Within Arm's Reach - By Ann Napolitano Page 0,136

his boots and place them on the tile floor.

“Sweet Jesus,” Meggy says. “That baby looks ready to come out.”

“I think we’re getting there,” Gracie says. Her voice is shy. She has been mostly alone or with me for the latter part of her pregnancy. I’m sure she is startled by the attention, and is unsure whether it’s friendly. I want to tell her that I’ve been charting the swing of moods and that I think the combination of Gram’s speech and her appearance have softened all of the McLaughlin women to the core. For the moment, anyway.

Mom sounds practically giddy when she says, “I read about a few shower games in a magazine, and we’re all going to start a pool on when we think the baby will be born. Hold on one minute, and I’ll go get the pieces of paper where you each have to write your guess for the date, time of birth, sex, and weight.”

“How much is the pot?” Meggy asks, but my mother is already gone.

“Grayson,” Theresa says in a polite, let’s-dig-for-dirt voice, “are you Gracie’s birth coach?”

“Yes,” Grayson says.

“Um, no,” Gracie says quickly.

“It’s probably the birth father,” Angel says in a low voice to Meggy, but everyone hears her.

“Lila is the coach,” Gracie says with an apologetic look at the man standing next to her. “I asked Lila weeks ago.”

“Really?” Mom is back in the room, her hands filled with pieces of white paper.

“Isn’t that lovely?” Gram says.

Confusion clouds Grayson’s face. He turns to Gracie. “I should be the coach. I can’t be your husband waiting outside in the hall with the rest of your family. I need to be in the delivery room.”

The air leaves the room then, as effectively as if Grayson had used the last bit up. My aunts gape like fish. My mother says, “Your husband?”

“You’re marrying him?” I say. I can’t believe what I’ve heard. I can’t believe I’m finding out something this big at the same time as Mom.

Meggy says, “Isn’t this interesting.”

Mary gives her second laugh of the afternoon, then claps her hands over her mouth.

Gram says, “Gracie?”

Gracie gives Grayson a look that makes it clear that the timing of the announcement did not go according to plan. At least not according to her plan.

“We’re getting married,” Gracie says in a reluctant voice.

“On Thursday, at the Hackensack courthouse. You’re all invited.” Grayson is as pale as Gracie now. He’s not used to surprises. He likes to be prepared. I wonder how well he is going to fare making a life with my sister.

My father appears at the doorway to the living room then, clearly having heard this last part. His appearance is so sudden that he frightens Nurse Ballen, who visibly flinches.

My mother looks as if she’s afraid she’s going to drop the pieces of paper. She grips them so hard, I see her knuckles turn white. But she is the first to speak. Her voice tilts toward excited and gets faster as she goes along. “You’re going to be married,” she says. “What a surprise! Grayson, you’re the editor of the Bergen Record, aren’t you? Louis, you knew Grayson’s father. Remember?”

“Yes,” my father says. “I remember.” He looks stunned in a bad way, as if he has now had one more shock than he could take.

“Why are you doing this?” Gram asks, her searching eyes turned on Gracie. “Are you in love?”

The room is quiet, but still I am sure that I am the only one who hears another vehicle pull to a stop out front. I edge around the group, hoping to escape without my mother’s notice, without anyone’s notice. I hear my sister, caught by Gram the same way I was earlier, choose to lie as well. “Yes,” she says. “Well . . . why else would we be getting married?”

“You don’t have to do this. I told you I would take care of everything.” Gram’s voice sounds weak and is lost beneath the noise of my aunts, who have finally found their tongues.

“You were such a quiet girl growing up,” Meggy says. “Who knew you would provide this family with such excitement. A baby and a wedding to someone other than the baby’s father, all in one year. Well done.”

Theresa nods, seeming to agree in all seriousness with Meggy’s sarcastic comments.

“Oh Gracie, you should let your husband be your birth coach.” There are tears in Angel’s eyes. I wonder if they are from sadness, because she has now lost any chance of raising

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