“I get one a day. That’s what my doctor said.” She gives me a look. “Don’t judge.”
“How was the doctor?” I ask. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. Six weeks and counting.”
“I can’t believe you have to carry that around for six more weeks.”
“Dude. Did you just say I’m fat?”
Shit. Not used to pregnant ladies! “No! I’m just…I can’t imagine it. Being pregnant and just…all the things. You look fantastic. I mean, I think you looked better in your bikini the other day than I did.”
&
nbsp; She rolls her eyes. “Stop. I think you look better this year than last. You’re a little curvier. Softer. The guys like that, you know. I think Bobby likes me big and pregnant. I swear he’s sniffing around me like a hound dog.”
I knew what my boys liked—but yeah, if last night with Justin was any testimony, he liked something to hold onto.
Anita’s eyes narrow. “What are you thinking about?”
I shrug and take a sip of my coffee.
“Don’t think I didn’t see Justin’s Jeep at your place last night.”
“Ugh.” Suspicions confirmed. I raise an eyebrow. “Spying?”
“Duh, obviously.”
“He’s showing me townie stuff. Last night we went to The Camp.”
“Ohhh, really? You know that’s where Bobby proposed to me.”
“At the skate park?” I try not to sound too judgmental. Trying, so hard.
“Yeah, it was really sweet, like something out of some indie teen movie.” She looks down at the small diamond on her slightly puffy hands. “What’d you think?”
“It was fun. I had no idea it was back there. We saw the girls that work at the boutique next door—Isabel and Jessica?”
Anita waves her hand in a passing motion. “No surprise. Justin wasn’t lying when he said it was a townie hangout.”
“And some guy named Avery.”
“Oh god, Avery was there?” She brushes her hair out of her eyes. “Some things never change. That dude is too old to be trolling the Camp.”
“Well, he’s a huge fan of Mom’s. He said he was going to bring a book by for her to sign.”
“Huh,” she says, walking to the front of the store. It’s time to open. “Who knew Avery can read? And non-fiction, at that.”
Since we don’t have a toddler group or anything specific planned, Anita buckles down to add some new books to the computerized inventory list, and I spend the morning in Mom’s office sorting through the mail. It takes a while to work out the sorting system, but after a while I get the hang of it. I also find myself lost in the letters sent to my mother.
Dear Ms. Barnes,
Your book Scars From a Killer struck a chord with me. My sister Amelia was murdered fifteen years ago…
Dear Ms. Barnes,
Your courage to share your story and reveal the horrors of living with being a survivor has made me confront my own past as a victim of violent crime…
Dear Julia,