the one who wanted to break up.”
Charlie starts tapping something on my phone. I try to snatch it back.
“What are you saying?” My shrill voice echoes through the kitchen, but no one gives me more than a glance.
“I’m telling him what you should have days ago.”
By the time Charlie gives me back the phone, I know his message has been sent. And when I read over what he wrote, my cheeks get pink with embarrassment. Charlie was very descriptive about what Griffin should stick into certain body parts.
I’m staring at my phone when Nonna pushes me toward the hall. “Go get dressed. You’re riding to the shop with me, since Olivia has some stuff to do for her mother this morning. We’ll stop at the store and see if we can find you something to wear tonight.”
Most of the family scatters from the kitchen once they’re done eating. Charlie stops at the back door and hollers, “Be ready at six thirty!”
I’m still staring at my phone by the time I enter the guest room, but not surprisingly, Griffin doesn’t respond.
Nonna and I are on the way to the store when Mom calls.
“Hey, sweetie, how are you? I guess you survived your date last night?” she says. I can tell she’s trying to be upbeat, but she sounds tired. And worried.
“It was horrible, but what else would you expect from Aunt Patrice? How’s Margot?”
Mom’s quiet on the other end. “She’s okay. Hanging in there.”
I try to speak, but it feels like something is lodged in my throat. Finally, I ask, “What’s going on? What are you not telling me?”
“Well, her blood pressure is a little higher than the doctor would like, and then there’s the swelling. She’s having a few contractions, but they’re giving her some magnesium, so that should take care of that. No need to worry! We’re all keeping a close eye on her!”
Mom sounds overly enthusiastic, which makes me doubt her. “Is she going to be okay? Is the baby?”
“Yes, honey. They’re both okay. Are you? If I need to, I can put an end to this blind date thing. I hate to think you’re up there miserable.”
Gah, the last thing I want any of them to worry about is me. “No. It’s fine. It’s a good distraction. I keep telling myself this is going to make for a good story later.”
Mom lets out a soft laugh. “Well, we love you. Very much.”
“Love y’all, too. Tell Margot to text me if she feels up to it.”
“I will, sweetie. She’s sleeping right now, but I know she loves hearing what’s going on with you. She got the biggest kick out of that picture Charlie sent her last night.”
At least there was some good that came out of that.
We say our good-byes, and I hang up just as we pull into the parking lot.
“How bad is it?” Nonna asks.
“Huh?” I ask, scrunching up my forehead.
“Margot and the baby. Your mother acts like I didn’t have eight children of my own. She thinks I’m too fragile to know what’s happening down there.”
I sigh. “Her blood pressure is too high and the swelling is bad. Some contractions, but they’re trying to stop them.”
Nonna nods. “Well, good. It’s amazing what those doctors can do! I know everything will be just fine!”
And now I see where Mom gets her fake enthusiasm.
We wander through the store and head to the craft section, debating what we need to make the tackiest sweater ever. Nonna found an old red sweater in her drawer this morning, so all we need are decorations.
She holds up a package of silver tinsel. “How about this? We could hot-glue it down the arms of the sweater.”
Oh God.
She sees the look on my face. “Sophie, the key here is tacky.”
I nod and she starts throwing everything from bows to colored pipe cleaners to fuzzy cotton ball–looking things into the basket. She’s got a twinkle in her eye. “When I’m done with this sweater, there’s no way you won’t win.”
I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
We head to the checkout when the basket is almost full, but she stops suddenly. “Oh! I almost forgot. Gigi needs a few things.” She pulls out a piece of paper from her purse and I recognize the small scrawl of my great-grandmother. “Could you go grab these? I’ll go ahead and get in line. We’ll drop them off at the nursing home on the way to the shop.”
I read the