants one.”

Krystal didn’t say a word, but continued working in silence until her mother said, “You want one, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

“Krystal!”

Without glancing at her mother she knew the look on her face. It was the shock and disappointment that always accompanied that tone of voice. When Krystal did finally look at her she saw that she was right.

“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?”

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