Trent jumped onto the lift of the moving truck and released the latch for the roll-up door. Megan put a hand over her eyes and squinted, trying to block out the blinding morning sun. They’d finally made it to Riverton well past their projected arrival time last night and had decided to hold off on unloading things until this morning.
The door slid into the ceiling, and they both stared at the piano. It sat in front of the other boxes and furniture, blocking everything else. They’d have to move the piano into the house first, just like Megan had wanted. But it was bulky. And heavy. She should’ve thought that part through better.
“How are we going to move that by ourselves?” Megan asked.
Trent grunted in response, unwinding straps from the flat dolly. “We’ll get it on here, and you can help me guide it out of the truck.”
“We’ll break our backs,” Megan said.
“Hello?” A man in jeans and a University of Utah Law hoodie peered into the truck. He was tall and slim, with dark hair and a clean-shaven face. A woman, also tall and slender, stood next to him, her wild red-orange hair pulled up in a ponytail with curly tendrils escaping every which way.
“I’m Gary Vincent from next door,” he said. “This is my wife, Christina. You must be our new neighbors.”
Trent hopped out of the truck and brushed a hand on his jeans before extending it toward Gary. “Sure are. I’m Trent Burke, and this is my wife, Megan. Happy to meet you.”
Christina held up a loaf of bread, so fresh it still steamed inside the bag. “We made banana bread for breakfast and had extra. Do you need any help unpacking?”
Megan closed her eyes and sent a quick thank you heavenward. “We would really appreciate any help you can give us. That bread looks amazing. Thank you.”
Gary pointed to the piano and pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll see if I can scrounge up a few neighbors to help with that.”
By the time they each ate a slice of banana bread, there were four men in their driveway, ready to help. Megan couldn’t stop smiling. She liked this neighborhood already.
With a lot of grunts and a few curses, the men managed to haul the piano into the house. It fit along the wall of the front room perfectly. The bay window opposite illuminated the space with a soft light that would make reading sheet music a dream.
“It’s perfect.” Megan gave Trent a quick kiss. “Already this place feels more like home.”
Once most of the boxes were unloaded, Christina and Megan left the heavy furniture to the men and went inside to start unpacking. “Where do you want to start?” Christina asked.
Megan looked around the front room, overwhelmed by all the boxes. “Um, maybe the kitchen. I’ll feel a lot better once we have dishes in cupboards.”
“I know what you mean. The kitchen is my sanctuary. I love to bake.”
Megan stared at Christina’s slender figure with a raised eyebrow. “How on earth do you stay thin?”
The tips of Christina’s ears pinked. “I do Pilates, and we eat mostly organic, but I think a lot of it’s good genes. I’ve never struggled with weight.”
Megan slapped her own ample hip. “Yeah, me either.”
Christina smiled uncomfortably. Time to change the subject.
Megan picked a box and set it on the kitchen counter, pulling off the packing tape. “So, how long have you lived in Riverton?”
“Almost a year.” Christina opened a box filled with plates and silverware. “How about I unpack boxes so you can put things where you want them?”
“Sounds like a plan. Do you like the area?”
Christina nodded. “There are a lot of good people here, mostly young families or couples just starting out. Have you and Trent been married long?”
“Five and a half years. What about you guys?”
“We’re coming up on five years this summer.” Christina finished unloading the box and placed it, now empty, on the kitchen floor. “Do you have children? I haven’t seen any around.”
Megan had known the question would come up, but it still stabbed like a knife. She wanted so badly to be able to say “yes.” To pull out her cell phone and bore Christina to tears with a dozen pictures. “No kids yet. We’ve been trying for years, but it hasn’t happened.”
Christina’s hands stilled, then slowly removed glasses from the box once more. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy. I should know as well as anyone how annoying that question is. Gary and I don’t have children yet either. We’ve been focusing on our careers, and the timing hasn’t been right.”
Megan shrugged. “You didn’t know.”
“Do you mind if I ask what the problem is?”
“Of course not. Trent and I are pretty much an open book.” Megan smiled, hoping Christina could see she was being genuine. “I have PCOS—polycystic ovarian syndrome. Basically my hormones are completely unbalanced, and I don’t ovulate without fertility medication. It has lots of fun symptoms like inability to lose weight, insane sugar cravings, and struggling to get pregnant.” And it had a lot of embarrassing ones she avoided mentioning, like excessive facial hair growth and acne. “Trent has a low sperm count too.”
“I’m sorry.” Christina looked like she wanted to cry.
“We’re dealing with it.”
Christina shifted, tugging at the packing tape on a box. “Gary and I want kids one day, but he just got out of law school and is trying to get established. And I really love teaching elementary school.”
“That’s great. What grade do you teach?”
“First.”
“I saw a poster on a telephone pole for a book drive. Is that your school?”
“Yeah. I’m in charge, actually. A woman from church is helping me out by collecting the books during the day.”
“I’d love to help, if you still need people.”
Christina raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. We were very involved with our church and community in Logan, and I’d love to do the same here.”
“That would be great. I’ll need help sorting the books once Kyra’s collected them all. Um, I don’t think this is kitchen stuff.” Christina pulled a DVD case out of the box, examining it. “You guys are Criminology fans?”
“Oh yeah. We own all the seasons.”
“Gary mentioned he’s interested in watching this show.” Christina set the DVD in the box. “Where should I put this?”
“I’ll put it in the living room.” Megan grabbed season one of Criminology out of the box. “Here, you guys borrow it. We’ll swap for season two when you’re done.”
Christina took the DVD case hesitantly. “You won’t miss it?”
“Not at all.” And now they’d get to talk again when Christina brought the DVDs back.
By one o’clock, the truck was unloaded, and Megan and Trent shooed everyone away to enjoy their Saturday. Christina and Gary suggested getting together soon, and Megan hoped it wasn’t just one of those polite things people said but didn’t really mean.
Trent and Megan worked feverishly the rest of the day. By two a.m., they had managed to unpack all the essentials and called it quits.
“It’s starting to feel like home,” Megan told Trent as they lay in bed in the dark.
Trent leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. “Home is wherever you are. I love you.”
She smiled, snuggling in closer. “I love you too. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”
“Babe, are you ready to go?”
Christina looked up from her magazine and glanced at the kitchen clock. Right on time. Gary had gone into the office for a few hours after church, but had assured her he’d be home by three. “Give me five minutes,” Christina said, setting aside the magazine.
Gary placed his iPad on the counter. “I don’t want to listen to my mother complain if we’re late for dinner.”
Neither did Christina. But Elauna would insist they were late even if they showed up fifteen minutes early. “I just need to bo
x this up.” Christina motioned to the apple pie cooling on the counter. It was made from all organic ingredients, with no refined sugars or processed foods. She had spent most of the afternoon on it, and it looked beautiful. Perfect, in her book.
Elauna would find something wrong with it, Christina was sure. The latticing lay crooked. The outer edge of the crust was crisper than she liked. Elauna was in the mood for cherry pie, and Christina had made apple.
“Okay, well hurry. I’m going to use the restroom, and then I’m ready to go.” Gary looked down at Christina’s jeans. “You’re putting your dress on, right?”
Christina sighed and gave a “really?” eyebrow raise. They’d spent nearly every Sunday dinner with his parents since their dating days. She knew how this worked.
Ten minutes later they were in the Lexus and were pulling out of the driveway. “How was work?” Christina asked as they drove toward the mountain bench in Draper, where Gary’s parents lived.
“Good.” He didn’t elaborate. Christina knew he wouldn’t, but it seemed rude not to ask, so they played out the same conversation every day.
“So . . .” Christina wasn’t sure how to bring up what she really wanted to talk about. They had successfully avoided bringing up anything important all weekend, namely their fight. They’d discussed the Burkes last night (they were nice) and today’s church services over lunch (the sermon had been pleasant, and they were happy to see the Burkes attend). They had run out of small talk, and the elephant in the room was driving Christina nuts. She decided there was nothing to do but dive in. “Have you thought any more about what we discussed on Friday?”
Gary sighed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel at exactly ten and two o’clock. “Now isn’t the best time to discuss this. We’ll be at my parents’ in twenty minutes.”
She wouldn’t let him put her off any longer. “You said we’d talk about it yesterday, and we never did. I think I should make an appointment with my gynecologist so we can go in for some tests. Maybe this has something to do with my painful periods.”
Gary’s jaw clenched. Christina was getting nowhere fast. “You said yourself it can take a few months after you go off the shot for things to go back to normal. So really, if you take that into account, it hasn’t been a year since we started trying to get pregnant.”
“I think there’s something wrong with me.” Christina said it quietly, hoping if she didn’t act angry, he wouldn’t get more upset. “I want to know what we’re dealing with. If there is a problem, we can take it from there. Don’t you want to know?”
His knuckles were white now. “Not really. I’m still trying to get used to the idea of being a father. I don’t think I can handle the thought of not being one.”
That did it. She slammed her hand on the dashboard with a crack, causing Gary to swerve.
“What the crap, Christina? We almost wrecked.”
“‘What the crap’ to you too. First you make this huge romantic gesture, telling me you’re ready to be a father. Then you tell me you’ve felt nothing but relief I’m not pregnant yet. And now you tell me you actually want kids and don’t want to find out if something’s wrong?” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to make of you these days. You are the biggest contradiction I’ve ever seen in my entire life. And I teach six-year-olds!”
“I want to wait a few more months,” Gary said, his lips tight. “We’ve waited almost five years. What’s a little longer?”
They had waited five years. That was part of the problem.
Christina folded her arms. “It’s a big deal to me.”
“Let’s not talk about this anymore. We don’t want to upset Sunday dinner with things like infertility.”
“I have a better idea. How about we don’t talk at all?”
“Christina . . .”
She focused on the scenery outside her window.
Gary sighed. “Please don’t be like this.”
She pursed her lips and refused to answer.
The rest of the drive passed in uncomfortable silence. The car wound up the peaceful neighborhood streets of the bench, a sharp contradiction to the mood inside the vehicle. Guilt gnawed at Christina for being petty—the silent treatment wasn’t exactly mature—but she refused to apologize. Gary was wrong. They needed to see a doctor. Why didn’t he understand?
An intimidatingly large wrought-iron gate had the name “Vincent” scrolled in intricate, swirling letters across the top. Gary rolled down his window and entered the security code, then drove down the long driveway to the sprawling Vincent mansion. They walked up to the massive solid wood doors and rang the bell.
“Please don’t make things awkward,” Gary said. “I don’t want to get into this with my parents.”
Christina gave him a scathing look but didn’t reply. As if she would ever discuss anything substantial with the Vincents. It was best to be fake and skim the surface of life with them.
“Christina, Gary, why don’t you have children yet?”
“Well, Elauna, Gary and I might be infertile. We’re not sure since he refuses to go to the doctor.”
“Oh my! Don’t let the ladies at the country club know. I couldn’t handle the humiliation. I always knew there was something wrong with you, Christina.”
Yeah. She wasn’t about to have that conversation.
The door swung open, revealing Elauna dressed in an expensive designer suit. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” she said. Her smirk, too wide and filled with unnaturally white teeth, screamed Botox.
Christina plastered on her fakest smile and followed Gary inside.
“We’re ten minutes early, Mom,” he said.
Elauna hung up their coats and waved her hands dismissively. “It’s no matter. Dinner’s warming in the oven.” Since the staff had Sundays off, the cook always made something Elauna could easily heat up.
“I’ll put the pie in the kitchen,” Christina said.
“Nonsense, I can do it.” Elauna grabbed the pie and lifted the lid of the box to look inside. “Oh no. Apple pie.”
Christina gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry, is that not okay?”
“Oh, it’s fine, dear. I meant to call and ask you to bring a chocolate cake. Looks like you burned the crust, but I’m sure it’ll still taste fine.”
Christina wanted to rip that smile right off Elauna’s spray-tanned face.
“I asked her to make an apple pie, Mom.” Gary placed a hand at the small of Christina’s back. “I’ve been craving one all week.”
“Hmmm. Your father’s in the living room. Go in, and I’ll take this to the kitchen. I have something for you.”
Not another one. It took monumental effort for Christina to keep her shoulders from sagging. She should’ve guessed. They just returned from their cruise to Alaska, after all.
In the living room, Alexander reclined in an easy chair, the Sunday paper held out in front of him.
“Hello, Dad,” Gary said.
“You’re late.” Alexander rose and shook both of their hands. “Your mother was starting to worry.”
Elauna rounded the corner and held out a box, wrapped in shiny white paper with crisp lines and an unnaturally perfect bow. “Here it is.”
Crap.
Christina forced herself to smile as she took the box. “That’s so nice of you, Elauna. You didn’t have to get us anything.” She slid a finger under the tape and the tiniest rip appeared in the wrapping paper. Christina froze. Had Elauna noticed? No. She was too busy frowning at Gary.
“It’s not for you,” Elauna said. “It’s for the grandchildren.”
Christina gritted her teeth and purposefully aggravated the tear in the paper. Gary glanced at her, his eyes warning.
Alexander snorted from behind his paper. “If you’re this bad before the grandkids are even born, Elauna, you’ll bankrupt us when the children are actually here.”
Christina turned the box around to work on the other corner. She put her nail underneath th
e tape and yanked. Another rip.
“Careful, Christina,” Elauna said. “If you attack my gift like that, I’ll think you don’t like it.”
“Sorry.”
Gary sat close to Christina, his arm around her back, just as expected. “She’s overly eager to see what you’ve given us.”
“Of course I am.” Christina pulled the rest of the wrapping paper free and lifted the lid off the box. Nestled in satin lay the most beautiful stuffed polar bear she had ever seen. She pulled it from the box with trembling hands. It was pure white, and softer than a feather. In its hands it held a cut-out of Alaska with the state name across it. How many more stuffed animals could they cram into the office closet before the doors would no longer close?
“Thank you,” Christina said, proud her voice remained steady. “It’s beautiful.”
“We love it,” Gary added.
“And so will the baby,” Elauna said. “How long are you going to make me wait before I’m a grandmother? Some of my friends already have grandchildren starting kindergarten.”
“And how was Alaska?” Gary asked, his voice strained.
Alexander snapped the paper shut, giving Gary his full attention. “Highly successful. I was able to get everything cleared up with the Jorgensen account.”
“Must we talk shop on Sunday?” Elauna sat down across from Christina and Gary, hands clasped in her lap. “I want to have a frank discussion with my son and his wife. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought lately, and I really think you two are shirking your duties as a couple.”
Here we go. Time to buckle up for a bumpy ride.
“Mother,” Gary began, but Elauna held up a hand and cut him off.
“I have been buying you stuffed animals for nearly three years now in the hopes you would get the hint.”
“Last I checked, stuffed animals aren’t what makes a baby,” Alexander said. Christina choked back surprised laughter.
Elauna ignored her husband. “Every place we go, I seek out the perfect stuffed animal for my grandchild. But eighty-seven stuffed animals—”
Eighty-nine, Christina thought. There were now eighty-nine stuffed animals.
“—later, you two aren’t getting the hint. You are my only chance at grandchildren, and I would like to see them before I die.”
Chasing Someday Page 4
