“I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry, Kari.” Jada’s bottom lip trembled.
“You’re gonna be sorry if you upset my little niece,” I winked, feeling my heartbeat settle into a natural rhythm.
She sniffled and rubbed her belly.
“Now let’s find baby Jane an “I Love My Aunt” bib. She’s gonna be here before we know it!” I turned towards the shelves, trying to get our attention focused on the present again. I said what needed to be said and I didn’t want to dwell on it.
“Jane?” she laughed, coming up behind me. “Really?”
“Yeah. Jada and Cane. Jane. I like it.”
“Please don’t mention that to Cane. I have a feeling he’d like it, too.”
We walked around the store, pretending to look at things. My mind was elsewhere and I could tell Jada’s was, too. Finally, she said, “Have you talked to Max about this?”
I bit my lip. “I did. Not because I wanted to, but I had to.”
“There’s a story there. Go on.”
“Samantha brought Blaine to dinner.”
“She what!” Jada exclaimed, her mouth dropping to the floor. “Why would she do that? I might be pregnant but I’ll call Heather and Mandi and they’ll take care of business!”
I snorted. “She didn’t know.”
Jada stood with her hand on her hip. “What did Max say?”
I thought back to the look on his face when he told me it didn’t matter. “He was a little angry.”
Her eyes widened. “Max was angry? I can’t believe that.”
“No, not angry about that. He was more hurt, I guess, that I didn’t tell him sooner. That I thought he would walk away from me if he knew.”
She grinned. “That’s the Max I love.”
“Me, too.”
KARI
I listened to the voice of Keith Whitley croon on the country music station that Fern was playing as she and I cleaned up dinner. It was smooth and easy, just as the evening had been with Max’s parents. Max had tried to have lunch with Brielle, but she was too busy to meet him. He was irritated about that, but his mother had called and asked us to come to dinner.
Max and John grilled outside while his mother and I made the side dishes in the kitchen. She entertained me with stories of Max as a little boy, everything from his first home-run in baseball to getting bucked off a horse on his grandparent’s ranch when he was a teenager. She was undeniably proud of him and I welcomed the ease in which she shared her memories of the man we both loved.
As the last bubble went down the drain, I dried my hands on a towel. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Quinn.”
“Honey, it’s Fern. For heaven’s sake.” She stacked the containers with left-overs into two piles. “This one is for you and Max to take home. It can be your midnight snack.”
“Thank you.”
She took a breath. “I wanted to speak with you alone.” She wiped her hands on her apron and then undid the ties and tossed it on the counter. She looked at me, her face somber. “This may be entirely out of line and none of my concern, but by golly it’s keepin’ me up at night not to say something, so I’m gonna speak my piece and let the good Lord have it.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“Max told me about you not being able to have children.” She watched me for a second and took a breath. “He said you were nervous as to what I’d think. And before I go on, I just want you to know that the fact that you care what his mama has to say means the world to this old woman. Okay? It warms my heart.” She placed one hand over her chest.
“Mrs. Quinn, Fern, I mean, I—” I rushed before she waved me off.
“There’s a lot of things a mother wants for her child. Sure, children are one of them. Don’t think for a second I don’t want to be a grandma. But the one thing a mama wants more than anything is for her child to be happy. I always told my kids I didn’t care what they did with their life as long as they gave it to the good Lord and they were happy doin’ it. Max loved the janitor at his school when he was a little boy. Thought the man could fix anything and he wanted to be a janitor, too. I told him if that made him happy to be the best janitor he could be.”
I laughed nervously, not sure where this conversation was going.
“What I’m gettin’ at, Kari, is that you put a smile on Max’s face. I see the way he looks at you and that’s the way John looks at me when he thinks I’m not lookin.’ My boy loves you and that, at the end of the day, is all I care about.”
I widened my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over as she cleared her throat.
“Now, don’t get me wrong,” she laughed, pointing her finger at me, “you hurt that son of mine and I’ll come at you with my rolling pin.”