Shelley Galloway - Baby Makes Six

Melanie dared to crack a smile. “Maybe she forgot to charge her phone. Or lost the charger again.”

“Who knows? I’ve given up trying to figure her out.” Glancing at his watch again, he swore under his breath. Worry and frustration caused him to speak more rashly than usual. “She’s now over an hour late. Why can she never even call me?”

“Because she knows you’d probably snap at her.”

“I’d snap because she’s going to give me an ulcer at thirty-five.”

Almost evilly, she grinned. “You’re thirty-six.”

He chose to ignore that. “Mel, do you think she’s hurt? What if she’s hurt?” Because it was really sounding like a good idea, he ventured, “Maybe I should give John at the station a call. He’d run by her house if I asked.”

Melanie looked away. “No, I don’t think you need to call John just yet. We don’t want to get him involved.”

“He wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re right. He’s a good guy. It’s just…well, this is vintage Shawn, Eddie. Let’s wait a little bit longer.”

He looked at his watch. “We were supposed to be eating dinner right now. I hope the girls are okay.”

“Honestly, the way you talk about Shawn, you’d think she went around without a care for anyone but herself,” Melanie chided. “I’ve never known those girls to ever miss a meal. They’re probably munching on banana sandwiches now.”

“Don’t even get me started on those.” Even thinking about the odd combination of sliced bananas, mayonnaise and white bread gave him the willies.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he peered out the window again and gave in to irritation once more. “I bet she’s fed them. They’re going to come running in here with some hamburger chain’s paper sacks. It’s going to be just you and I who are hungry. Sheesh.”

“You know that’s not fair.”

“I know. And I know she cares about the girls…but sometimes I don’t feel like giving her fifty excuses. Sometimes I just want her to think about things from my perspective, too.”

“I see.” Rolling her eyes, Melanie went to his sofa and sat down, then picked up his Sports and Leisure and started flipping through it.

“I’m not the one who’s late, Mel.”

“I hear you.”

Still staring out the window, Eddie said, “One time Shawn showed up an hour late for an awards dinner downtown.”

Melanie coughed. “You know she had a good reason for that. She was caught in traffic. An interstate was shut down.”

“Funny how no one else’s wife was late.”

“And I’m sure Jayne never would have done such a thing.”

Why was it that every time someone in his family mentioned Jayne it was with a note of derision in their voice? “Jayne definitely wouldn’t have been late,” he said, standing up not only for his girlfriend—was she his girlfriend?—but for himself. After all, he was damn happy a woman like that was interested in him. “How come you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t.”

“I don’t get the idea that you do. And you should. She’s pretty much perfect.”

“You want perfect?” Never afraid to put him in his place, Melanie made gagging noises. “Wanting perfection in a partner is a little scary, don’t you think?”

“Stop twisting my words around. No, Melanie, I don’t want perfection. I just appreciate the fact that she’s never left me standing next to a window while listening for my cell phone to go off.”

“No, I don’t imagine she has.” With robotic precision, his sister turned the page in the magazine, scanned it quickly, then flipped again. “I doubt she’s ever done anything in her very short life that’s impulsive.”

“Very short life? You’re only a year older than her.”

“I’ve been through a whole lot more than she has, Ed.”

Eddie knew that was most likely true. She’d gotten mugged almost eight months before and was still too skittish to do much besides work and hang out with family. She was still too skittish to ever do more than smile at John, though everyone in the family knew he was half in love with her…and that she wasn’t immune to him, either. “Sorry, Mel. I wasn’t thinking.”

She ignored him. “Actually I think you think you’re perfect. Which, I’d like to remind you, you’re not.”

“Jeez, Melanie. I never said I was. Why are you picking a fight? We’re not in middle school.” In seventh grade he and Mel had fought tooth and nail over everything.

“I’m not picking a fight. You’re the one who brought up Perfect Jayne. Why do you think she’s perfect, anyway? Because she has long, flowing, golden hair?” Melanie smirked at her joke.

He turned back toward the window. “She’s a kindergarten teacher. She’s been living on her own since she was twenty-one. She volunteers in the community.”

“Not to mention she’s drop-dead gorgeous.”

“She is,” he agreed. Jayne was beautiful in that wholesome, girl-next-door, cover-model way. And what was wrong with that, anyway? The girl couldn’t help being gorgeous. “That doesn’t even matter. Shawn was pretty, too.”

“Was? What happened, Eddie? She got old and her body changed after giving you three precious girls? You got bored and needed a trophy wife?”

“Sergeant Wagner, the guy who is so insecure he needs a trophy wife to make him look good,” he said sarcastically. “Come on. You know that’s never been me.”

“I’ll grant you that.”

“And nothing happened to Shawn’s looks, Melanie. I’ve always thought she was pretty. But looks were never our problem.”

Unexpectedly a moment from four months ago flashed into his mind. A moment when the last thing either of them were thinking about was kids or clocks.

No, all he’d been thinking was that he missed kissing her. He missed how she melted into his arms the moment they hugged. Always. The guys at the station used to tease him about how Shawn always flattened her hips against his when they’d embraced—even if the hug only lasted thirty seconds.

But one night, the hug was all it took for his body to respond the way it always had.

Clearing his throat, Eddie brought himself back to reality. “All I’m saying is that I didn’t think you acted very warm or nice to Jayne when I invited her to the barbecue.”

“I didn’t know what to say. I’m pretty new to you dating. Plus, it was a little uncomfortable. She was here, acting like y’all were on some kind of date.”

“We were.”

“Well, I like you acting like a dad with the girls, at least at things like family barbecues.”

“You liked me fine before I had children.”

“I did. But when you were with Jayne, you seemed…weird.”

Weird? “How?”

“I don’t know. You acted all fake. And you waited on her.”

“Her name’s Jayne.”

“Whatever. You were waiting on her and I’ve never seen you wait on anyone in your life.”

He had. He’d waited on Shawn when she was pregnant. Just remembering how warm and sweet she’d looked when he brought her coffee in bed made him swallow hard.

Then he recalled how devastated she’d looked after the miscarriage. Then nothing could make her smile. He’d been so hurt, too. Had he tried hard enough to lift her spirits?

The memory was too painful. It was far easier to dwell on the evening Melanie was talking about. “I couldn’t have the girls because it was Shawn’s weekend.”

Melanie grunted, not very ladylike, either. “Convenient.”

“You’re going to have to get used to me being divorced, Mel. Bad things happen.”

“I know. But maybe you aren’t better off without Shawn, Ed.”

“I am.”

“Okay, I’ll rephrase. Maybe you aren’t better off with Jayne. I think you’ve jumped right into something without thinking.”