Past Due Read online

  She brightened up. “Have you bought a new dress?”

  I hadn’t. I could still fit into most of my regular clothes, although things were starting to get tight. Within the next month, I’d have to buy a whole new wardrobe to deal with my increasing girth.

  That was if I didn’t lose this baby too, of course, but I didn’t want to think about that possibility.

  Anyway, there was no point in buying a dress that I wouldn’t fit into two months from now. But at the same time, I had already added enough padding in the belly that anything I bought today likely wouldn’t fit very well once I—hopefully—got back to my usual size after the baby was born.

  “We should go see Audrey,” Mother said.

  Audrey is my mother’s best friend. They’ve known each other forever, and Audrey owns an exclusive boutique on the square in Sweetwater, where Mother buys all her clothes. That red dress I had worn to tease a proposal from Todd—and later, to seduce Rafe—had come from Audrey’s on the Square.

  “I don’t know...” I said.

  “It’ll be fun. We can go this morning. And then you can meet Charlotte when we’re finished.”

  Resistance was futile. “Fine,” I said. “Although I can’t really afford a new dress.” Not with the whole new wardrobe I’d be buying soon.

  Mother clicked her tongue. “Consider it an early birthday present, darling. You can’t go to your high school reunion wearing an old dress.”

  “It isn’t like they’ll have seen it before,” I pointed out. “I don’t own anything that old.”

  She didn’t respond to this attempt to lighten the mood. “Go get ready, darling. It’s already nine thirty.”

  Indeed it was. In addition to the morning sickness and wanting to eat everything in sight—when I wasn’t worried about throwing up—I also slept a lot.

  Mother gave me a once-over. “Are you feeling all right, Savannah?”

  I smiled. “Fine. Just tired, I guess.”

  She tilted her head. “Did you stay up late?”

  “I was home before you,” I said, and had the pleasure of seeing my mother’s cheeks turn pink. “How’s Sheriff Satterfield?”

  “Bob’s well.” She changed the subject, just as I had expected she would. “Go on, darling.” She wiggled her fingers at me. “Shoo. Get ready so we can go.”

  I wasn’t meeting Charlotte until noon, and I doubted it would take two hours to pick out a dress, but I slid off the stool and did as she said.

  Audrey, like Mother, is in her late fifties. And like Mother, she looks younger than she is. In every other respect, she’s the very opposite of my mother. Where Audrey is tall, Mother is short, and where Audrey is dark, Mother is fair. Where Audrey looks severe, Mother looks soft.

  My mother has fluffy, champagne-tinted hair, and she dresses in a lot of pastels and muted shades. Audrey’s hair is a jet black pageboy, heavily stacked in the back, and she wears a lot of black and white and primary colors, and sky-high heels she doesn’t need, because she’s already taller than me. She looks a bit like Tina will look in thirty years, albeit not as unattractively gaunt.

  Today Audrey was dressed in red: a linen dress with white piping, and a pair of red stiletto pumps with little bows on the heels. She perked right up when she saw us. “Savannah, darling! And Margaret Anne!”

  More air kisses ensued, until the preliminaries were concluded. Audrey stepped back. “What can I do for you two?”

  “Savannah needs a dress,” Mother said. “Can you believe she was thinking of going to her high school reunion in something old?”

  I rolled my eyes. Audrey smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

  I’m honestly not sure whether she was talking to my mother or me, but it was Mother who answered. “Something slimming. Now that you’re settled, Savannah, you have to be careful not to let yourself go.”

  My cheeks heated. And I wanted, almost desperately, to defend myself, to say that the only reason I’d gained seven pounds was because I was pregnant, not because I was getting complaisant, but I managed to keep my mouth shut.

  Besides, she was probably thinking that I’d need to stay slim so that when Rafe dumped me—which she was sure he would—I’d be able to find another boyfriend. Todd might not want me if I gained weight. And I wasn’t about to argue with her over whether Rafe would stick around.

  “Black?” Audrey asked.

  Mother shook her head. “A bit too severe, I think. She looks a little pale to me.”

  They both assessed me. “Blue?” Audrey suggested.

  “Blue might work.” They headed toward the racks. I looked around.

  Things had happened the same way the last time I’d been in Audrey’s boutique. Mother had suggested black—“because it’s so slimming”—and Audrey had countered with white, because it was “pure and evocative.” Then someone had mentioned that my eyes were blue.

  I had ended up buying a red dress. Tight, sexy, glossy satin.

  This time I wasn’t concerned about color so much as cut. I wanted something soft and forgiving, something I wouldn’t bust out of by next week. A dress I could wear for the next few months, at least, until the stomach became big enough that I’d have to invest in bona fide maternity clothes. Or muumuus.

  But at the same time, I didn’t want something that made me look visibly pregnant. Until I was ready to tell the world, I didn’t want the way I was dressed to give me away.

  “Perhaps an empire waist?” Audrey suggested, turning to look at me, a high-waisted white dress with ribbons in her hand.

  Mother shook her head. “She’d look pregnant.”

  I held my breath, but neither of them seemed to realize that the reason I’d look pregnant was, in fact, because I was pregnant.

  “This is lovely.” Audrey held up a hot pink summer-cum-cocktail dress in some sort of Thai silk. Thin straps, twisted bodice, and a waist that started just below my boobs. It would definitely accommodate a growing stomach.

  “I don’t know,” Mother said. “It’s a bit bright...”

  And as we all know, a lady doesn’t draw attention to herself.

  I took the dress and held it up to myself in the mirror. Yes, I know I’d said I didn’t need or want a new dress, but it was pretty.

  “And this is nice,” Audrey said, holding up a wrap dress in eggplant. It had ruffles on the elbow-length sleeves and a ruffle along the bottom of the skirt, and up the front where one side wrapped over the other. The color was lovely, the fabric soft, and wrap dresses are definitely forgiving of changes in stomach size.

  Also, Rafe likes wrap dresses, because they’re easy to take off. I own a black one, that I’d worn on a date once, and he got a certain glint in his eye every time he saw it.

  I reached for it, and Audrey relinquished the dress into my grasp. “Why don’t you go try them both on? You know where the dressing room is.”

  I nodded and took myself off in that direction, and got busy peeling out of what I was wearing while I tried not to listen to Mother unburdening herself to Audrey ten feet away. It was as if she imagined that the curtain I’d pulled across the entrance to the dressing room was soundproof, or something.

  “I worry about her, Audrey. It’s been almost six months, and she keeps holding on to that sorry excuse for a relationship.”

  “She’s in love,” Audrey said.

  Thank you. I unbuttoned my blouse.

  Mother sniffed. Loudly. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s hormones, pure and simple.”

  “What if it isn’t?” Audrey said.

  “What else could it be? I brought my children up properly. No daughter of mine could be so lacking in taste and common sense as to actually fall for that... that...”

  I raised my voice. “Careful. I can hear you, you know.”

  They were silent for long enough that I had time to slip on the pink dress. As I smoothed it over my stomach—not flat, yet not quite round—I heard them start up again. Or rather, I heard my mother. “I don’t know what to
do, Audrey.”

  “You can start by leaving me alone,” I said as I pushed the curtain aside and stepped out in the pink dress. “It’s my life, and if I want to throw it away on someone you think is beneath me, that’s my prerogative.”

  Mother didn’t respond, just eyed the dress critically. “You look puffy, darling.”

  “It’s the cut,” I said.

  She looked doubtful. I turned on my heel. “I’ll try the other one.”

  This time they didn’t talk, or if they did, they stayed far enough away from the dressing room door that I couldn’t hear them. I stepped out of the pink dress, hung it back on the hanger, and wrapped the purple around me before facing the mirror.

  Much better. The deep V-neck detracted from my slightly too full stomach, and the ruffles on the sleeves and bottom were flirty and fun. And as the stomach grew, the fit would adjust.

  “I don’t know...” Mother said when I walked out. She pursed her lips, her eyes lingering on my midriff. “Really, Savannah, this isn’t the time to let yourself go.”

  “I’m not letting myself go!”

  “Remember, a lady can never be too—”

  “I know. Too thin or too rich. There’s no danger of either.”

  I turned toward the mirror and smoothed the dress over my stomach. I liked it. Audrey must, too, because she was nodding in approval. “Do you have shoes, Savannah?”

  “My silver sandals will work.” I’d been planning to wear those, anyway.

  “Jewelry? A big, chunky necklace would look wonderful with that neckline.”

  Mother turned her mouth down, either at the word ‘chunky’ or at the idea of her daughter wearing costume jewelry.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got,” I said recklessly, and followed Audrey over to the counter.

  Ten minutes later, I was the proud owner of a purple dress I couldn’t afford and a chunky necklace—approximately fifteen hundred dime-sized silver balls on two strings—with matching earrings.

  “So how’s everything going?” Audrey asked while she bagged the dress and dealt with my credit card. Mother, meanwhile, was browsing the silk blouse section.

  “Fine, thank you.” I tucked the card back into my wallet and the wallet back into my bag.

  “That young man treating you well?” She printed out the receipt and put it in front of me with a pen.

  “Very. He’s saved my life a couple of times this year already.” I scribbled my name on the signature line and pushed the receipt back toward her. “And anyway, if he didn’t, I’d move out. I’ve done it before.”

  She picked it up with long-taloned fingers and slipped it into the cash drawer. “I thought he moved in with you.”

  “He did. I was speaking metaphorically.”

  Although we had talked about the possibility of leaving my one bedroom apartment for Rafe’s much roomier house, now that we had a baby on the way. My apartment really wasn’t big enough for three. The problem was that Rafe’s house—technically his grandmother, Mrs. Jenkins’s, house—was in a neighborhood where, as the saying goes, I wouldn’t want to be caught dead. And if I lived there, the chances were higher than normal that I would be, since the crime statistics were pretty much through the roof.

  I’d tried to be quiet, but obviously Mother had ears like a bat when it came to anything to do with Rafe. She raised her head, nostrils quivering as she scented prey. “I didn’t know that.”

  “It’s not like you ever want to talk about him.” I tucked the receipt into the bag.

  Mother arched delicate brows. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “No, of course you don’t.”

  She pulled the corners of her mouth down. “You’ve changed, darling.”

  “God, I hope so!” I said, and grabbed my bag from the counter.

  The whole ordeal of getting ready to shop, driving to the store, and then shopping, had taken longer than I’d expected. By now, it was almost time for lunch, and my stomach—or its tiny inhabitant—was screaming for sustenance.

  I had driven my mother and the Volvo into town, and Audrey offered to shuttle her back, so I could stay and meet Charlotte for lunch at the Café on the Square. It was a relief that they were making themselves scarce, since I’d been worried that they’d decide to lunch in the café on the square, too. I feared the discomfort of that would kill me. Charlotte hadn’t been happy when we parted ways last night, and her disapproval added to Mother’s would just be too much to stomach, especially over food.

  I was a few minutes early, and had a couple of rolls while I waited. I get voraciously hungry when I’m pregnant, enough that it’s noticeable—especially considering that I’ve been trained to eat like a lady the rest of the time—and this way I could fill up a bit before she got there. That way, maybe she wouldn’t query the fact that I was eating for two.

  I swallowed the last bite just as she came through the door, and we got down to the business of ordering salads.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” Charlotte said once the preliminaries were done. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.”

  “I’m very happy.”

  She smiled. “Then I’m very happy for you.”

  Good.

  “You have to admit it’s a bit of a shock, though. I mean, surely you didn’t expect that you’d ever be dating Rafe Collier.” She unfolded her napkin and put it across her lap.

  “Of course not.” I’d readily admit that. “I spent months lying to myself and anyone who’d listen. Whenever anyone asked about him, I swore up and down that there was nothing going on between us. I knew there couldn’t be. My mother would disown me and everyone in Sweetwater would be aghast if I got involved with him.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “But when it came down to it, none of that mattered. I love him. And being with him is worth being disinherited and having people stare.”

  “Your mother didn’t really disinherit you, did she?”

  I shook my head. “But she isn’t happy. And she doesn’t bother to hide it. I heard her griping to Audrey just now, while I was in the dressing room.”

  “What did you buy?” Charlotte glanced at the bag leaning up against my chair leg.

  “A dress for tonight.” I pulled the bag up on my lap to show her the color and fabric. “Mother was shocked that I was planning to wear an old dress. She dragged me to Audrey’s to remedy the situation.”

  “Tell me about the dress,” Charlotte said, and we spent the next few minutes discussing the merits of wrap dresses. Charlotte had gained a few pounds of her own since the last time I’d seen her, from carrying and giving birth to two children, and we were in total agreement about the ease of dresses with forgiving fabrics and cuts.

  In the middle of it all, Mary Kelly walked in, and stopped just inside the door to look around. I lifted a hand, but it wasn’t until she’d walked past us with a brief greeting that I realized that Tina was here, half hidden behind a glossy magazine at a table in the back corner.

  Oops. “I wonder how long she’s been sitting there,” I said. “I didn’t notice her when I came in.”

  Then again, I’d been so focused on the rolls that I might have overlooked people a whole lot more interesting than Tina Foster.

  And then I realized...

  Uh-oh. She’d sat there while I’d been stuffing rolls into my mouth like there was no tomorrow. Hopefully she wouldn’t tell anyone—like my mother—that I’d been eating like a pig.

  “She was there when I came in,” Charlotte said. “But the way she was hiding behind that magazine, I figured she didn’t want to be noticed, so I didn’t say anything.”

  “I didn’t see her at all.”

  “You’ve had your back to her,” Charlotte said.

  Not when I walked in. Although I appreciated the excuse. I lowered my voice. “She seems a bit... uptight, doesn’t she?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “She always was more insecure. Mary Kelly is the one with the stronger personality.”
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br />   Indeed. I glanced over my shoulder to where they were sitting. Mary Kelly had sat down and Tina had put the magazine away. They were leaning so close to one another that their foreheads practically met over the middle of the table. Whatever they were talking about looked involved. I hoped Tina wasn’t telling Mary Kelly how much I’d been eating. Mary Kelly clearly wasn’t good at keeping secrets.

  “Here’s the food,” Charlotte said and leaned back on her chair. I turned around in time to see my Cobb salad descending.

  “Thank you.”

  The waitress nodded. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  She withdrew, and we got busy forking up lettuce. The two rolls I had already devoured had ensured that I didn’t fall on my greens like a starving beast, but I had plenty of room left. Really, for being roughly the size of a raisin, this baby had a voracious appetite.

  Charlotte, meanwhile, was chasing her vegetables around the plate and only occasionally conveying a shred of green to her mouth.

  “Something wrong?” I asked between bites.

  She made a face. “I’m trying to lose weight.”

  “Why? You look great.”

  “I don’t fit into my cheerleading uniform anymore,” Charlotte said.

  “You’ve had two kids. You’re not supposed to.”

  “I bet Mary Kelly fits into hers. And just look at Tina!”

  “I’d rather not,” I said. “No offense, but I don’t want to look like Tina. And I’m sure your husband wouldn’t want you to, either.”

  Charlotte didn’t look convinced. Maybe her husband extended the whole cosmetic surgery bit into their home and made Charlotte feel inadequate.

  “Just eat the lettuce. There are no calories in lettuce. I’ll take the last roll off your hands.” I picked it out of the basket.

  “Aren’t you watching your weight?” Charlotte asked as I bit into it.

  “Sure.” I swallowed. “That’s why I’m having a salad. If Rafe were here, he’d make me eat a burger and fries. I have to be careful when I can.”