Age of Aquarius Page 5

  “Tom, I—we—let’s talk about this when we’re clear-headed, all right? But don’t you dare tell anyone, you hear me? I will kill you so dead that you won’t even be able to haunt a house. Got it?”

  He’d laughed that easy-going Tom laugh, kissed my cheek and patted my head. “You got it, Joy-Joy. I’ll take our secret to the grave.”

  And then he’d gone out the door whistling, as though he hadn’t had a care in the world, and maybe he hadn’t. In the two months since, we hadn’t had any time alone. That was more circumstantial than anything else: I had been in the middle of exams, and Tom had been busy with whatever it was he did. Unlike his sister, he’d never settled down to one career. He’d gone to vocational school to be a mechanic, and he was great with cars—he kept my ancient rust heap together—but he seldom kept one job for very long. Norrie would sigh and say he got bored easily.

  I thought about that as I left the bathroom and hurried to my own room, where I finished getting dressed for the day. Tom had been right that morning: neither of us had deep feelings for the other, and I was smart enough to know that it took more than the common bond of parenthood to make a successful relationship. I didn’t have any plans to suggest such a thing to him. But I had to tell him that I was pregnant. It wouldn’t have been fair of me not to give him the chance to know his child.

  Oddly, I had never seriously considered any alternative when it came to my pregnancy. I’d always been staunchly pro-choice, believing that every woman had the right to decide the fate and function of her own body, but when it came to myself, I knew that however inconvenient it was, no matter that being a mom right now was not part of my life plan, I was going to have this baby and keep him or her.

  A psychologist might have suggested that I was acting out of the loss of my own childhood, and that was possible. I’d never known any blood family. This little clump of cells inside me that was making me hurl every morning was the only real relative I had, and there was no way I was giving that up. I’d have to make some adjustments, but I’d figure it out. I always did.

  “Hey, J.” Norrie knocked on my door and then opened it, poking her head inside without waiting for me to respond. “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie? You like the last rose of summer.”

  “Thanks so much. I’m feeling the love.”

  “You know what I mean. I hope you’re not getting that nasty virus that all the kids have been passing around at school.”

  I shook my head. “Nah, I’m just tired. Late night studying.”

  Norrie leaned her back against my door jamb. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends, babe. I know that you want to finish your degree and be done with college, but you don’t want to kill yourself doing it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. And if the guy from the lottery comes around and says I won a million bucks, I’ll be happy to slow down. Until then—”

  “Oh, geez!” Norrie rolled her eyes. “I almost forgot. Some guy did come over yesterday. I meant to tell you, but then you didn’t get home until late.”

  I frowned. “What guy?”

  “He didn’t give me his name, but he said he needed to see you. He said it was very important and that he’d stop back over.” She hugged her arms around her middle. “Honestly, Joy, it was a little creepy. I was glad Joey was here. The dude gave me a little bit of a vibe.”

  “Huh.” I thought of the limited number of men I knew, trying to figure out if any of them would know where I lived. I didn’t date, other than those few friends Tom had introduced to me. And even when I had study groups, we met at the diner or at the library so that I didn’t get in Norrie’s way. “I’m sure it was nothing.”

  “Maybe.” Norrie pushed herself away from the door. “But still. Keep your eyes open, okay? Watch your back.”

  “You know me.” I gathered my hair up, away from my face, and fastened it with an elastic band. “The soul of caution.”

  “Sure, you are.” Norrie stepped closer to me and kissed the top of my head. It was her signature gesture of affection from the time we’d become friends. “I’m heading out. See you tonight?”

  I stood in front of the mirror, focused on pinning the waitress nametag to my T-shirt. “Uh, yeah. I think so. Do you have plans?”

  “Oh, not really. But Tom’s stopping over to say good-bye.”

  I wheeled around and instantly regretted it when my stomach lurched. “Good-bye? What do you mean?”

  “Oh, geez, didn’t I tell you? God, I’ve been such an idiot lately with all this wedding crap. Tom got a job up in Alaska. A real big-boy job, working on trucks or something in Juneau. Apparently, he applied for it, never thinking it would happen, but they hired him, and now he’s heading up there this weekend. He promised he’d come over for one last hangout before he leaves town.”

  “Um, wow.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about this information. On one hand, it made it easier for me; I wouldn’t have to worry about stuff like shared custody or anything if Tom was living in the Great White North. On the other hand, it meant that I was truly going to be doing this—raising a kid—on my own. That was a little bit terrifying.

  “Yeah, I know, right? Our little brother is finally being a grown-up. Who’d have thought it?” She smiled and shrugged. “Anyway, we’ll have some fun tonight before he takes off. I figured we’d just do pizza and beer and chill.”

  I forced a return smile. “That sounds good. I’ll see you then. Have a good day.” I stayed there, the grin frozen on my face, until I heard the door slam shut, at which point I dropped down onto my bed to let both my mind and my stomach settle.

  But time and Doolie’s Diner waited for no man or woman, so eventually, with a groan, I got up and headed for work.

  “Hiya, Joy.” Doolie waved to me from his place in front of the grill. “Good timing. It’s starting to get busy.”

  “Sorry I’m a little late.” I hung up my purse in one of the cubbies lining the short back hallway. “I’m just slow this morning.”

  “Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He studied me with his normal critical eye. “You look a little peaked, hon. Get yourself some coffee before you start hitting the tables.”

  The very thought of coffee threatened the fragile equanimity of my stomach. I tried not to gag. “Thanks, Doolie, but I’m okay.”

  “What, now you don’t like my coffee? You always say mine is the only swill you can enjoy.” He looked faintly insulted, and I felt guilty.

  “Well, um, the thing is . . .” I struggled to think of a good excuse. Lying did not come easily to me, especially when it involved some of my nearest and dearest, of which Doolie was doubtless one. “Uh, when I went for my annual exam, the doctor said my blood pressure is a little high, and he suggested I cut back on caffeine.”

  Doolie’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? But you’re so young. Did he give you medicine or anything?”

  Dang. “No, he said I could probably control it by changing my diet. I’m really okay, Dool. Please don’t worry about me. I’m just going to get to work.”

  “Are you sure? Should you be working so hard, Joy? Maybe you need to take some time off.” His bushy brows drew together, and I felt even worse. Geez Louise, if Doolie was this worried for my health now, I couldn’t imagine what he’d be like when I had to tell him I was pregnant.

  “I’m fine, Doolie. I need the money that all the hard working brings, and even though you might have the best diner in town, you can’t afford to give me paid time off. So let me get to it, huh?” I shot him a saucy wink and tied on my apron, picking up my order pad as I hurried to one of my tables.

  The man who sat in the booth there greeted me with a warm smile, and as I looked at him, I had the strangest sense that I knew him from somewhere else. He had wavy light brown hair that curled just below his ears. The blue eyes that met mine were lit with some sort of inner mirth that made me want to sit down across from him and have a chat.

  “Good morning.” I clicked my pen and held it poised ove
r the pad. “Welcome to Doolie’s. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have coffee to start, please. And then maybe . . .” He ran one finger down the laminated menu. “How about the Belgian waffle with strawberries?”

  “Good choice.” I smiled. “I’ll be right back with your coffee.” I turned a little too fast, apparently, because the room spun for a few seconds. I gripped the top of the adjoining booth and swallowed hard.

  “Hey, there. Sit down.” The man stood up and held my elbow, guiding me to the padded bench across from his own seat. “Take a minute, okay, Joy?”

  At his easy use of my name, my eyes flew to his in alarm before I remembered the name tag pinned to my T-shirt. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just . . . a little dizzy spell.”

  “You should try dry crackers and peppermint tea.” His voice was low. “It’ll help with settling your stomach, and eating a little bit more often will help with the dizziness, too. But don’t worry. It’ll pass before you know it.”

  I jerked my arm away. “What are you talking about? I’m just . . . it’s low blood sugar. Or low blood pressure. Maybe both.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Aha. Sorry about that. I have a friend, and the way your face looked just now reminded me of how she’d get when she was first, uh, expecting. You went white, and I was afraid you were going to tip over.”

  “I’m not . . .” I began to protest and then stopped, blowing out a long breath. Denial was getting to be too great a burden, and if I was going to come clean with both Norrie and Tom tonight, it wasn’t going to hurt to be honest with this stranger. “Okay, yes. I am. Uh, pregnant, I mean.” I gripped his hand and stared into his eyes, my mouth stern as I put on my scary face, the one that struck fear in the hearts of all mortals. Or so I liked to think. “But no one here knows. Actually, no one anywhere knows. So keep it to yourself, okay? I appreciate your concern, but I can’t tell Doolie until I tell . . . other people. And why am I baring my soul to you, anyway?” I stood up. “I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

  I stomped around the counter and over to our coffee station, sloshed coffee into a mug and picked up a small bowl of packaged creamer tubs. Pausing by the window to the kitchen, I called in to Doolie.

  “Can you do me a Belgian with berries, Dool? I’ll be back to grab it in five.”

  “Sure thing, hon.”

  I delivered the coffee and cream to my cryptic customer without a word and went on to greet the older couple who’d just taken their seats at another table.

  Things got busy enough then that I didn’t have time to worry about the waffle man. I dropped off his breakfast, along with butter and syrup, before I focused on my other tables. When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I paused by his table and slapped down the check.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  He’d pushed the empty plate to the center of the table. “I think I’m good, thanks. The waffle was delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

  I snorted. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to Doolie. He lives to hear that people appreciate his ability to pour batter into a hot iron.”

  “Hey, I bet he made the batter, too, didn’t he? The point is, I enjoyed the meal. So thank you, and please thank him.” He cocked his head, regarding me. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable before. I was trying to be helpful. I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.” He sighed. “I often get that stuff wrong. Please forgive me.”

  I glared at him for a solid minute, but he only smiled wider. As much as his perception had thrown me earlier, he didn’t feel threatening. Maybe he was just what he seemed: a nice guy, someone who happened to have noticed that my symptoms pointed in a certain direction. Still, I couldn’t help thinking of Norrie’s comment earlier, about the man who had stopped by the house.

  “Do I know you?” I sounded abrupt and more than a little rude, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  He laughed. “I don’t think you do. But if you’d like to, I can introduce myself. I’m Seth. And you’re Joy, as your nametag tells me. Beautiful name, by the way. It suits you.”

  “Oh, really?” I quirked up an eyebrow. “And you can tell that . . . how? By the kindness I’ve shown this morning? By my cheery nature?” I drummed my fingers on the table. “You didn’t happen to stop by my house yesterday asking for me, did you?”

  Immediately, all the light and humor fled from Seth’s face. “No. No, I didn’t. Why would you ask that? I don’t even know where you live.”

  “Hmmm.” I was still skeptical, but my gut, which had mostly stopped roiling, told me that this dude was legit. “Okay.” I began to move away from the booth again.

  “Joy.” Seth snagged my arm with one gentle hand, stopping me. “I don’t want to alarm you at all, but . . . is someone following you or harassing you in any way? Why did you just ask me that?”

  I tried to shrug off his grip. “It was nothing. My roommate said someone we didn’t know had come by asking for me, and maybe it made me a little suspicious. I’m sorry if I took that out on you.”

  “You need to be careful.” His voice, so laid-back and light before, was intense now. “Be vigilant. Be aware. Don’t take any chances. Do you understand?”

  He didn’t frighten me. His words somehow weren’t at all threatening; on the contrary, they were full of concern and caring, reminding me of Norrie and of my foster mom, Sheila. Both of them had that same nurturing way about them, just as this man did.

  Slowly, I nodded. “Yes. I understand. Do you . . . is there something I should know?”

  “Just that. Keep your eyes open.” He smiled again. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “Okay.”

  “And here you go. Keep the change.” Patting my shoulder, Seth handed me the check along with a fifty-dollar bill and rose to his feet. “I’ll see you soon.”

  By the time I got over the shock of this massive tip—the total for his breakfast had been under ten dollars—Seth was gone.

  Wednesdays were my killer long days. I’d been up early vomiting, of course, and then I’d covered my breakfast shift at the diner before dashing to the college for three of my most challenging classes. As soon as the last one ended, I was back at Doolie’s to wait tables during the dinner hour. By the time I dragged myself home, it felt as though I could feel aches in bones I didn’t even have. My eyes could barely stay open. This wasn’t unusual; Wednesday always wore me out. But since pregnancy had joined the party, it had gotten exponentially worse.

  I pulled into my spot right in front of our apartment, turned off the car and sat there for a minute, gathering myself. Tom’s car was parked next to me, which meant that he was inside with Norrie. And that meant that after I went inside and joined them, I would have to come clean. Spill my guts. Admit that I was knocked up with Tom’s baby, with Norrie’s potential niece or nephew . . . and I had to act like I had a plan for the future, so that Tom would feel all right about moving to Alaska and Norrie wouldn’t freak out on both of us . . . which actually was pretty much a given, because let’s face it, Norrie was going to figure out that I’d had sex with her brother. The pregnancy part was probably going to be a dead giveaway.

  “Cripes!” I dropped my head onto the steering wheel and cursed Jack Daniels. If Tom hadn’t brought over that bottle of booze, we never would’ve gotten jiggy with it, and I wouldn’t be sitting outside in the dark, wishing I were anywhere but here and now.

  “Joy, get ahold of yourself,” I lectured sternly. “You’re twenty-six years old. You’re going to be a mother, for Pete’s sake. Mothers don’t hide in cars in parking lots. They face the music. They’re responsible, and they don’t avoid their friends, and they definitely don’t talk to themselves.”

  So saying, I squared my shoulders and forced myself out of the car, climbed the three steps and opened the door to the apartment.

  To my surprise, the living room was dark. I groped for the light switch, frowning.

  “Norrie? Tom? Where are you guys?”


  Nothing but silence met my call.

  A chill slithered down my spine. I’d seen both of their cars outside, so they should’ve been in here, lounging on the couch and watching reruns of Supernatural. Or maybe in the kitchen, Tom making Norrie laugh as she cooked for him. There was a chance, I guessed, that they’d already eaten dinner and walked to our favorite ice cream shop together, but I couldn’t imagine them doing that without me, especially seeing as how it was Tom’s last night with us for a while.

  “Hey, you two, if this is a joke, it’s totally not funny. I’m too tired to be amused by your games.” I wandered into the kitchen. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

  The kitchen was empty, too. There was a water-filled pot on the stove top, and a box of pasta was open next to it, as though someone had been about to make spaghetti. Two cloves of garlic and a can of diced tomatoes sat on a cutting board on the counter.

  “I thought we were ordering pizza.” I touched the side of the pot, and while it was warm, the burner was turned off. “Did we have a change of plans? Did that brother of yours sweet-talk you into making spaghetti?”

  If they were hiding, they were doing a bang-up job of it. I stepped into the hallway and listened again, hoping to hear muffled giggles. When the deafening lack of sound continued, I took a few more steps forward.

  Norrie’s bedroom door was ajar. I nudged it further open, blinking, trying to let my eyes adjust to the lack of light as I paused. She didn’t have an overhead light in her room; the only lamp was on her nightstand, across the room. I’d have to feel my way through the dark to get there. Norrie always complained about that and vowed to buy a floor lamp she could put close to the door. But she never had.

  They’d decided to get ice cream before dinner. It’s Tom’s last night, and he talked her into dessert first, like he always teased us about. They turned off the stove, and Norrie said, We should leave a note for Joy, in case she gets home before we get back. And Tom said, Just text her as we go. And then they started walking over to the ice cream shop and they both forgot, because they were joking and laughing, enjoying the last night before Tom moves to Alaska . . .