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Not Quite Forever

Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(40)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“The airport was snowed in. No one went anywhere.” Spending Christmas in a hotel wasn’t ideal, but she and her fellow stranded travelers had made the most of it.

“Do you still like them scrambled?” Her mom was heating a pan and cracking eggs into a bowl.

“You don’t have to do that, Mom.”

“You’re right, I don’t. And after a few days you’re no longer a guest, so enjoy my attention while you have it.” Elaine winked over her shoulder.

“Scrambled is fine.”

Carol Ann leaned over the counter. “So how long are you staying?”

That was the zillion-dollar question. “I don’t really know.”

“You don’t have a return plane ticket?”

Dakota caught her mother glancing over her shoulder.

“I didn’t buy one.”

Her sister patted her hand. “Oh, darlin’, you must have really loved this one.”

It took three days for Dakota to leave the house. The driving need was the headache that had started in the middle of the night and didn’t let go by noon the next day. The last thing she wanted was to have her blood pressure shoot up and end up back in the hospital. Explaining that to her parents wasn’t how she wanted to tell them she was pregnant.

Her mother’s weekly gossip session disguised as a bridge party took her mom away from the house.

“Dad?” She walked onto the back porch and caught him with his eyes closed.

“Hey, sugarplum.” He patted the seat beside him.

She moved to his side and tucked into him. “I was just coming to tell you I’m going into town for a little while.”

He patted her shoulder, didn’t comment. “Are you getting your head back on?”

She grinned. “Little bit at a time.”

“That’s good. Seems your visit is without a lot of yelling this time ’round. Not that I want my daughter’s heart broken, but you and your mom seem to be getting along.”

“That’s because she hasn’t asked about my work.”

He snorted. “Let’s not remind her. I like the quiet.”

“You haven’t asked either.” And her father used to be an echo of her mother’s disdain in her career choice.

“That’s because the doctor told me I needed to decrease my stress level. Bad for my heart.”

Dakota pulled back. “What’s wrong with your heart?”

“Nothing that shouldn’t be for a man my age. Had to cut back on some of the pie, and fried cooking.”

“Are you seeing a cardiologist?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What would you know about cardiologists?”

“I did go to college.”

“I play poker with Dr. Olsen the last day of the month.”

“Dr. Olsen is a general. Not a cardiologist. If you have any pain, high blood pressure, you need to see a specialist.” Olsen had been the family doctor since Dakota was ten. The man had to be seventy by now.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about my heart. Mine isn’t all broken like yours. I’m fine.”

Dakota massaged her forehead. “My heart isn’t broken . . . fractured maybe, a little.”

“Lot you know,” her father huffed. “Broken and fractured are the same thing. Learned that when you broke your leg in the third grade.”

“I cried when I couldn’t have a black cast.”

Dennis started laughing and Dakota felt a smile on her lips. “Your mama was livid. Made them wrap you in baby pink.”

“Then I found a black marker and fixed that right up.”

They were both laughing now.

“I thought she was going to break the other one when she saw what you’d done.”

Dakota glanced at her watch, realized she was going to be late for her own doctor’s appointment if she didn’t end this trip down memory lane.

She stood and kissed the top of his head. “I needed that laugh. Thanks, Daddy.”

“We’re always here for you, sugarplum.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“She isn’t answering my calls or texts.”

Walt stood on Mary’s doorstep, hands on his hips.

“Welcome to the club. She’s not saying much to me either, and for that, I blame you.” Mary knew that Dakota had made it home and that she’d yet to tell her parents about the baby. Sadly, Mary managed this information through a few scattered text messages. Dakota had yet to answer her call. The last time Mary sent a text, she threatened to call her parents’ home if she didn’t make an attempt to speak with her.

Dakota had a few hours to call or she’d make good on her threat.

Walt looked like crap, and that made Mary smile. “Tell me she’s OK.”

“She’s not in the hospital or anything.” At least Mary thought that was the case. Surely Dakota would call her if something dramatic happened, right?

“Is she getting my messages?”

“I don’t know.”

He turned away, pounded a fist against the side of her garage.

“Hey, respect the plaster, Doc.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, removed a card, and handed it to her. “All my numbers are there. Day or night.”

“I’m not—”

“I’m worried about her, Mary. I care too much to let this go.”

Mary released a sigh. He sure sounded sincere. The cell phone in her back pocket buzzed. She jumped when Dakota’s face popped up on the screen. She answered. “Hey, Mom.”

“Mom?” Dakota’s voice spelled relief.

“Hold on,” Mary told her.

Mary glared at Walt and hoped her face didn’t give anything away. “I’ll call if anything dramatic happens,” she told him.

He shook his head and walked away.

Mary cradled the phone and slammed her front door. “Holy cow, girl. I’ve been worried sick.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m in a really strange place right now.”

“I know you are. Are you taking care of yourself?”

“I’m actually sitting outside a doctor’s office with a list of instructions a mile long.”

Mary flopped on her couch. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”

“You and me both. I’ve been on the pill since the day I told Mom I needed Midol.”

“So how did it happen?” Mary couldn’t believe she asked such a stupid question.

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