Pregnancy Plan

by Tina Gayle

  Brie rejoined them and set a platter of finger sandwiches on the coffee table. “Marianne, did I hear you say your son heard from Momma Turner’s insurance company?”

  The muscles in Jen’s chest tightened.

  “Yes.” Marianne poured a cup of hot water for Brie and set down the teapot. “Travis hates to be in the dark about anything and checks in with them regularly to see how their suits against all the plaintiffs are going.”

  Jen shifted restlessly on the edge of the couch. Here we go again, another night of discussing the demise of their dead husbands. The smooth flavor of lemon zinger that had tasted so inviting only moments ago, now churned through her stomach. Bitter bile hit her tongue. Disgusted, she abandoned her cup to a nearby end table and sank into the corner of the couch.

  “Plaintiffs? How many are there?” Brie knelt near the coffee table and chose a bright orange packet.

  “Let’s see, there’s the driver, the trucking and repair companies, and even the manufacturer of the brakes.” Marianne counted them off on her fingers.

  “But why sue all those other people? The police have already established the brakes failed.”

  “In the legal arena, you have to sue everyone along the food chain.” Marianne stirred her tea and a soft tinkle rang repeatedly from her cup.

  Jen cringed. The irritating click played against her nerves like a chant from an old comedy. Bring out your dead.

  “Especially the larger companies because they’re the ones with the money,” Sylvia added and lifted a small triangle sandwich to her lips. In the blink of an eye, the dainty treat disappeared. She blotted her fingertips on a napkin and reached for another without any regard for the calories contained in the compact package.

  Jen scanned the appetizing tray and bit back the reason for not having food at these meetings. They always over-indulgenced in emotional eating.

  Brie strolled to her favorite recliner. The tigers’ heads on her slippers bobbed up and down in time with her step and in harmony with Marianne’s spoon. “But I don’t understand. The insurance company had to pay us no matter how our husbands died.”

  “Yes, but they’re trying to recoup their cost. Jack, Craig, Eric, and Bob shouldn’t have died. If the brakes had worked, the truck wouldn’t have flattened their car and killed our husbands.” Marianne’s tense voice held a trace of anger and her gaze a spark of malice.

  Without meaning to, Jen envisioned an eighteen-wheeler squashing a mid-size car. The pancake remains flashed in her head, before the muscles in her neck and shoulders throbbed with pain. She lifted her hand to rub the ache but changed direction and eased forward to pet George where he lay on the floor instead. “Did Travis learn anything new?”

  “Not really. The trucker is on suspension and the other companies are still filing information with the court.” Marianne rested her spoon on the coffee table, giving Jen’s nerves a much needed reprieve. “It’ll be several months before the case goes to trial.”

  “Then we shouldn’t worry about it at the moment.” Jen glided one last stroke along George’s smooth coat and straightened. Her heart beat heavily in her chest and her palms grew sweaty. If she didn’t tell them soon about her decision to start dating again, they’d run off on another tangent concerning their husbands.

  She drew in a deep breath and blurted out, “I’m moving on with my life.”

  Waiting for a comment, she charted the slow descent of Marianne’s cup to her lap. A second later, Sylvia shifted forward and grabbed another sandwich from the platter. Brie offered a weak smile.

  “Want to explain?” Marianne retrieved her spoon.

  Squaring her shoulders, Jen drew in a fortifying breath. Each of the other women had been in a loving relationship. They didn’t know about the year she’d lived in a house with a man who bore the title of her husband, but not her lover.

  “First, I’m not talking about anything related to Craig’s death. I loved him.” She twisted her hands together and shifted to the edge of the couch. “But I have to move on and...the best way to do that is by finding someone new.”

  “What?” Sylvia jumped from the couch. Tea splashed on her sweater and she dropped her sandwich. Animosity tightened Sylvia’s lips and lines of anger popped out across her forehead. “You can’t. It’s wrong. Craig’s only been dead for a few months.”

  The over-exuberant display of emotions shocked Jen and she froze. What the...

  “Easy, honey. If you’re not careful you’ll burn yourself.” Marianne rose beside Sylvia and grabbed her cup. “Look, you’ve already spilled some on your sweater.”

  Brie rushed forward and gathered a few napkins. “Here.” She shoved several in Sylvia’s hand and stared at the spot.

  Uncertain what to do, Jen stood. George, next to her, his warm body nestled against her leg, kept her from drifting forward. They didn’t understand because she’d never revealed the marital problems she and Craig had experienced. She couldn’t, not now, maybe not ever.

  Sylvia’s gaze swung between Marianne and Brie. “But didn’t you hear what Jen said? She wants to go out with another man.”

  “Yes.” Brie touched Sylvia’s arm. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “But?” Sylvia turned to Marianne. “But how can she even think about...” Tears filled her eyes. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand, then shook her head and rushed passed Jen to the hall bathroom.

  Sylvia’s misery hit Jen. These women had stood beside her during the toughest time in her life and she had unwittingly hurt them. A backwash of guilt drowned her. How could she cause them such pain?

  Maybe, she should have kept her plans to herself.

  Brie paused in front of Jen and briefly touched her arm. “Don’t worry. She’ll come around. You just caught her unprepared.”

  The silent understanding in Brie’s smile helped relieve some of the tension in Jen’s chest. “I’m sorry, but I can’t grieve for Craig for the rest of my life. I need...”

  The frustration of the past year exploded through her, and Jen stomped her foot. “Hell, we all need to move on.”

  “Some of us need more time.” Brie held up a finger. “I’ll be right back and then we’ll discuss it.”

  Jen dropped onto the couch and lifted her hand to caress George’s coat. He shimmied away and strolled across the room.

  After a quick sniff, he wolfed Sylvia’s forgotten sandwich off the floor. He turned and meandered back to Jen. His brown eyes twinkled and his mouth held a happy smile. She couldn’t ruin his pleasure by scolding him, so she closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers across her forehead. The light pounding of a headache beat insistently against her brow.

  What had made her think they would understand?

  Silence filled the room, the tension interrupted only by the light ticking noise of Marianne stirring her tea. The sound tap-danced on Jen’s nerves and she peered at the woman.

  Marianne sat staring into space, a perplexed expression on her face. After pulling her spoon from her cup, she laid the utensil on her napkin-covered thigh. “How can you forget a lifetime of love?”

  “I won’t forget, but I still need to move forward.” Jen retrieved her tea and sipped the now lukewarm liquid. Hell, it was just a date.

  Yet if they needed more grieving time, she should probably leave and let them carry on in peace.

  Sylvia stepped back into the room from the hallway. “But you’re dishonoring Craig’s memory.”

  “How? Because I don’t want to spend every night alone?” Jen snapped.

  Sylvia grabbed her chest.

  “Ouch.” Brie wrapped her arm around Sylvia’s waist and they strolled across the living room to Sylvia’s empty seat. The older woman settled back into her place on the couch while Brie perched on the arm. “I couldn’t go out on a date even if I wished to. The only men I ever see are at the grocery store. They’re friendly in a grandfatherly sort of way.

  As the only one in the group who worked outside of the home, Jen m
et scores of people all day long. Most weren’t single, or even worth her attention, but Hagan was—so hot. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans. Any woman would notice him wherever she happened to see him—grocery store, library, coffee shop. “That’s because you don’t work with the public. I happened to show several houses today to a very nice-looking man.”

  “And he asked you out?” Marianne’s soft-spoken question hung in the air.

  Jen stared out the window behind the three women, unsure how to proceed. A picture of Hagan Cheney’s hazel eyes and wide smile flashed in her head. Tall, with the muscular body of an athlete, he reminded her a little of Craig. “Yes.”

  “What does he do? Where does he live?” Brie crossed to the table where her tea stood. The prying questions reminded Jen of her sisters. They’d bombarded her with questions about ever guy she’d ever dated.

  Jen forced herself to relax and drifted back to the corner of the couch. “He’s a chiropractor and lives somewhere off Dodge at the moment, but he wants a house to convert into an office in the older part of a small town.” Jen ventured a glance at the other two women in the room, and immediately regretted looking.

  Sylvia gawked at Jen as if she’d been sucker punched. Marianne didn’t appear much better. A frown marred her face, and to Jen’s horror, she retrieved her spoon. The irritating ticking started again.

  Jen scrambled through her brain for something to pacify them. Over the last few months, they had counted on each other for support—like they were a part of Jen’s family or her best friends, and she didn’t have many friends. She didn’t look forward to losing them. But the idea of hurting them again didn’t sit well either. “He’s a nice guy. I think Craig would have even liked him.”

  “And when are you going out?” Sylvia’s sorrow presented a picture of total desolation. She held herself tightly in place with a white-knuckled grip while her tear-filled gaze met Jen’s.

  Unable to inflict anymore pain on the woman, Jen pushed to the edge of the couch and stood. “I appreciate everything…”

  “No, you can’t leave.” Brie lunged forward and grabbed Jen’s arm. “Not with my parents demanding I move back to Florida.”

  Jen turned and the crest-fallen distress on Brie’s face registered.

  Holy smoke, what now?

  Brie’s parents couldn’t make her move unless she wanted to.

  George, excited by the exchange, rushed forward and bumped into Brie.

  She swayed on her feet.

  Jen caught her by the shoulders. “But I thought they understood that you didn’t want to relocate the kids while they were still in school.”

  “They did. Until I told them I’m pregnant.”