Remind me to tell Gabe and Celeste they need to consider building a footbridge for expectant mothers that crosses Angel Creek a little farther down from the hot springs.”
“Smell got to you?” Sage asked.
“Something got to me. I ordinarily have morning sickness in the afternoon, but I got one whiff of sulfur and my stomach started spinning like Bear’s mirror ball in the gym last night.”
Sarah shook her head. “I remember morning sickness. It’s too bad God didn’t give it to us as a precursor to sex instead of the result of it. There would be a lot fewer unplanned pregnancies that way.”
Sage and Sarah shared a look, then Sage asked, “So, are you ready to talk about it this morning?”
“Being nauseated?”
“Wedding plans.”
“Not really. No.” Gabe had taken his leave after their dance last night, and the moment he left the gym her friends had swooped down like hawks on a field mouse for details. Pleading exhaustion, Nic had shared only the fact that they had agreed to marry. “We’re here to decorate Celeste’s office for her birthday, and besides, I have no wedding plans to discuss.”
“You are no fun, Nic Sullivan,” Sarah groused.
“Deal with it. Now, we’d best get to work if we’re going to have everything ready before Celeste comes home from the beauty shop.” She opened the door, stepped into the kitchen, and set her bags down on the kitchen table. “I have streamers and balloons, fishing line, and some other sundry stuff. Could have done better if Celeste hadn’t been so stingy with information.”
Last night Celeste had mentioned in passing to Sage that today was her birthday, though she neglected to reveal just which birthday it was. Once Sarah learned the news, she’d decided the time had arrived to welcome Celeste into a tradition she and Nic had shared for years, one they’d introduced Sage to after she’d moved to Eternity Springs.
“I brought the bananas,” Sarah said.
“I have markers and paints—and a list of things I want to write. We don’t have time to be, uh, as creative as we were for your birthday, Sarah.”
“Besides, I can’t drink alcohol,” Nic added.
Sarah smirked. “I knew my bananagram had been done in an alcohol daze. Some of those messages were X-rated.”
The silly yet enjoyable tradition between the adult girlfriends had grown out of slumber-party activity for Lori and her friends when they were seven years old. “Bananagrams” back then were messages like “Happy Birthday” or “Congratulations” written in black marker on whole bananas. The bananas were then hung from trees in the honoree’s yard with fishing line—usually in the middle of the night.
In the past ten years, Nic and Sarah had added their own special touch to the tradition. When Sage moved to town, she’d been happy to join in the festivities.
“I’m going to write something about her motorcycle,” Nic said. “Break out the pens, Sage.” To Sarah, she added, “Did you bring any rotten fruit?”
“Absolutely. What’s a bananagram without at least one ‘It’s rotten to be so old’ message?”
“Celeste is gonna love this.” Nic met her friends’ gazes and added, “It’s just what I needed. Thank you.”
They spread their supplies on the table and went to work. They had a lot to do. Not knowing Celeste’s age, Sarah had decided on an even hundred for their bananagram. They’d be hard pressed to have everything ready by the time Celeste returned home.
So intent was Nic on the task at hand that it wasn’t until she heard a man—Gabe—spit out a particularly foul curse that she realized they were no longer alone. He was in the hallway beyond the kitchen. Talking to someone, probably on the hall phone. Noting the worry in Sage’s and Sarah’s expressions, Nic set a banana marked with “Happy B’day Motorcycle Mama” aside and tuned into what Gabe was saying.
“No, I don’t want to marry her. A baby is certainly the last thing I wanted.”
Nic sucked in an audible breath.
“You matter to me, Pam. You and Will and Nathan. You made in-law jokes a joke. You became not just Jen’s sister but my sister, too.”
Sister. He was talking to his sister-in-law. Telling her about the wedding. The baby. She rose to her feet, then closed her eyes and an emptiness yawned inside her.
“Yeah, well, you’re right. I was stupid. I wasn’t thinking. It was sex. Just sex.”
Nic’s nausea came roaring back. Sarah put her hand on Nic’s shoulder.
“I know, dammit. I know! I was an idiot, all right? But what other choice do I have