by Gina LaManna
The baby shifted, as if taking everything in with me in awe. Baby and mama, connected in such a private way for only a short time longer now. I gave my stomach a pat, feeling the sudden burst to keep Sprout warm in there forever, safe and protected, free from the burdens of the world.
A little dream, a wonder, a piece of Anthony and I that’d connected in such an incredible way. How could our sweet little child ever face the scary, complicated world that we lived in? I couldn’t help the gasp that racked me as the baby kicked, hard, as if shooting sense into me with vigor.
“Lace—are you okay?” Nora put her hands on my shoulders, and I was pleasantly surprised to find her grip strong and sure. She steered me toward the chair and propped me into place, watching me with nervous anticipation on her face. “Are you experiencing contractions?”
“No, Nora, it’s not that. It’s this, it’s everything.” I rested my hands against my chest, the baby settling back into place and leaving my intestines where they belonged. “You shouldn’t have done all of this.”
“I’m sorry! I swear, we’ll have it replaced tomorrow. Money is no issue, Lacey. And if I robbed you and Anthony of decorating—”
“No, that’s not at all what I meant. What I’m trying to say...” The tears were back, pricking at my eyes. This time, it wasn’t the hormones or the rollercoaster of emotion that brought them about; it was the deep sense of love that’d washed over me the second my baby and I had stepped into the room. “It’s perfect. Absolutely gorgeous, Nora. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“No, dear, I don’t know how to thank you.” My grandmother perched on the edge of the armchair, leaning her soft little body against my larger, curvy one. She swallowed back her own tears, resting her cheek against my head. “In the main house, I have this beautiful room for you. State-of-the-art everything. Custom-made, imported from Italy, from Germany, from God-knows-where. The best of the best in the world. My grandbaby...” She paused to smile at me. “And my great-grandbaby, deserve the best.”
I watched as Nora rested her hand on my stomach, waited, and smiled gently when she felt the baby respond with a kick. She let out a happy little sigh, which was followed by a desperate sob—the transition so quick it startled me.
“Nora, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? This place is perfect. It’s—”
“I know it doesn’t look like the creme de la creme of baby products,” she said, biting her lip as she looked around. “And I suppose it’s not. But almost everything in here is, well, it was mine. I’d saved a lot of this to pass down to your mother; I was so sure she’d make me a grandmother.” She paused for a smile. “And she did, I suppose, though I didn’t know you for so long.”
I squeezed her hand. She didn’t react, still lost in a dreamy haze of remembrance.
“When I first stepped foot in here, planning to gift you a nursery, I planned to have Carlos’s strapping young men haul all that equipment I’d just purchased for you across the yard and place it in here. It really is the best of the best, you know,” she repeated, sounding distant. “But then, I discovered I couldn’t do it.”
Our hands sat gently interlinked. I didn’t dare move.
“They don’t make things like they used to.” She offered a smile, then stood and moved over to the bookshelves. Running a hand along the worn wood, she paused, studying the titles on the top shelf with a loving gaze. “I read many of these to your mother.”
“Really?”
“I did. I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away, just like I couldn’t bring myself to outfit this room with the modern junk Carlos showed me how to order online. When I mentioned reusing your mother’s old things in here, Carlos said you wouldn’t like used...” She paused, probably to sensor her words. “Used crap.”
“Nora—”
“And I’m sorry, I was selfish. I gave you my old crap instead of the new things that are sitting in the nursery at the estate. I had to, Lacey, I had to.” She turned to me, her face pale. “I have to leave a little bit of myself here with you. I don’t know how many years I have left, and I already missed the birth and childhood of one of my grandchildren. You, sweetheart.”
I struggled to stand, but Nora raised her hand in a signal to stop and rejoined me beside the armchair. Her thin arms curved around my neck, and she curled in close, smelling of cinnamon and chocolate and peppermint. Like a grandmother should smell. When her hand cupped my cheek, I very nearly lost it. But I listened, as much for her as for myself.
“I love you, Lacey, and I love this sweet little baby more than you’ll ever know. I want him or her to feel so loved, and so wanted, and so cherished that they’ll never—” She choked out a sigh—“Never feel the need to leave us like she did.”
“It’s not the same,” I said, my heart aching for Nora. “That was different. It’s not your fault.”
Though I’d sympathized with my grandmother before, I’d never truly understood her pain. Maybe I still didn’t. But the bonds between mother and baby had already arrived and carved out their place in my soul with immovable steel grips. I loved this baby, too. It’d be impossible to know what Nora had been through, but I was a little closer to understanding. In a few days, I’d have a child of my own in this world.
I clasped Nora close and struggled not to cry for her sake. Her tears left spotted dots on my dress, and when the shawl I’d worn over my shoulders slipped down, my skin felt the wetness from her cheeks.
When we finally parted, she gave a short, tense laugh. “You’d better have that child soon, sweetie, because I think your hormones are rubbing off on me.”
I smiled back and left my hand resting on hers. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about this baby tonight. A lot about what it’ll mean to have him or her born, to be in my arms, to be...to be a little person out here.”
Nora nodded, a knowing gaze in her eyes. She didn’t have to speak to tell me she understood completely.
“I have worried all night. About how I’m not ready to be a mother. About how this baby will be born to the Luzzi name.” I winced, but forced myself to continue, to be honest and bare and raw as she had been. “A name that has certain...connotations associated with it. I’ll admit, I worried about this little guy or girl being raised in our family.”
Nora looked down. She provided no argument or justifications, merely a listening ear.
“I worried I wouldn’t know how to care for a real, live human being.”
Nora squeezed my hand back and smiled. “You’re doing a perfect job of growing that little one. He’s lucky to have you as his mama.”
“Yeah, maybe, but my only responsibilities are to give up caffeine and eat enough for two.” I shrugged. “That’s not my point. My point is that I had all of these big huge worries before I came home tonight, and...thank you.”
“Thank you? For what?”
“For reminding me of something I was stupid to lose sight of.” I grinned, finally allowing the tears prickling at my eyes to slip down my cheeks. “Being born a Luzzi was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. Returning to the family is even better.”
I pressed myself to a standing position, sucking in an unladylike wheeze of air. I caught my breath, strolling around the room and stretching stiff muscles and swollen ankles as I took my time touching the old furniture.
My fingers savored the grooved bookshelves, the imperfections in the picture frames that held photos of smiling faces: mom and dad, grandma and grandpa, Nora and Carlos, and the rest of the family.
“This room...” I gestured a hand around. “It says everything. It’s warm, and it’s bright, and it’s cozy and loving and traditional. It’s fun and vibrant and filled with the Luzzi spirit,” I said, laughing as I thumbed at a goofy photo of myself and Anthony on our wedding day.
Nora laughed, too, and wiped her eyes again.
“This nursery is perfect. Thank you, thank you so much. I guess—I didn’t have the courage, I suppose, to prepare for things because
it didn’t feel real, and so I put it all off. And you bringing all this together for me, for the baby, well, it just proves how lucky this little guy will be, how loved and wanted he or she already is.”
“Of course, honey.”
“Even if I’m not enough for this baby, that’s okay.” I forced a grin, despite the trembling in my lips. “Because I don’t have to do this alone.”
“Oh, sweetie, you are enough—more than enough. But no, you’ll never be alone. Those two things are not mutually exclusive.” Nora stood, crossed the room, and pulled me into her embrace. “I’m so proud of you, honey. And I appreciate you letting me be a part of all this. I—I suppose I needed it, in a way.”
“Well, good, because I needed it, too,” I said on a laugh. “And if you hadn’t pulled through on this nursery, we’d be setting up a Wal-Mart futon for the baby in the living room. Directly from womb to college.”
Nora laughed and squeezed me tighter. “Keep that sense of humor, honey. You’ll need it when that child screams all night. If he or she is anything like your mother, you’re in for a real treat.”
“Oh, boy.”
“But it is the best thing,” Nora said, blinking, her eyelashes still damp with tears. “It is the best thing you can do, if it’s what you want.”
“It is. I’m sure of it.”
“I should let you know, we do still have that state-of-the-art nursery at home that I mentioned,” Nora said with a sly smile. “So, whenever you need someone to help watch the baby, or you’re looking for some private time with Anthony for little one number two—”
“We haven’t even had our first one yet!”
“I’m just saying. We have plenty of space. With the best equipment.”
I grinned. “So I’ve heard.”
“Come here a second, and let me show you my favorite story,” Nora said, in an abrupt change of subject. “Did your mother ever read you this one?”
I clasped the proffered book with both hands. “Oh, of course, I know this one! And look! You have Goodnight, Moon, and...oh, I haven’t seen The Giving Tree in ages.”
The next several hours flicked by, like little scenes from an old viewfinder. Nora and I sat plunked unceremoniously on the floor, flipping through books, exchanging stories from when my mother was a baby, and what I remembered from my own childhood of her life as a mother.
Anthony found us propped against the wall sometime later. Nora’s head was resting on my shoulder, my head nuzzled against hers. In the background, music from the same recordings my mother had listened to as a baby hummed lullabies that’d sent us drifting into dreams.
Chapter 19
“HEY, I BROUGHT BREAKFAST!” Meg grinned, then stepped through the door to my house. “And by brought breakfast, I mean I brought myself over here to raid your cabinets. Want me to make you some cereal?”
“I already ate,” I said, glancing toward the clock as she moseyed over to the cabinets. “I’m on third breakfast, also known as lunch.”
“Dang, woman. You almost make a gal want to have a baby, just for the luxury of extra calories.”
“Yeah, it’s not all glitz and glamour.” I huffed and plopped down. “Believe me. It feels like I’m walking around with two hot water bottles strapped to my ankles. And try tying your shoes. I dare you, just try it.”
Meg grabbed the Lucky Charms and poured herself a bowl. Then she grabbed the eggnog from the fridge and dumped it on top. “I can tie my shoes just fine, thanks. Are you ready to hear my great plan for the day?”
Meg proffered a bite of cereal, and I accepted. “Sure. I hope it involves a bath and a movie.”
“That’s on your own time, chickadee,” she says. “We’ve got work to do if you’re feeling up for it. I vote we focus on corporate. If stupid Rankle would let us pull the security footage from the mall, we could show the women’s pictures around and see if that sparked anything.”
“I don’t know, it’s a long shot.”
“If that doesn’t work, why don’t we find this Fidge guy and show our faces around his office? Really spook him. Maybe enough that he’ll do something drastic.”
By the time Meg finished her plan, my head was shaking. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to pass.”
“You have a better idea?” Meg asked. “Because I suppose I could be flexible. I considered looking more into the plant-napper, but it feels like things worked out okay there. I don’t think Marcy wants us rocking the boat since they’ve been paid.”
“No, Meg, listen.” I leaned forward onto the countertop, trying not to cringe as she picked out the marshmallows first. Everyone knows that the marshmallows are destined to be saved for last. “I think I’m done. I’m going into retirement.”
“Retirement from what?”
“This! The...the Luzzi side of things. I’m going to be a mom, and I’m going to focus on my shifts at your bar—I think I’ve skipped the last three.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t write you up.”
“I know, and I also know you don’t need my help. You just gave me the job out of sympathy.”
“And because Anthony asked me to.” Meg slapped a hand over her mouth. “Can we rewind? I wasn’t supposed to say that.”
“Anthony did what?!”
“He didn’t ask me to do it, per say, he just suggested it might be a nice thing for me to offer you a job that kept you mostly out of trouble,” Meg said, staring deep into her Lucky Charms colored eggnog. “For the duration of your pregnancy. And everyone knows that when Anthony asks for something politely, it’s mostly a threat.”
“Why would he do that? Nope, never mind—stupid question,” I said. “He wanted me distracted and babysat, so I didn’t go and do anything stupid. Like provoke a cop, or tick off the CFO of a huge bank chain.”
“Sounds about right.”
“This is exactly why I’m going to have to pass. Anthony’s smarter than me; he knew I’d get bored. He’s just trying to keep me and the baby safe by keeping me occupied. I have to let this go, Meg.”
“So, you’re not interested in running errands with me?”
I squinted. “You just wanted to look into a bank heist. Are you including that on your errand list these days?”
She pointed to a brown paper bag she’d dropped by the front door next to her shoes. “I have a wad of cash from Todd. I have to deposit it. It just so happens I belong to Bank of the Lakes.”
“I see what you’re doing—you’re trying to suck me into this through a back door.”
“No back doors, just the front door. Wide open. Wanna ride along? I’m planning to stop for lunch after.”
“Where’s lunch?” I pointed a finger at her. “If you’re trying to trick me...”
“Girl, I’m going to put money in the bank and keep a little out for a nice gourmet fast food burger. You can come with me, get out of the house, and indulge your cravings, or you can sit here alone. Your choice.”
“Fine,” I said on a sigh, after surveying the silent house. “I’ll come with you, but I’m just riding along. Got it?”
“Got it. Say, what if we check out the next bank on the list? You know, the second Bank of the Lakes near the mall. You don’t have to look into anything. I might take a few peeks around, but I won’t tell you about that.”
“You just told me about that.”
“Well, forget it. Let’s go.” Meg slurped down the last of the cereal, then picked up her sack of cash and slipped into her shoes and jacket. “Come on, lady. It might be your last meal eating for two.”
I felt my face go pale. “That’s terrifying.”
“It’s true. Sometimes these things happen early.”
“Let’s make this quick.” I made some magic happen as I wriggled my way into my largest coat. I didn’t bother attempting the zipper. I stopped dead outside at the empty driveway. “Hey, how’d you get here?”
“Oh, yeah. Clay dropped me off. Can you take me to retrieve Patty? I figure we can leave your car at the sh
op and have them look into the clicking noise it makes when you turn left or right.”
“Meg.” I stared straight at her. “That’s my blinker. You’re supposed to have that sound.”
“Huh,” she said. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt for them to throw in some flames on the side of your car or something to spice that baby up. It’s a little dull.”
As luck would have it, Nora was headed to the grocery store—a new and terrifying adventure for her in recent months—and she happily agreed to drop us off at Chance’s before hitting up the frozen aisle.
“I’m making a cake,” Nora said. “A birthday cake.”
“For who?” I racked my brain, wondering whose special day I’d forgotten. I’d absolutely be chalking it up to baby brain.
“Poor Sprout! I don’t understand why people don’t celebrate zero-eth birthdays.” Nora smiled fondly at my stomach. “Hey, little one, this is Auntie Nora talking to you! I’m going to bake you a cake!”
I didn’t have a response. I was mostly certain babies couldn’t eat cake, but then again, I sure could. I would never say no to a slice of fresh birthday cake. I’d have to replenish all the calories from the stress of childbirth somehow, and broccoli and potatoes seemed like a much less fun way to do it.
“You’re still trying to pull off that aunt business, huh, Nora?” Meg asked, raising an eyebrow. “How long does that go on for? Until you turn triple digits?”
We rode the rest of the way in icy silence. Nora jerked to a stop outside Chance’s facilities, ignoring Meg. Nora ignored my upper half, as well—the Lacey part of me.
“Goodbye, little one,” Nora said, patting my stomach. “I love you, even when your mother and her friends are being rude.”
