Fay Robinson - Mr. And Mrs. Wrong

Unlike the two of them or Shannon, Lucky hadn’t gone to college, but her photos helped keep them in the black, and she was proud of her contribution.

“That’s all I know,” Lucky told Leigh, finishing. “I wouldn’t print a name until you get it officially. I might be wrong. And I don’t know how long it’ll take them to notify family.”

“I’ll call before we go to press and see if we can release the name.” Leigh kept typing as she talked, reworking the information into a story. “If you get in a bind processing, get Cal to give you a hand. You can hold the rolls Eddie and I left. They’re for Wednesday. And the stuff you took for the food page.”

“Okay.”

“Whose case is the train accident? The Yankee with the fast feet?”

Jack, she meant. Leigh was the only one in the family who believed Lucky had made a mistake marrying someone she’d known for just a few months. Their parents, grandmother, Cal and Shannon were all crazy about him.

Leigh’s opinion about marriage was tainted by a rough divorce four years ago and lack of child support from her ex-husband. She didn’t even know his whereabouts. Most men were beasts, in her eyes, not only Jack, so Lucky didn’t take offense at her barbs.

“You can try Jack and see if he’ll give you what you’re missing,” she told Leigh, “but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“I’ll call the coroner. Jack still living in town?” she asked casually.

“For the time being. We’re working things out.”

“Uh-huh.” She stopped typing and turned in her chair. “If that’s true, how come you’ve been crying again this morning and look like death warmed over?”

Lucky took off her dark glasses, dropped her camera bag on the floor and sat down in a chair across from the desk. Nearly eight years separated her and Leigh, but despite that, they were very close. Lucky had never been able to hide much from her, not like with Shannon or Cal.

“I’m scared Jack and I are trying to repair something that can’t be repaired,” she told her, “and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Things aren’t going well, I take it.”

Lucky told her about the argument and her swap of the film, making Leigh roar with laughter. “It’s not funny,” Lucky said. “My marriage is going down the drain.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo, but I’d give anything to see his face when he finds out what you’ve done.”

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance. No doubt he’ll be in here later to raise hell.”

Cal walked through the door carrying doughnuts. “Who’ll be raising hell?” He extended the open box across the desk.

“Jack,” Leigh said, taking her usual lemon-filled.

“Big Guy? What for?”

“Lucky pulled a fast one on him.” She related the story. “You can run interference when he shows up, since you two are so chummy.”

Cal shook his head. “Oh, no, you’re not putting me in the middle of this.” He offered Lucky a doughnut, but she got a whiff of the sweet smell and declined, unable to hide her grimace. “Your stomach still bothering you?” he asked. “You look pretty green this morning.”

Lucky shook her head, stood quickly and grabbed her bag.

“Stomach?” Leigh asked. “I didn’t know you were really sick.”

“I’m fine. A little two-day virus or something.”

“Two days!” Cal said with a snort, opening his stupid mouth again. “You’ve been pukin’ for a week. You splattered all over one of my best shirts.”

“That was your fault, goofball. You shouldn’t eat tacos for lunch and then breathe on people.”

“Ha, ha. Seriously…you need to go to the doctor and find out what’s wrong. You’re hunched over the trash can or running to the bathroom nearly every time I see you.”

Leigh’s eyes widened and an unspoken question passed between the sisters. Rather than answer, Lucky looked away.

“Go have a checkup,” Cal added. “I’m worried about you.”

Lucky gave him a soft punch in the arm. “You’re sweet to worry, but I’m feeling much better now. Whatever I had is going away.” She backed toward the door. “I’d love to stay and gab all morning, but I’ve got a ton of film waiting for me, so I’d better get to it. See you two later.” She turned and hurried out the door and up the stairs before Leigh could question her.

In the darkroom she put on an apron and a new pair of long rubber gloves. She made sure her skin was covered and the vent open, then mixed the chemicals. She’d only gotten as far as getting the developer in the film tank before Leigh banged on the locked door.

“Let me in, you rascal. I want to talk to you.”

“I’m busy. Go away.”

“Not on your life. Now open the door.”

Lucky ignored her.

“Okay,” Leigh said after a few seconds, “you’re forcing me to call Jack and ask him what’s up.”

Damn her. “Hold on a second. I’m coming.”

She switched off the lights, loaded the film and screwed on the lid, tapping the tank on the counter to remove air bubbles. She set the timer and agitated the tank. “Okay, come in,” she said, flipping the light back on and unlocking the door.

“Are you pregnant?” Leigh asked without preamble.

“If I said no, would you believe me?”

“No.”

“Then yes, I’m pregnant.”

Leigh sat down hard on the stool, obviously stunned. “When did you find out?”

“Three weeks ago—or I suppose it’s four now.”

Leigh went wild. “A month! You’ve known for a month and haven’t said anything to me?”

“I wanted to tell Jack first.”

“Oh, God, Lucky, how far along are you?”

“About eight weeks. Nearly nine. I figure it was the basketball.”

“The what?”

She waved away the question with her hand. “Nothing. A…game between me and Jack. It’s not important.”

“Does he still not know?”

“Not yet. I’ve tried to tell him several times, but talking calmly about anything isn’t one of our strengths.”

Plus, the news had hit her like a bomb. She’d been too overwhelmed to think logically about how to handle it. She wanted a child, but not now. She hadn’t been married a year yet, and a third of that, she and Jack had spent apart.

“Cal didn’t suspect, did he?” she asked. “If he lets something slip…”

“He’s concerned you’re sick, but clueless about the reason. Nothing’s wrong, is there? He’s right, you do look green.”

“Other than my blood pressure being elevated, I’m healthy as a horse. The doctor said the morning sickness should go away pretty soon. She gave me a prescription for vitamins and told me to drink ginger tea to settle my stomach. The most important thing is she warned me I have to reduce my stress. That’s ironic, isn’t it? The pregnancy is what’s giving me stress.”

“Should you be fooling with these chemicals?”

“They’re safe. That’s the first thing I checked. As long as I don’t bathe in them, they can’t hurt me or the baby, but I am taking extra precautions.”

“I guess we should start looking for help, someone to do some of the shooting and processing for you. I’ve been thinking about that, anyway. I’ve put too much of a burden on you the last few months, with Dad retiring and me feeling my way along as editor.”

Lucky had known this was coming. “No, you haven’t. And I don’t need any help.”

“We’ll definitely need someone when you go on leave, so we should think about hiring a trainee or a part-time person. And you’ll probably want to stay home with the baby for a few months, maybe even the first year.”

Lucky didn’t even want to think about that right now. “We have plenty of time to work out the details. I’ll face those problems when they get here.”