Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers #5) - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,49
to do was give him up. “The only thing Danny did was, you know…” She pointed down and made her fingers explode. “Ovaries have detonated.”
“Oh, Evie.”
“Hey, you sound like him now.” She tipped her head in the direction of her grandfather’s room. “‘The family tree is dying, Evangeline,’” she said, imitating his gruff voice.
“And that makes you feel…”
“Like I’m disappointing him,” Evie confessed, then slowed as they stood outside one of the guest rooms. “And myself,” she added softly, grateful to be able to confide in a trusted friend.
“I know you wanted a baby, Evie,” Molly whispered. “I remember when you went the academic route because you thought it would be better for your schedule and the possibility of getting pregnant.”
“But donor insemination was a bust, as you know. Not to mention I’m forty now.”
“Not too old, and you said you passed all the tests.”
“With flying…eggs.”
“Anyway, you could still adopt,” Molly said.
“It’s more complicated and scarier than adopting a pet.” She stroked Danny’s cheek and leaned in. “And to make matters worse, my grandfather actually suggested to Declan that he…” She lifted her brows. “Help me.”
Molly’s eyes popped. “Like…impregnate you?”
“Like DI, only no pesky pipette. I assume.”
“Evie, that’s…extreme.”
“No kidding. I actually think your grandmother suggested it to him when she was here.”
Molly shook her head. “Doubtful. We talked about her conversation with him on the way over here, and she didn’t mention a baby. She said they talked about the things that usually come before that, like man-on-one-knee followed by something old, something new…”
“Well, Granddaddy heard something that cries and eventually goes to college. At least that’s what he mentioned to Declan.”
Molly searched her face, thinking and, Evie could tell, considering the possibility. Didn’t anyone realize that wasn’t something to casually do?
“It’s…not the worst idea in the world,” Molly said, almost on cue.
“Molly!”
“What? You two are great friends.”
“We were.”
“He’s back in this house,” she said. “That’s huge, and you know it.”
“I do.”
“And you’re mature adults who could probably work something out. It wouldn’t be like, you know, medical. It would be…”
Sexual. Evie felt her color rise.
“Fun,” Molly finished with a laugh. “Of course, maybe you shouldn’t take advice from a woman who got pregnant in the back of her mother’s dog van at nineteen.”
“Is that why Trace bought the van?” She almost choked, but then a burst of laughter rang out from the museum room.
“The grannies and Pru.” Molly rolled her eyes. “I swear they’re like a clique of eighth-grade girls.”
“Come on, let’s go see what’s so funny.” She gave Molly’s arm a squeeze. “And thanks for the help up there.”
Molly winked. “Anytime. And were you serious about seeing patients this week?”
“Absolutely.”
They headed into the museum room, and all the smiles immediately disappeared, and Evie felt very much like she had walked in on…something.
“This room is so stinking cool,” Pru said suddenly. “So much history!”
“Did you see the new necklace?” Evie asked. “There are pictures of Evangeline and Gloriana Bushrod as babies.”
They spent the next few minutes looking at some treasures, while Danny got comfy in Evie’s arms again. She told them some of the stories and recited the litany of generations of Gloriana House, a tumult of family pride spilling over as she shared the names and some life highlights with the same enthusiasm Granddaddy did when he told the stories.
“Your family is like something out of a Jane Austen novel,” Pru cooed.
“They were, once.” Evie rested her cheek on the baby’s head, letting her eyes close as more emotion caught hold of her throat.
“I’d love to hear someone play that piano,” Yiayia said, pointing to the Krakauer.
“I’m sure it’s wretchedly out of tune,” Evie said.
“So?” Yiayia lifted a shoulder. “You should still play.”
“But that would mean I’d have to put down this sleeping baby.” She stroked his head and smiled at Molly. “I’m so…” Jealous. “Happy for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, holding up her phone. “I emailed the form to Vestal Valley and…” She used the phone to point to Evie’s chest. “And I’m afraid he got to you.”
She looked down at her T-shirt, smiling when she saw the two-inch-diameter wet spot from baby drool. “Oh, he got to me all right,” she said, finally giving him up to his mother. “And worth every minute.”
After a bit, she walked them to the door, and everyone exchanged hugs goodbye. As they started down the walk, Pru turned back.
“Bye, Aunt Evie!” she called.
“Goodbye, Pru. Come back soon.”
“Oh, we will. If we do, can you play that cool piano?”