Cold As January

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Cold As January Page 7

by Katie Graykowski


  “I don’t know about the vultures, but your house won’t always be wall-less. Your child has two uncles who will be his father figure, plus so many aunts the baby will have to fight us off with a big stick. I know how you feel about the loveless part. I’ve loved lots of men; unfortunately, they didn’t love me back. How about we promise each other that if we don’t find someone by retirement age, we move in together, bar the windows against vultures, and become angry old ladies.” She patted January’s back. “We can yell at the neighbors for walking on our lawn and letting their huge dog poop on our grass.”

  “We can evil-eye the next-door neighbor’s kid for parking his bike over the property line.” January smiled and let go of her friend. The tears had stopped. “We can turn in our neighbors for watering their lawn on the wrong day. We’ll be two bitter old ladies committed to making the world around us as unhappy as we are. If those vultures come near our house, we’ll shoot them.”

  “Turning in off-day lawn waterers is big business in mi abuela’s neighborhood. She makes fifty dollars every time she turns one in. That definitely supplements her social security,” Nina said. “We’ll take two-year-old coupons to the grocery store and harass the cashier into taking them. We’ll leave our porch light on for Halloween and then hand out toothbrushes and dental floss instead of candy.”

  January mopped her face with her sleeve. “We’ll argue over the price of deli meat because that piece of paper they put the meat on weighs at least an ounce and we’re on a fixed income and we’re not paying for that paper.”

  “Yeah. We’ll buy a huge old Cadillac and triple park it in regular parking places while we clearly display our handicap tags so the world knows that we could have parked in our designated space, but we’re a couple of mean bitches who took up nonhandicapped parking.” Nina nodded. “This could be fun.”

  “We’ll go to the movies and insist on the Tuesday senior discount price on a Thursday.” January snapped her fingers. “We’ll go to funerals of people we don’t know and during the share-your-favorite-story time we’ll tell everyone that we met the deceased in a Mexican prison.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Nina held her hand up for a high five. “I like it.”

  January slapped her friend’s hand. “We can wear fake pregnancy bellies to the mall and tell everyone we’re on the pregnant senior wrestling circuit.”

  “You’re disturbingly good at this.” Nina looped her arm through January’s. “You’re not going to be alone, because I won’t let you. Sorry about the whole Depression era cannibal story. You know I can’t lie at the drop of a hat. I need time to plan my lies and memorize the backstory that goes along with them.”

  “Spontaneous lying is a skill. It takes years to prefect. It’s not your fault.” January put her hand over her heart. “I’m a terrible friend. I should have been coaching you all of these years.”

  Nina smiled. “We can start working on it soon. For now, it sounds like we need to go shopping for maternity clothes.”

  “The thought actually makes me nauseous, but I can’t keep on pretending that my clothes still fit.” January’s stomach rumbled. “Baby J is hungry.”

  “At least you’re having a baby. That doesn’t look like it’s going to happen for me.” Nina shook her head. “I got a spam email about donating my eggs. The cutoff age is thirty. At thirty-five, my eggs are officially expired.” She sighed long and hard. “I need a chocolate chip cookie.”

  January could almost feel Baby J kicking her in the ribs. “Baby J is raising his or her hand. Tiff’s Treats?”

  “I’ll drive.” That was good, because Nina drove at Mach 1.

  January could use a little chocolate chip cookie love right about now.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  * * *

  January was willing to admit that maternity clothes were more comfortable than what she had been wearing. Now she didn’t have to tug her pants up every two minutes. She sipped on a bottle of water as she and Nina made their way to Nina’s car. They’d hit every store in Barton Creek Mall that might have maternity clothes after clearing Tiff’s Treats out of chocolate chip cookies.

  “I hope all of these bags fit in your car.” Before long, January wasn’t sure she’d be able to fit in Nina’s car.

  “What are you talking about? There’s plenty of trunk space.” Nina pulled her keys out of her purse and clicked the car alarm off.

  “You have a trunk?” January scanned Nina’s car.

  “Of course I do.” She put the key in the trunk’s lock and opened it.

  January glanced at it. “It’s really more of an alcove than a trunk.” She loaded the bags into the alcove. Half of them fit. “Where do I put the others?”

  Slowly, Nina turned to look at her. “Really?” She took the remaining bags and shoved them in the trunk and closed the door really fast. “See, they all fit.”

  “Thank God I didn’t buy anything breakable.” Hummel figurines wouldn’t have survived Nina’s trunk. Then again, if she were big into the Hummels, she probably wouldn’t be friends with Nina.

  “Stop whining, it’s not a good look for you.” Nina opened the driver’s-side door and slid behind the wheel. “Outdoor bathroom, good or bad?”

  January slid into the passenger’s seat. “Good. It’s nice.” She loved her hidden bathroom—only, she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be so charming at 2:00 a.m. when she had to pee.

  “How’s the hot water situation? Are we talking just enough for a quick shower or can you fill up that clawfoot tub and soak for hours?” Nina roared out of the parking lot and onto Loop 360. She just made the light and gunned it to get onto MoPac North.

  “Why? Is your grandmother trying to fix you up with her bingo buddies’ grandsons again? Looking for a new place to live?” Having a roommate might be fun.

  “Not exactly. We’re having an impromptu sleepover at your house tonight. We need to get acquainted with your ghost, and we have some concerns about the hot water situation.”

  “The hot water is instant on, so it’s unlimited, and I can’t wait to figure out who’s still living in my house. According to the former owners, it’s a malevolent spirit, but I haven’t seen that. Honestly, I’d be pretty upset if someone Futro-ed my house. I think the spirit has a right to its malevolence.”

  “What they did to that poor house was pretty horrible.” Nina floored it and sped around a beat-up white work truck. “Laney’s on research. She thinks she may have found something.”

  “Awesome.” January adjusted in her seat. She really liked her new maternity jeans. They were so comfortable, and they didn’t squish Baby J.

  Nina’s phone vibrated with a text. She nodded toward her purse on the passenger’s-side floor. “Can you check that?”

  January unzipped the front pocket of Nina’s red Coach purse and pulled out the phone. The message read, Okay if I invite Sweet Louise to the sleepover? It was from Laney.

  “Laney wants to know if she can invite her soon-to-be mother-in-law to the sleepover,” January said. “I’m going to say yes. I love Sweet Louise. Maybe we can talk her into bringing food.”

  She texted Laney back.

  “I love her too.” Nina grinned. “When I grow up, I want to be Sweet Louise Harding.”

  “Me too. I wish she was going to be my mother-in-law.” January’s nose wrinkled. “Only, I think of her son, Devon, as a brother, so that would be weird.”

  “I feel the same way.” Nina cut over two lanes and took the First Street exit at the very last possible second.

  Riding with Nina just might have been more hazardous to her baby’s health than skydiving or playing with dynamite. It was time to never ride with Nina again. “I vote we have Sweet Louise adopt us. Is it possible to adopt adults? Baby J would become Baby H.” She nodded. “I’m okay with that. She makes the best baby back ribs I’ve ever tasted.” Baby J yanked on the umbilical cord like he or she was ringing the bell for dinner service at Downton Abbey. Her stoma
ch growled.

  “You can’t be hungry again. We ate like thirty minutes ago.” Nina turned onto January’s street.

  “I can’t help it. Baby J says ribs sound like a good idea. And some of Sweet Louise’s potato salad. Before I tasted hers, I didn’t like potato salad. Food tastes so good now.” She didn’t even like cherry tomatoes, and since she’d gotten pregnant she’d eaten a ton of them. Baby J yanked on the umbilical cord again. He or she wanted a side of ribs with the tomatoes pronto.

  “Is it rude to invite her and tell her what to bring?” January didn’t really care; she was just asking to be polite. She was totally texting Sweet Louise and asking for ribs and potato salad and any cherry tomatoes she might have lying around.

  “I don’t think Sweet Louise will mind. I wonder how long it takes to cook ribs?” Nina pulled up in front of January’s house. “We should give her as much cooking time as possible.”

  “Agreed.” January worked her phone out of her back jeans pocket. She should have bought these maternity jeans weeks ago. They weren’t quite as comfortable as her pajama jeans, but they were close. She texted Sweet Louise.

  Sweet Louise hit her back right away. Bringing ribs, potato salad, green beans, cream corn, tomatoes from my greenhouse, and chocolate pie.

  January thumb typed, I love you. Will you adopt me?

  Sweet Louise texted back, I love you back. I’ll consider adoption since you’re about to give me a grandchild.

  “She’s willing to consider adopting me because I’m about to give her a grandchild. You’re going to have to step up your game if you want to be a Harding.” January was pretty sure Nina was out of luck.

  “If she adopts me, she gets free flights anywhere American Airlines flies. I think that’s pretty nice.” She grinned. “I’d adopt me.”

  “For free airfare, I’d adopt you.” January held up an index finger. “Doesn’t family have to fly standby?”

  “Details.” Nina hopped out of the car and went around to the trunk. “Do you have a chest of drawers or a dresser or something? It occurs to me that you probably don’t have anywhere to store all of these new clothes.”

  January waved it off. “I’ll figure something out.”

  She lumbered out of the car and didn’t even have to tug her pants up. Yep, maternity clothes were a very good idea.

  “I’ll get the bags.” Bru ran down the front steps and grabbed the bags out of Nina’s hands. “Did you really need all of this stuff?”

  “She’s female. We like a lot of stuff … especially shoes.” Nina turned to January. “We didn’t get you any maternity shoes.”

  “Maternity shoes?” Bru spoke to Nina, which was something January had noticed he usually went out of his way to avoid doing.

  “Yes, ugly comfortable shoes. High heels should be forbidden due to the risk of back problems and the possibility of tripping over your own feet and landing on the baby.” Nina sounded like she knew what she was talking about, but January knew bullshit when she heard it.

  “Is that true?” Bru didn’t wait for an answer. “No high heels for you.”

  January rolled her eyes. Her brothers took overprotection to a smothering level. “Pregnant women have been walking in high heels since cave women figured out a way to tie a rock to the back of a piece of tree bark. I’ll be fine.” She never wore heels, but she wasn’t about to let him think he could lay down the law.

  “No heels, I mean it,” Bru commanded.

  She only had one pair of heels. They were dyed pale pink and she’d worn them as a bridesmaid in her college roommate’s wedding, but she was going to dust them off and strut around in them later.

  When it came to a man telling her what to do, the opposite of his command was her wish.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  * * *

  “Honey, I don’t sleep on the floor.” Sweet Louise Harding stood on January’s front step and pointed to the huge moving van pulling up to the curb. “That’s Armando. He’s here to set up the beds. He’s also setting up a makeshift outdoor kitchen with a fridge, ice maker, and a grill.”

  “But we don’t technically have water running to the house.” January thumbed in the general direction of the backyard. She leaned in close and whispered, “It’s okay, though. We borrowed the neighbor’s water and sewer lines.”

  “Good. I’ll tell Armando. He’s a miracle worker. But first …” Sweet Louise stepped around January and into the house. “Let me see what we’re dealing with.” She turned around and popped her head out of the open front doorway. “Y’all wait and unload the food after Armando sets up the kitchen.”

  “What kitchen?” Bru stepped into the front entryway. His eyes found Sweet Louise and his mouth dropped open. She had that effect on men of all ages.

  “The temporary one I’m having set up in the backyard.” Sweet Louise added some extra Mississippi molasses to her voice and batted her eyelashes. Charming men was a talent that seemed to be in her DNA.

  “Okay.” Bru couldn’t stop staring.

  “I could use a big strong man like you to help me unload the food from my car.” She slipped a hand around his elbow. “We’re having a ladies-only slumber party here tonight, but I’ll fix you up a plate of food to go. First, I need for you to show me the house.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Bru led her down the front hall.

  January had never heard Bru call anyone ma’am.

  She’d love to see Giles take on Sweet Louise. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “I’m trying to talk her into showing me how she does it.” Laney walked up the steps to the front porch. “After turning me down a million times, she finally told me she’ll think about it. She says that since I already have total control over her son, learning how to manipulate men is just overkill. I disagree. Since I work in a male-dominated field, manipulating men would be helpful.”

  “Think we can get her drunk tonight and make her show us?” January wouldn’t mind knowing how to manipulate her brothers instead of having them manipulate her.

  “Not a chance,” yelled Sweet Louise from somewhere deep in the house.

  She could charm men and had razor-sharp hearing. People had taken over the world with less.

  “How are you feeling today?” Laney put her hand on January’s belly.

  “Pretty good. I’m just hungry all the time.” She wanted to ask about Giles, but that was a bad idea. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “How’s your father?”

  Laney shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him in several weeks. The way he treated you was inexcusable. I no longer talk to him.”

  January wrapped one arm around Laney. She appreciated her friend’s support, but for some reason it made her a little sad. “Don’t let me come between you and your father. I’d give anything if my father was still alive.”

  “Yes, but you and your father enjoyed each other. Your father loved you.” Laney didn’t sound upset, only observational. “I’m not sure my father is capable of love. It makes me sad.”

  “I know what you mean.” January hugged her. “I thought he had the potential, but I was mistaken.” She told herself that she was right about Giles, but a part of her still hoped she wasn’t.

  “I’m sorry he hurt you.” Laney rested her head on January’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry he hurt you too.” January hated that she’d come between Laney and her father. “You should speak to him. I mean it.” She could see his face so clearly. Her soul nearly cried out in pain. “He needs you.”

  “He doesn’t need anyone or anything. He’s perfectly fine all on his own.” The worst part was that Laney truly believed that. “He’s like a copperhead snake.”

  January hated snakes. She was willing to bet she was going to regret it, but she asked anyway, “How?”

  Bru, with Sweet Louise on his arm, rounded the side of the house and walked down the short driveway to her Cadillac sedan.

  “Some female copperhead snakes reproduce a
sexually even when a male is present. It’s called parthenogenesis. They don’t need anyone.”

  January felt the baby move. She wasn’t sure it was Giles who was like the copperhead snake. “That makes me sad and a little grossed out. Giles may have acted a little slimy, but believe it or not, he treated me well when we were together, and we had fun. You may not ever have a close relationship with him, but you should try.” January didn’t want Giles to be alone. She knew from their conversations that he wanted a closer relationship with Laney, but that he didn’t know how to make it happen.

  “I don’t know.” Laney tried to sound like she didn’t care, but she did.

  January wondered if she sounded the same way when she talked about Giles. “Look, I’m being the voice of reason here. It doesn’t happen very often, so you should take my advice.” It didn’t make sense to her, but January wanted Giles to be happy even if his life didn’t involve her. She covered her belly with her hand. “About the asexual part … yeah, we know that’s not the case.”

  Laney gagged. “Sorry, I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. Intellectually I’m okay with you and my dad, but I’m doing my best to not picture the two of you together. Although, I am looking forward to a sibling.”

  A loud crash came from the sidewalk. January shaded her eyes from the sun. The remains of a white casserole dish lay in shards and yellow cream corn oozed into the grass.

  “Shit, her father is the father of your baby.” Bru didn’t yell. He was using his quiet, deadly voice.

  There was no way this was going to end well.

  “Yes.” Laney turned around and faced Bru down. “What are you going to do about it?”

 

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