Father Knows Best (11 page)

I sighed. Subtlety was totally lost on Jennifer. “His name is Ismet, not ‘that Bosnian guy,’ and yeah, I was only kidding. But you’re more than welcome to come in the shop. Everyone is,” I added, hoping she’d get the gist that we didn’t discriminate, and maybe she should follow suit.

She hesitated, lifting her eyes to study the storefront again.

“Look, it’s just an offer. I can understand you wanting to get out of the house, be alone, but there’s no reason for you to stay outside.”

After a moment, she asked in a low tone, “Why?”

“Um, because it’s pouring rain?”

“No. I mean, why are you being nice to me?” She met my gaze steadily.

Good question, but unexpected. “I—”

“Face it, we both know I’ve never been the least bit nice to you. In fact, I’ve treated you like dirt for years.”

True enough. A triumphant thrill rushed through me from the simple fact of her acknowledging what a witch (ha ha) she’s always been, but I maintained my composure. And I told her the truth. “Because you’re alone. You’re sad. And you’re sitting in a downpour right in front of the shop where I can see you.” I paused. “I know you don’t like me, and that’s fine. I have all the friends I need. But, like you said, I also know what it feels like to constantly be treated like dirt.”

Her face reddened.

“I can’t stand by and watch you shivering and miserable out here.” I spread my arms. “Think what you will about me, but I’m not a mean person like that.”

“No,” she said, softly. Almost too softly for me to hear. “You aren’t.”

Those three simple words melted my iciness. I jostled her shoulder with mine. “So, what do you say?”

She shrugged, but her voice came out watery sounding, like she could barely hold back tears. “Whatever.”

I stood, then waited.

After a moment, Jennifer stood, too.

As we crossed the street, curiosity got the better of me. I asked, “So, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you mean what you said about…um…your boobs really hurting?”

“Pain like you wouldn’t believe,” she said, rolling her eyes toward the sky. “Imagine pre-period soreness and then magnify it about a hundred times. And they’re getting ugly stretch marks on the sides, which is probably more than you wanted to hear. I guess it’s a normal part of pregnancy.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. The pain keeps me awake at night. That and the peeing every five seconds. This baby stuff just…sucks.”

I nodded. “Have you thought about adoption?”

Her eyebrow furrowed. “Why would I adopt? I’m already pregnant.”

I laughed that time—just couldn’t help it. The Society of the Profoundly Obtuse has a poster child, apparently, and her name is Jennifer Hamilton. “No. I meant about giving the baby up for adoption.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Because of…the boob thing?”

“That, and the constant worry.” She shrugged. “My brain doesn’t seem to work right on sleep deprivation.”

“No one’s does.” I pulled the door to the shop open and the bell jangled. “It’s me, Reese!” I called out.

“Okay, hon,” she hollered back, distractedly.

“Reese,” Jennifer said. “Is she one of the—?”

“Owners,” I said sharply, cutting off whatever ignorant comment she was about to make, because I truly didn’t want to punch a pregnant girl, even if she pushed me to the edge. “Yes, she is.”

The warmth and soothing vibe of Inner Power wrapped around us like a hug. I watched Jennifer rubbing her hands together, taking it all in. She looked pleasantly surprised that we weren’t sacrificing goats or virgins or something in here. Oh—I guess I should’ve left that virgin part off, just to be sensitive to the situation. “So? Adoption?” I prompted, since she hadn’t answered.

She unzipped her soaked hoodie and shook it over the entrance mat, the water droplets making little ploppity-plop sounds as they hit the rubber.

I pointed toward the totally cool coat tree fashioned out of real tree branches, and she hung it up. I did the same with my slicker.

“Well, since my parents are threatening me hourly unless I do put the baby up for adoption, yeah, I’ve thought about it. But they’re just being such jerks, always hammering it into my head that I’m a disappointment.” Her chin quivered. She pressed her lips together until it stopped, and I extended her the courtesy of acting like I hadn’t seen. “That fact alone makes me want to do the opposite of what they want,” she finished, her tone bitter.

“Yeah, but be realistic. Are you ready to be a mom?”

She blew out a sigh. “No. No way.”

“Then forget rebelling against your parents and think about what you want to do.” I raised my palms. “I mean, do you really want to pull an ‘I’ll show you’ with your parents and wind up with a baby at seventeen?”

“No, you’re right. It all just sucks. I’m overwhelmed and just…overwhelmed.” She hiked her shoulders and let them fall. “I don’t know another word for it.”

I decided to drop the subject. Instead, I spread my arms to encompass the cozy store. “So, this is the place.”

She peered around again. “It’s cute. And it smells good in here.”

“Essential oils. And candles.” I gestured toward the super-comfy chairs in one corner of the book section. “Feel free to look around, but if you want to just sit, those chairs are the primo spot.”

“I’ll sit for now. I’m so exhausted.”

“I guess that’s normal, too. Right?”

She nodded. “Especially in the first trimester.”

“Do you want some herbal tea?”

Her nose crinkled. “Do you have hot chocolate?”

I nodded. “My own private stash. Marshmallows?”

“Sure.” A small, pensive look strained the corners of her mouth. “Meryl, wait.”

I stopped. Turned. Crossed my arms.

“Let me just…say something.”

She hesitated, and I have to say it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Jennifer looking genuine, free of agendas or meanness. It softened her sharp edges and actually made her look pretty—no makeup, dressed like a slob, bad dye job and everything.

She cleared her throat. “I still don’t fully understand why you’d be this nice to me after…everything. I mean”—pain and, dare I say, embarrassment? tightened her eyes—“it’s definitely not how I’d react if the situation was reversed, which says a lot about my personality, I guess. But…thank you. I mean it.”

I chose my words carefully. “Some people don’t see the point in being nasty for nasty’s sake,” I said, before heading to the back for the cocoa.

Just remember how nice I’m being once your trauma ends.

And how good it feels when people aren’t evil to you.

I wished I could say it out loud, but that’s Jennifer’s life lesson to learn in her own time. The best I can do is lead by example, I suppose.

*

Two hours later, Jennifer was sound asleep in one of the narcolepsy chairs (my pet name for them, because they were soooo comfortable) with alternative birthing books piled up around her. I tiptoed over and glanced at the open one on her lap. I’m always curious about what other people are reading.

Bending down, I read a few lines.

Well, well. Jennifer “isn’t that a witch store?” Hamilton was reading up on the ancient Navajo Blessingway ceremony to celebrate a woman’s transition into motherhood, which isn’t exactly mainstream fare. Interesting. The Navajos say, “Whatever happens here on earth must first be dreamed,” and that’s what a Blessingway’s all about. It made me wonder if she was considering keeping the baby. And that made me think about Lila, and what she would think if she walked into the store right this very second.

My chest tightened.

Gosh, this being a good person vs. being a loyal friend stuff is super difficult. Really, it shouldn’t be mutually exclusive, but that all depends on who’s the father of Jennifer’s baby. If it is Dylan, I can’t blame Lila for her feelings. I should just ask Jennifer, but I was afraid to hear the answer.

Awful.

I went crossed to the cash wrap area and plunked my elbows onto the countertop, then rested my forehead in my hands. I was going to have to tell Lila about Jennifer. If only I knew how. Just then, Reese emerged from the back room in mid-comment about placing an order for some new soy candles or something.

I glanced up and laid a finger across my lips, then pointed toward Jennifer. Reese raised her perfectly arched eyebrows, then tilted her head toward the back room. I followed her.

“Okay, so who’s sleeping beauty out there?” she asked in a soft tone. She yanked the pen out of the knot at the back of her head and her hair tumbled loose around her shoulders. She ran her spread fingers through it, brushing it away from her face.

“She’s this girl,” I said with a sigh.

Reese smirked. “I can see that.”

“Actually, she hates me.”

Bewilderment. “What?”

Way to explain things clearly, Meryl
. I flipped my hand. “She’s in the popular group, and I’m totally not. You know how high school is.”

“Ah. Unfortunately yes. Why is she here, then?”

“She’s pregnant.”

“Oh! Poor thing.” A shadow crossed Reese’s expression. “But that still doesn’t explain why she’s here.”

I twisted my mouth to the side and nodded. “It’s really complicated, Reese, and I’m so confused.”

She steered me over and sat me down in her desk chair, then leaned one hip on the desk. “Talk to me.”

I quickly explained about the whole Dylan / Lila angle and the fact that Jennifer’s parents weren’t exactly supportive. “But, the thing is, even though she doesn’t like me, even though my best friend is her archenemy, even though…all of it…she’s so alone and scared, and I can’t stand it. I saw her. She was sitting out in the rain, and I just…” I shrugged.

After a moment of studying my no doubt ravaged face, Reese gave me a hug. “You’re an awesome soul, Mer. And she is welcome here anytime.”

I cringed, glancing at the floor.

“There’s something else?”

I nodded. “She’s not exactly what you’d call a progressive thinker when it comes to gay stuff. I’m afraid she might say something ignorant.”

Reese laughed. “That’s probably because she thinks she doesn’t know any gay people, although I guarantee she does. But don’t worry about that. Neither Kelly nor I need your protection from the bigots of the world. You just be you, okay?”

“Okay.” I smiled. “Thank you.” Another nagging question kept me sitting there, though. I wanted to let it go, but I couldn’t seem to. I’d been worrying about it for way too long, and I needed to get it off my chest. “Um, can I ask you one other thing?”

She crossed one foot over the other. “Shoot.”

“We didn’t have many customers today.”

She brushed it off. “Eh. Rain.”

“But”—I swallowed thickly, and my heart started to thud—“I guess what I’m asking is, you won’t have to, ah, fire me or lay me off anytime soon, will you?”

Crossing her arms, Reese shook her head slowly. Her brown eyes softened. “You’ve been stressing about this all day, haven’t you?”

My face heated. “Sort of all week. Or…maybe longer.”

“Listen, hon. Kelly and I would take every other measure possible before we ever lost you as an employee, okay? You have nothing to worry about. We’re smart about the business, and one slow day isn’t going to kill it.”

I released a long breath. “Oh, good. I didn’t mean to imply that you and Kelly aren’t good businesspeople.”

“I know that, Mer.”

I held up my palm. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I was just worried because I can’t think of anyplace I’d want to work besides here.”

She reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “And we can’t think of anyone else we’d want to work here, so that’s one less thing for your overactive imagination to focus on. Deal?”