Kids jumped onto the merry-go-round, set it spinning.
“Okay, kids,” said Father O’Houlihan in his lilting Irish brogue, “there are eggs hidden all ’round here. Go!”
The kids shrieked and set off in search of the hidden eggs.
Lauren went to little Dani, who stood close to Mira.
“Come on,” Lauren said, attempting to kneel and then giving up. “I’ll help you look.” She took Dani’s hand and off they went.
Within moments the whole DeSaria clan was standing together. They were like geese, Angie thought. Somehow they just floated into formation. Their conversations sounded vaguely birdlike, too, with so many voices going at once.
Angie cleared her throat.
Conlan squeezed her hand, threw her a go-for-it smile.
“I have two things to say,” she said. When no one listened, she said it louder.
Mama whopped Uncle Francis in the back of the head. “Be quiet. Our Angela has something to say.”
“Someday, Maria, I’m going to hit you back,” Uncle Francis said, rubbing the back of his head.
Mira and Livvy moved in closer.
Angie showed off her ring.
The screams probably shattered windows all through town. The family surged forward like a wave, crashing around Angie and Conlan.
Everyone was talking at once, congratulating them and asking questions and saying they knew it all along.
When the wave receded and they were all on the shore again, it was Mama who remembered.
“What is the second thing?” she asked.
“What?” Angie said, edging toward Conlan.
“You said you had two things to tell us. What is next? You are quitting the restaurant?”
“No. Actually I think—we think—we’re going to stay in West End this time. Conlan has a contract to write a book, and he’s been given a weekly column for the newspaper. He can work from here.”
“That’s great news,” Mama said.
Livvy moved closer. “So what gives, baby sis?”
Angie reached back for Conlan’s hand. She held on to him, let him be her port. “We’re going to adopt Lauren’s baby.”
This time the silence could have broken glass. Angie felt it clear to her bones.
“This is not a good idea,” Mama said at last.
Angie clung to Conlan’s hand. “What am I supposed to do? Say no? Watch her give the baby to strangers?”
As one, the family turned, looked at Lauren. The teenager was by the swing set, down on her hands and knees, searching through the tall grass. Little Dani was beside her, giggling and pointing. From this distance, they looked like any young mother and her daughter.
“Lauren has a big heart,” Mama said, “and a sad past. It is a dangerous combination, Angela.”
Livvy stepped forward. “Can you handle it?” she asked gently. The only question that really mattered. “If she changes her mind?”
Angie looked up at Conlan, who smiled down at her and nodded. Together, that look said, we can handle anything.
“Yes,” she said, finding a pretty decent smile. “I can handle it. The hardest part will be saying good-bye to Lauren.”
“But you’ll have a baby,” Mira said.
“Maybe,” Mama said. “The other time—”
“This is not up for a vote,” Conlan said, and that shut them up.
They all looked at Lauren again, then, one by one, they started talking about other, more ordinary things.
Angie released her breath. The storm had been faced and survived. Oh, there would be gossip through the family, burning up the phone lines as each of them dissected this news and formed an opinion. Those opinions would be tossed back and forth on a daily basis. Some of it would filter down to Angie. Most of it would not.
It didn’t matter. There was nothing they could come up with that Angie hadn’t worried about and foreseen.
Some things in life, though, couldn’t be gone in search of. They simply had to be waited for. Like the weather. You could look on the horizon and see a bank of black storm clouds. That didn’t guarantee rain tomorrow. It might just as easily dawn bright and clear.
There was no damn way to tell.
All you could do was keep moving and live your life.
Cars had been arriving steadily for the last hour. Every few minutes or so the front door cracked open and new guests streamed into the house, carrying boxes of food and presents wrapped in pretty paper. There were men in the living room, watching sports on the aged television and drinking beer. At least a dozen children were clustered in the den; some were playing board games, others had Barbies dancing with Kens, and still others played Nintendo.