Wishes and Stitches (24 page)

Chapter Forty-one

M
onday morning, Naomi hauled herself into the office. She was feeling more tired than anything else, a deep, bone-level exhaustion, but the pain had lessened now, and she thought she could pull off a half day if she took it slowly.

She sat in her office, the window propped open to let in the summer fog, and logged in to her e-mail. God, even doing that much, just remembering her password and typing it in, felt like a huge task.

Her ears strained to hear Rig's footsteps in the hallway. She didn't think he'd been in yet when she arrived, and she hadn't seen him since yesterday afternoon when he'd come by for a brief moment. He'd dropped off a container of chicken soup and a box of saltine crackers, saying something about getting back to a project, before he ran off again. He'd asked if she'd be okay without him that night.

He'd sounded like a friend when he asked. A nice guy.

As if he hadn't spent a whole night last week driving her out of her ever-loving mind with his tongue. As if he hadn't held her while she was sick, for four nights straight. As if she hadn't fallen asleep with him kissing her hair and woken to his arms tight around her. There had been times when she hadn't wanted him to touch her at all—when she was sicker than she'd ever felt before, and just the thought of someone near her made her feel even worse. Those times, he'd gone to sit on her porch, or he'd made a run to the store to bring her something else that might sit easily in her stomach, although nothing had, and when she was ready, he was there again to hold her until the next wave passed.

Naomi clicked blindly through her e-mail. Nothing important, nothing she had to address right now.

She'd have thought she wouldn't have wanted anyone to see her like that, sick, weak, at her most unattractive. But she'd wanted Rig there. He'd made things just a little better. And that had been unexpected. And good.

She'd gotten to the point where she could almost admit she'd needed him.

And then she'd gone and blown it all by being impossibly rude to Anna. No wonder he hadn't wanted to stay yesterday. Maybe he was too disgusted with her, too, like she was with herself.

Anna—would she even come into the office to work today? Was she still staying with Jake? Or somewhere else? Naomi had tried her cell phone, over and over again. But she must still be too furious to even speak to her. Naomi didn't blame her.

She'd blown it, in the worst way possible.

Naomi sighed and rubbed her eyes.

Work had to help.

Why, then, was she finding it impossible to figure out what to do next?

Across her office, on the chair next to the door, was her knitting basket. She'd brought it to work this morning even though she normally never brought it here. Someone might see it, might guess her silly secret. But today Naomi had needed to keep the shawl close. Her fingers almost ached to have the yarn in her hands. She'd made considerable headway on it while she'd been sick, once she'd been able to sit upright for any length of time without wanting to throw up.

And in the basket next to the shawl was Eliza's book
Silk Road
. Knowing it was ridiculous didn't stop her from checking to see that there was no one outside her door, and then moving to pick the book up, to close her eyes, to jab at the page.

“A mother's love can be transmitted through stitches—a sweater made by a mother is worth ten of any other kind.”

Damn. Even Eliza was out to get her.

As she lifted her eyes from the page, a voice said, “Sweetheart!”

Her mother stood in her doorway, her stepfather and Bruno behind her. Bruno's eyes were wide and he mouthed a silent “I'm sorry” at her over their heads.

Her mother was wearing an obviously expensive royal blue silk shirt and black pants that hung perfectly, the cuff breaking at just the right point over her patent-leather black pumps that probably cost more than all of Naomi's shoes put together. Her eye makeup was flawless, deep plums and soft pinks, the skin around the corners dewy fresh. She'd probably had a little something done.

“Hi, Mom.” Oh, God, now what? Maybelle was going in for the hug, though, so Naomi met her in the middle. Her mother's arms didn't feel familiar. It was like suddenly hugging a teller at the bank—foreign and much too intimate.

“Hey there, kid,” said Buzz. He was in a gray suit that looked a little tight, and his hair was more silvery than the last time she'd seen him. His smile looked genuine, and Naomi wondered if she was expected to hug him, too, but instead he held out his hand. Naomi shook it gratefully.

“Wow, Mom.” Naomi leaned on the wall. Standing unsupported was too tiring. “I have to admit I'm surprised to see you.”

“Well, Anna finally left us a message saying she was in this one-horse town,” Maybelle said. “I can't believe it, the one time I don't pick up the phone. Buzz knows I
always
pick up the phone, just on the off chance it's her. It never is. But that time, of
course
it was.”

Buzz said, “Your mom just wanted to see her. So we thought we'd make a quick road trip.”

Naomi bit the inside of her lip. They hadn't come to see her in the year she'd lived in Cypress Hollow. Then she managed, “It's nice to see you both.”

Maybelle said, “Where's Anna? We stopped by your house, but it didn't seem like anyone was there.”

“I'm not sure—”

“I haven't seen her in almost ten months, did you know that? That's too long for a mother to go.”

Naomi just said, “Of course. I'll track her down and we'll have dinner tonight.”

“Sweetheart, you're so pale. Maybe we'll all go for a makeover later? And where, for dinner?”

At that moment Rig came out of his office—Naomi hadn't even known he was in yet. How long had he been there? What had he heard?

“Naomi, are we still on for barbecuing at Jake's tonight?”

Naomi's mouth dropped open as her mother stepped forward with a hundred-watt smile. “Maybelle Maubert, Naomi's mother. My husband, Buzz. And you are?”

“Dr. Rig Keller, newest staff member.” He gave Maybelle a knee-numbingly smoldering grin. “You should both come to dinner, too. I know my brother Jake would be glad to meet you, and Anna will be there.”

“You know Anna?” Maybelle brightened ten more watts. “Are you dating her? Wouldn't that be wonderful?” She looked over her shoulder at Buzz. “If she was dating a doctor?”

“Mom, they're not dating.” Naomi felt like she was losing any small hold she'd had on the conversation.

“No. I'm not dating Anna. I'm dating Naomi,” said Rig.

“Oh, holy Helen,” said Naomi. She moved past her mother into the back office where three chairs sat next to the lab work area. “I have to sit down.”

“You're dating
him
?” Maybelle sounded thrilled. In a stage whisper, she said to Buzz, “She's dating a
doctor
.”

“Mom!” Naomi rubbed her face. “I
am
a doctor.”

Maybelle blinked. “I know, darling. Of course.”

Had Rig really just told her mother they were dating? When in reality all they'd done was . . . Well, okay. They'd done a lot. Dating. Huh.

And God help her, she wanted so much more. She kept her hands on her cheeks, cooling them, not daring to look the only place she wanted to: at Rig.

Smoothly placing himself in the conversation again, Rig said, “So, seven o'clock? At Jake's?”

Maybelle snapped to attention. “What does your brother do?”

“He's a captain with the local fire department. Very important to the town. Anna and he are close,” said Rig.

“A fire captain,” said Maybelle. “Oh, yes. We'd
love
to meet him.”

Rig nodded. “I'll go print out driving directions. Where are you staying?”

A small part of Naomi withered in despair as her mother turned to look at her.

“At Naomi's, of course,” Maybelle said. “Where else?”

Chapter Forty-two

I
n Jake's backyard, Rig pulled all the chairs Milo had used to make a fort back to the picnic table, and he realized that the tingling he was feeling in the tips of his fingers wasn't the first indication of poor circulation. It was just good old-fashioned excitement. Maybe—no, probably—she'd seen what he'd done with her health center while she was sick.

God, if she didn't like it . . .

But what wasn't to like? He'd worked his ass off in there for the last two days, and while he wished he'd been around to see her open the door and discover what he'd done, he couldn't wait to hear what she thought.

And maybe tonight they'd get to talk about Jake and Anna. Sure, Anna had been sleeping in the spare room, and Jake said he was in his own. And Rig didn't have any reason not to believe Jake, but there was something in his eyes when he looked at Anna that made Rig hold his breath.

He wanted Jake to be happy. To date. To have a good time. He wanted those things for both his brother and his father.

But Jake was stressed out just trying to take care of himself and Milo. If a baby was thrown into the mix? Rig couldn't imagine Jake changing diapers while trying to keep Milo from climbing to the top of anything tall nearby, while trying to balance being in love with a real woman and a dead woman at the same time.

And Dad, sneaking around with Shirley? Why hadn't he told them? Shirley was awesome. She was great. Strong. Vibrant. A good landlord.

Why did Rig feel worried, then? How had Naomi handled it when her mother remarried Buzz? Had she been resentful? Her father had still been alive, though. Maybe it made it somewhat easier, although he wasn't sure.

Rig's frown turned into a half grin thinking of how nonplussed Naomi had been when he'd said they were dating. It had made him want to grab her hand, kiss her right there in front of her mother. He hadn't—he'd restrained himself. But it had been difficult.

Milo raced past his legs. Did he ever just walk? He seemed to have wings on his heels.

“Uncle Rig, watch!”

But Milo had pulled open the screen door and was inside the house before Rig could figure out what he was supposed to be looking at.

Jake brought out a store-bought potato salad and put it on the picnic table. “I still can't believe you invited a whole party here without asking me.”

“This from the man who knows everyone? You love a party.”

Jake groaned. “Do not. I don't even like people. You're the one with the dang people-loving gene.”

Rig laughed. “You're the firefighter. You're the one who goes in and saves people every day.”

“Yeah, well, you're the doctor. You—”

“Just give them bad news or good news.” He thought of news he'd delivered today—a possible diagnosis of multiple myeloma for a mother of three girls, very bad news. And an hour later, he'd been able to tell Pete Wegman the news that his biopsy had come back benign. “And I can't really do anything about the results. They're just the way they are. At least you sometimes get to do CPR.”

“Well, thanks, Dr. Feelgood.”

“Anyway, you ready to be introduced to your girlfriend's parents?” Rig was pushing, but he wanted to.

“I'm a little nervous, I guess.”

Even though it confirmed that his guess was right, Rig felt surprise. “She's been here how many nights now? Five? And you've been hanging out with her for what, two weeks? Maybe?”

Jake turned, clutching a bouquet of forks. “Yeah?”

“You're way into her.”

Jake shrugged in acknowledgment. “So what if I am?”

“So, just be careful.” Rig felt the lid of the grill. It was heating up fast.

“Whatever, dude. I'm fine.” Jake stalked back into the kitchen. A scream from Milo came floating out the living room window, followed by hysterical laughter.

A second later, Milo flew out of the house, raced around Rig's legs three times, and then ran back in the house, screaming something about Superman and frosting that Rig didn't quite catch.

The screen door banged again, and Rig looked up. Anna wobbled her way carefully down the two steps to the porch, smiling.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself.”

“You did okay today?”

She lowered herself into a wicker chair. “Yeah. I like the papers. It's quiet over there.” This morning Bruno had sent her over to the storage place to start dealing with Pederson's unarchived papers. It was safer there, anyway—they hadn't had to worry about the sisters running into each other at work.

Now they'd run into each other here. In front of their mother. Rig hoped this wasn't the worst idea he'd ever had.

Anna laughed. “I probably shouldn't tell you, but instead of lunch I had a nap in one of the aisles. Nice and cool. I just couldn't keep my eyes open.”

“And we're paying you for that?” But Rig smiled back at her. He didn't mind. She deserved a break, and damn if she hadn't done a shitload over the weekend, unpaid, helping him with the center. “I hope you ate lunch, too.”

“Of course I did. I'm not into missing meals right now.” She rubbed her belly. “This little gal won't let me.”

“You know it's a girl, huh?”

“Yep.”

“We could tell you for sure, you know. Anytime. Your sister could do it, give you the ultrasound. We have the technology.” He smiled to soften his words.

But Anna shook her head firmly. “No. I got the only ultrasound I needed in the city already. I didn't want them to tell me, and I don't want to know now.”

“Okay. Fine by me.”

“Hey, who's coming to this shindig, anyway? Jake wouldn't tell me, just said there would be more people coming.”

Oh, crap.

Anna caught his look. “Naomi. I
knew
it. Look, we'll work it out when we feel like we're ready to work it out. I still don't want to see her.”

“Um,” started Rig. “Well . . .”

The screen door opened again. First came Naomi. She was dressed simply, as usual, in a white linen blouse and jeans that fit her better than jeans should be allowed to fit. That curve of her hip just begged for his hand to . . . Oh, that way lay madness. He couldn't think about that right now.

Just behind her, looking ecstatic, came Naomi's mother, Maybelle, followed by Buzz and Frank. Maybelle didn't look anything like Naomi, although he could see the resemblance between the blond Anna and Maybelle's strawberry-tinted hair.

Anna's eyes widened as she saw her mother, in exactly the same way Naomi's did when she was surprised. “Oh, help,” she whispered weakly.

“Gang's all here!” shouted Frank, who probably had no idea who the company was. “Isn't this
great
?”

Maybelle looked at Anna. Her mouth formed a perfect O. Whoops. Looked like Mama didn't know her baby was knocked up. Maybelle coughed, a strangled, choking sound, and looked at Naomi.

Then she clutched Buzz, said something inaudible to him, and fainted dead away.