*
Cal was watching the summer pass by the size of Maggie’s belly. By the end of July she was over seven months along with a little girl who was due to arrive in October. She’d taken to wearing constriction stockings while driving and working to keep the swelling in her ankles manageable. “Cankles,” she called them because there was no real definition between her calves and her ankles. Her back was bothering her and she was starting to have some heartburn. But aside from the generally accepted discomforts of pregnancy, she was feeling fine and in excellent humor. Except for the house and her mother.
Those two things were driving her crazy. Apparently the master bath was way more important to her than Cal ever supposed. The tub that had been installed was way too big, the base built around the tub was huge, leaving the space in the master bath small enough that they might have to shimmy around each other en route to the enormous walk-in closet or the shower.
“We’ll be crowded,” she said.
“Much too large,” Maggie’s mother, Phoebe, agreed.
“It’ll be fine,” Cal said. “When it’s done, you’ll love it.”
“It’s a fucking monument,” Maggie said. “I want it out!”
“Who are you and what have you done to my wife?” Cal asked.
And that was nothing to the fits the bathroom countertop was giving her. Or the quartz he’d chosen for the hearth. “What were you going for here?” she asked him. “Brutally ugly or just nauseating?”
“Hey, I tried, all right? I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Stop trying and ask me!”
Because of these developments, Sully was not getting much of Maggie’s help around the Crossing. Maggie was spending all her days off working with Phoebe and Phoebe’s decorator trying to either improve or replace some of Cal’s installations.
“I might be a little cranky,” Maggie admitted. “I want a whole house when the baby comes. And it’s my own fault—I didn’t get involved enough. Plus, I want this baby to have a name when she gets here.”
“How about Portland,” he said, joking.
“I told you, no geographical references.”
“What’s wrong with Aurora?”
“No Disney princesses! You have too much history there.”
“Not with Aurora,” he said with a grin. Cal had had a brief and enjoyable career with the big theme park where he got involved with one of the princesses, off duty of course, but was fired because of it. He still maintained it was both unfair and quite pleasing. “I should have sued them. You can’t fire people for engaging in adult activities on their own time.”
“We’ve been married almost a year,” Maggie said. “Isn’t it time you at least tell me which princess?”
“Never. If I told you, you’d never get that image out of your head. Too risky.”
Cal thought he had the perfect marriage but had lately stumbled on a few minor flaws while turning the barn into a house with Maggie. “I hate chaos,” he said. “I was getting along fine with Tom.”
“I work in regular chaos,” Maggie reminded him. “I’m a born crisis manager.”
“Can you manage Phoebe, then? She drives me crazy.”
“I tried to warn you,” Maggie said. “But, like it or not, she’s getting things done. Things I hate doing—like shopping.”
It was true. Phoebe, with her decorator Janet, gathered up things from dishes to rugs to paintings and brought them to the barn for Maggie’s approval. And if Cal was extremely diplomatic, he could weigh in. Not only did Cal find Phoebe irritating, the way Janet placated her and trotted after her like a faithful pup made him want to shake her.
Then Jaycee Kent, the OB and Maggie’s best friend said, “I think you might be doing too much, your blood pressure is up a little and I don’t want it to get higher. You need longer rest periods, shorter surgeries—you can’t stand in an operating room for nine hours anymore. You have to lie down and put your feet up a few times a day, cut out the salt, no heavy lifting and lower the stress.”
Cal agreed, Maggie had too much on her plate. She was fretting over the house, helping Sully every free minute she had and working in Denver three days a week.
Maggie agreed to cut her work hours slightly—she was seeing patients in the office more often, passing off the more complicated surgeries to one of her partners and she was no longer taking emergency room on call.
Cal talked to his sister. “You’ve been helping Sully a lot at the Crossing. I don’t want to overload you, too, but is there any more time in your schedule so you can spell Maggie out there? We can work out pay, of course. Sully doesn’t like to admit it but he needs help, especially in summer when he’s full of campers. He’s no kid.”
“Really, he does very well, but it’s been so busy,” Sierra said. “I can cut back on my hours at the diner. The high school girls are begging for more time. Let me see what I can do.”
“Just be sure you have plenty of time for your own life,” he said. “You have important stuff, too.”
Sierra laughed. “I work with friendly people a few hours a week, the Crossing is not only outdoor work and exercise, it’s fun and Sully is my new best friend. He looks out for me. Everyone looks out for me. I even have a nice boyfriend. Cal, my life has never been this good.”
“Really?” he asked, shocked and yet wondering why he was shocked.
“More time at the Crossing for the summer won’t hurt me even a little bit. And I think Molly would love it.”
“And Connie would like it,” Cal said.
“Connie is a busy guy. He has way more commitments than I have. He works a couple of twenty-four-hour shifts a week, goes out on search and rescue detail, trains, and then whenever there are fund-raisers or kids at the firehouse, he’s first in line. I like that about him.”
“Right now all I want to do is take a little pressure off Maggie so she doesn’t have to be such a bitch.”
“Cal!” she scolded in a laugh.
“Well, she’s very pregnant, her blood pressure is up, her mother is hanging around too much and I can tell she’s afraid of the house—afraid if she doesn’t throw herself into it and make good choices it’s going to look like Sully’s place.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to spend much to get that look,” Sierra said.
“Not that I have a problem with that,” Cal added, smiling. “So. You and Connie? Is this the real deal?”
“You know I can’t answer that,” she said. “For both of us, for right now, it’s real enough. He’s still coming off a bad relationship and I’m coming off something...something worse. By the way...”
“I haven’t heard anything yet. Okay, I haven’t pushed on it too hard. Want me to push harder?”