Everything in Between

by Hubbard, Crystal

  He nodded. “I like it. It’s not too girlie and not too masculine. It’s warm.”

  “Warmth is exactly what your house needs.” Zae held onto the palette family Chip liked for the lower floor of his house and began sorting through colors for the master bedroom. “What do you think of this?” she asked, holding up a sample called Santorini blue.

  “I like it.” Chip held it up to the light. “It’s not too bright, not too dark.”

  “It matches your eyes,” Zae said. “It’s the color of a lake, just before sunrise.”

  Chip smiled at the image Zae’s description painted.

  “This one would be nice for the accent wall adjacent to the windows,” she added. “It’s called Solaria Buff.”

  “It’s beige,” Chip deadpanned.

  “It’s a subtle, bright beige.”

  “What about the ceiling and trim?”

  “White. Plain, old, nice clean white.”

  “Any thoughts on the bathroom?” Chip asked. “You’re good at this.”

  “I’d go with a warm shade of green. Supposedly, green energizes you without making you hyper. I’d go with white trim and a white ceiling for continuity with the bedroom.”

  “Sounds good.” Chip flipped through the green swatches. “How ‘bout this one? Kilkenny green.” He showed it to her.

  “It’s magically delicious,” Zae approved in a terrible Irish accent.

  “I want the kitchen to be white, but I don’t know what color to paint the dining room,” Chip said. “I want it to match the kitchen and living room.”

  “You’ve got that great wall adjacent to the archway joining the dining room and the kitchen,” Zae said. “Put a pop of color there, and use the same color from the living room on the other walls. Paint the trim in the dining room the same color as the walls in the kitchen. Problem solved.”

  Zae went to the wall of color and picked one swatch from the thousands before her. “This one is perfect for that burst of color your dining room needs.” She handed the card to Chip.

  “Cayenne,” he read.

  “Red and orange supposedly stimulate the appetite,” Zae explained. “This is a good combination of those two colors. It doesn’t look like it came out of a crayon box. It’s eye-pleasing.”

  “It’s good enough for me.” Chip smiled and slipped an arm around Zae’s waist. “I’d have been here all day without you. Or else I’d have just decided to paint everything white. The house is going to be awesome when we’re finished with it.”

  “How much did you pay for it?” Zae asked.

  “What happened with Elton and his cronies?” Swatches in hand, Chip started for the paint technician. “You had your meeting with them and the dean the other day, right?”

  “Dr. Bligh took all of the boys, except Elton Dye, into his class. Elton gave him some lip about not wanting to make up the work Bligh’s class has already done, and Dr. Bligh turned him down. Elton has to repeat American Literature. From what I hear, he’s not too happy about it.”

  “Did they apologize?” Chip gave his selections to the paint technician, who carefully calculated the amount of paint Chip would need for each room, based on the room dimensions he provided.

  “Elton phoned his in,” Zae said. “Two of the others wrote letters of apology. Jeff Cordaway wrote a two-page apology, and then went right out and cleaned my car. It couldn’t have been easy, either. That car sat in the lot for two days with vomit cooking in the sun. He scoured it, inside and out. I think he was just with the wrong group of kids at the wrong time.”

  “So you forgive him?”

  “Absolutely. It’s a shame his scholarship is in jeopardy, since he had to miss a football game. I interceded on his behalf with the dean and the financial aid department. If they don’t pony up and let him keep the dough, I’ll pay the difference in his tuition. He’s a good kid and he needs to finish college. I don’t want one incident of stupidity to ruin the rest of his life.”

  Chip impulsively took her in his arms and lavished her with a kiss. Fellow shoppers slowed their carts as they passed. The paint technician stared openly, smiling.

  “What was that for?” Zae asked once Chip pulled away.

  “You’re an incredible person.”

  “Duh,” Zae grunted. “You’re only just figuring that out?”

  “No, I’ve actually known it for some time now.”

  Chip collected his gallons of paint and set them in the basket of his shopping cart. Zae looped her arm through his as they started for the checkouts. “You’re pretty nifty yourself, Chip.”

  “ ‘Nifty?’ That sounds like one of CJ’s words.” He chuckled. “But thank you.”

  “It’s actually Braeden’s word. He told me you were ‘a nifty guy’ the other day. He’s really enjoying your class. Looks like he’s slimming down, too.”

  “He works like a Spartan in class,” Chip said, parking his cart in the express lane. “In mine and all his classes at MU, too. I’d be failing chemistry if it weren’t for him. He tutors me twice a week.”

  “See what you can do about his hair,” Zae snorted. “It’s so bushy, I can’t even see his eyes anymore. He looks like a sheepdog.”

  Chip shook his own mass of curls. “I can’t really get on his case about a haircut. I’m long overdue myself.”

  “I love your curls.” Zae smiled. “They suit you. You remind me of Ariel from The Tempest.”

  “Prospero’s little spy,” Chip said with a sidelong glance at Zae.

  “You’ve read The Tempest?”

  “I dig the Bard of Avon.”

  Zae took Chip’s face in her hands, interrupting his effort to place his paint on the cashier’s conveyor belt. She kissed him, bending him over the checkout stand.

  “What was that for?” Chip asked once she turned him loose.

  “I was overcome. It turns me on when you talk literature, and I have a special weakness for Shakespeare.”

  “ ‘Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,’ ” Chip started. “ ‘I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.’ ”

  Chewing her gum, the cashier warily stared at him. “What?” she asked, then gave him his total.

  Taking a deep breath, Zae’s knees weakened. She clutched a handful of the back of Chip’s leather racing jacket.

  Chip opened his wallet, plucked a credit card from it and handed it to the cashier.

  “ ‘The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones.’ ”

  “Do you know Marc Antony’s entire speech?” Zae asked, impressed.

  “Had to memorize it ninth grade. Now I’m glad I did.” He leaned close to Zae, to whisper in her ear. “You should hear me give it naked.”

  “Can I interest you in joining our frequent buyers club?” the cashier asked blandly. “If you’re doing a lot of repairs or remodeling, our card can save you up to twenty percent on—”

  “Thank you, but not at this time,” Zae broke in. “We’ve got to get back home and get naked for Marc Antony’s speech.” She grabbed two bags, each containing two gallons of paint, and hurried to the exit.

  “ ‘Oh shame, where is thy blush?’ ” Chip muttered. He loaded the rest of his paint into the cart and zoomed after Zae, just as eager to give the rest of Marc Antony’s speech as she was to receive it.

  * * *

  Zae used a pair of needle-nose pliers to pinch the clasp of a silver butterfly closure around one end of her new length of chain link. The hook attached to the back of the butterfly fit perfectly in the loop of the other end of the chain. Five minutes of handiwork with a length of chain costing less than five dollars, and she’d made a cute new belt that harkened back to her high school days and her dip into punk fashions.

  She went into her bathroom to try on the belt, wrapping it around her waist as she went. She closed the door behind her to view herself in the full-length mirror attached to the door. Even though she wore her skinniest pair of blue jeans, the belt was more snug than she�
�d expected it to be. Her waist size had been exactly twenty-eight inches for the past five years, and she’d purchased thirty inches of chain. The four-inch width of the butterfly clasp should have given her more than enough room for the belt to hang from her hips the way she had envisioned.

  But the belt was snug. Tight, even.

  She peeled off her jeans and tried it again. She had a bit more slack, but not as much as she should have had. Standing in profile, she sucked in her belly. The belt dropped, the butterfly sitting on her abdomen, which was no longer as flat as it had been. Her heart thumping a bit harder, she pressed on her abdomen with both hands.

  Biting her lower lip, she went back into the bedroom, the tails of her shirt dancing at her upper thighs. She opened her briefcase and withdrew her personal planner. Already opened to the November calendar, she immediately noticed the little red circle she’d drawn around the date six days hence.

  I’m probably just retaining water, she told herself.

  Nonetheless, she turned back to October and found the red circle she’d drawn around the twenty-eighth. She was as regular as a Swiss timepiece, and she expected her November monthly to arrive as scheduled. But just in case her abdomen knew something her brain didn’t, she went into the bathroom and put her jeans back on. Slipping on her shoes, she grabbed her purse. She tossed her new belt onto her bed, where it landed with a merry clink that sounded like laughter, as if it knew Zae was dashing to the nearest pharmacy.

  * * *

  “I’m so happy all of you could come for Thanksgiving dinner,” Zae said, standing at the head of her dining table.

  Her guests—Cinder and Gian, Sionne, Cory and Chip—exchanged knowing glances. Zae’s invitation had been more like a declaration: come to dinner at her house, or else.

  “I was a little surprised when you called,” Cinder said. “Since you’d said you wanted to have a quiet dinner with the kids with no fuss.”

  “Well, things change.” Zae took her seat at the head of her dining table. “Anything can happen, whether you’re prepared for it or not.”

  “I’m glad we’re all together today,” Eve said. “I love my family, and I’m so grateful all of you are a part of it.”

  Cory gave her a sweet kiss on her cheek and raised his glass of sparkling grape juice for a toast. Rolling her eyes, Dawn clinked her glass with Sionne’s.

  “The table looks great,” Chip said. “I can’t believe this spread.”

  “Would you care to say grace?” Zae offered.

  “I suppose I can muddle through,” Chip replied. He cleared his throat and took Zae’s hand on his right and Cinder’s on his left. “Dear Lord,” he began, “thank you for the gifts we are about to receive, and thank for the company with whom we share them. Thank you for the blessings you have bestowed on us this day and every day of our lives.” He squeezed Zae’s hand. “Amen.”

  A chorus of amens followed, then hands began reaching for the dishes Zae had prepared.

  “Would someone please pass the dressing?” CJ asked. “Mama wouldn’t let me taste it when she made it, and it smelled so good in the oven.”

  “Everything looks and smells delicious!” Sionne said. He used a silver serving spoon to shovel baby peas onto his plate. They rained over a mound of mashed potatoes that looked like a miniature volcano oozing gravy.

  Conversation died as Zae’s guests began to eat. Zae happily watched them. There was no greater compliment than the noise of cutlery and chewing at the beginning of a meal she had prepared with love and care. But then she noticed that Cinder wasn’t eating.

  “Is there something wrong, Cinder?” Zae asked.

  Staring at her plate, Cinder smiled and said, “Baby peas and baby carrots. There’s baby corn in the salad, and you made your gingered baby back ribs. I should have known that you’d be able to figure it out.” She looked up from her plate, tears swimming in her eyes. Gian put his arm around her. He swiped his linen napkin across his lips before pressing a tender kiss to her temple.

  “Figure what out?” Zae asked.

  “That I’m pregnant.”

  Zae’s breath left her in a rush. “I didn’t know you were pregnant! I thought you were just getting fat. I’m the one who’s pregnant!”

  Forks froze in mid-air. Eyes widened. Jaws loosened on their hinges. Zae covered her face with her hands.

  “Wait a second.” She circled in back of Chip and kneeled at Cinder’s side. “You’re pregnant? Really?”

  Cinder nodded, her tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

  Zae took her in a tight, quick embrace, then let her go to hold her hands. “But I thought you couldn’t…you said there was too much scarring…”

  “The doctors were wrong.” Cinder hugged her abdomen. With her long, loose floral-print blouse molded to her body, it was easy to the see the baby bump she’d been concealing. “We’re due in late March. Gian and I were just as surprised, and I hope delighted, as you are.”

  Zae began to weep. “I’m more than delighted. I’m so happy for you!” She laughed out loud. “I should have guessed when I saw you eating that ghetto pregnancy pickle!”

  “A what?” Cory chuckled.

  “Cinder was eating a giant dill pickle with a candy cane stuck in the center of it,” Zae explained. “Pickles plus peppermint equals pregnant, where I come from.”

  “You come from the ghetto, Mama?” CJ asked.

  “Boy, shut up, and be happy for your Auntie Cinder and Uncle Gian,” Zae directed, hugging Cinder again.

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re all happy for Gian and Cinder.” Chip’s voice quivered. “Zae…uh…you’re pregnant? You’re having a baby, too?”

  Still smiling at Cinder, Zae said, “Yes. And don’t act surprised because it’s all your fault.”

  Chip touched her shoulder to turn her to face him. “I’m going to be a father?”

  “Yes, damn it!” Zae snapped. “I haven’t been with anyone but you, so who else would be my baby’s daddy?” Rolling her eyes at Chip, she turned back to Cinder. “What about adoption? Are you still going through with it?”

  “Absolutely,” Gian said. “We’ve already notified the adoption agency and they don’t have a problem with us adopting while we’re expecting. We might be able to adopt sooner, since we’d like to adopt an older child.”

  “I’d love to welcome a ‘big kid’ or a baby into our family close to the birth of this little one,” Cinder said, patting her bump. “The more the merrier.”

  “Or the crazier.” Gian laughed.

  “I’m a father!” Chip blurted. He drew his hand down his face, pulling his eyes and mouth out of shape. “Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “One day I’m plain ol’ Chip Kish, the next, I’m Daddy Chip.”

  “I’m as surprised as you are, ‘Daddy Chip.’ ” Dawn scowled. “This is the last thing I expected from you, Mother.”

  Chip spun Zae by her shoulders, to face him. “Were you going to tell me, or did you hope I’d just notice your waistline doubling in size?”

  “I was hoping you’d figure it out.” Zae offered him a feeble smile.

  “How long have you known?” Chip gulped down his wine and accepted when Gian offered to refill his glass.

  “For a few days,” Zae answered, standing. “I bought that chain the other day to make a belt, and it was tighter than I thought it should be. I thought I was getting fat like Cinder. But it’s not fat. It’s your baby.”

  “Our baby,” Chip muttered. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. “We’re having a baby.”

  “This is crazy talk,” Dawn blurted. “Mom, you’re too old to have another child!”

  “Congratulations, Mama,” Eve said, dabbing at tears. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  “I hope it’s a boy,” CJ said.

  “Chip just hit the deck,” Sionne announced. He helped himself to a thick slice of turkey from Chip’s plate.

  Gian and Cory were already at Chip’s chair, which had fallen straight backwards with Chip still i
n it. They righted him while Cinder dipped her napkin in her water glass and then used it to wipe Chip’s face. More fond of the direct approach, Zae picked up his water goblet and splashed the water in his face.

  He sputtered awake, dazed and confused through the water dripping from his nose and chin. “What the—?”

  “You passed out, Papa,” Dawn said.

  “Are you okay?” Gian asked. “You gave yourself a knock on the head there, kid.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Chip insisted. He stood, wobbling only a little bit. Zae steadied him with an arm around his waist. “Could I have a word with you in private?”

  “We’ll be right back.” With a smile at her guests, Zae left the dining room with Chip. They went up to her bedroom, where she sat him on the bed and got a cool, damp towel for his face.

  “I know this is a shock to you,” Zae began, sitting beside him. “It was a shock to me, too.”

  Chip, breathing slightly hard, pressed the cool towel to the back of his neck.

  “We should have been more careful,” Zae went on. “I thought I had my dates right. There’s such a small window of fertility, and I was mindful of the days I was ovulating, but—”

  “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me besides you,” Chip said earnestly. “My God, woman, are you trying to apologize for this?” He pressed a reverent hand to her abdomen. “For this?” He blinked away the tears threatening to fall. “Don’t you dare, Zae. I didn’t know I wanted this until you gave it to me.” He kissed her, hard, pressing her onto the bed.

  Zae reveled in his happiness. She hadn’t realized how worried she’d been about his reaction until now, now that his touch eased away the tension she’d been carrying. Chip stroked and caressed her as if she were the most priceless thing under the sun, and kissed her as if he drew life from each kiss. He bared himself physically and emotionally, his tears dampening Zae’s skin with each kiss he pressed to her abdomen. Zae’s uncertainty regarding her pregnancy melted. With Chip’s eager acceptance, she no longer thought of it as her pregnancy. Now, she thought only of her baby. Their baby.

  With Chip’s breath in her ear, his hands clenched in her hair, and his baby in her belly, they were joined more completely than ever before. There was no turning back, not that she’d ever considered doing so. But as for moving forward, Zae resolved to take her time. She would do what was best for her children, her new baby, and certainly for Chip.