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“Everything causes cancer. Smoking, drinking, eating, breathing…” She shook her head. “I might as well just crawl into a box and wait to die.”
Krystal knew it was useless to argue with her, so she didn’t.
Edie said, “You don’t have to worry about your momma, Krystal. She takes good care of herself,” she assured her. “She uses sunscreen. We both do.” She held up a bottle for Krystal’s inspection.
Krystal forced a weak smile to her lips.
Her mother said, “Are you hungry? There’s chicken salad in the refrigerator.”
Only a few hours ago she would have jumped at the chance to eat. Now her appetite had deserted her again, replaced by an indifference to any food. She was learning that when it came to eating, as a pregnant woman she had a short window of opportunity.
“It’s too hot to eat,” she told her mother.
“It’s cool inside.”
Still Krystal shook her head.
Her mother rattled off several more food options before finally giving up. “Suit yourself. I hope you have more of an appetite by dinnertime. There’s a new Mexican place just up the road I’d like to try. Are you going to stay the night?”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She shrugged and said, “I suppose I can. I don’t have to be at work until noon tomorrow, but I didn’t bring any clothes.”
Her mother’s brow wrinkled. “You didn’t call to tell me you were on your way, you didn’t bring a change of clothes…what’s up with you? There is something wrong, isn’t there?”
Edie saw the questions as a sign for her to leave. She reached for a terry-cloth beach wrap draped over the back of her chair. “I gotta get going.”
“You don’t have to leave because of me,” Krystal told her.
“I’m not leaving because of you, sweetie. I’m leaving because I’m getting toasted.” She pushed the strap on her bra aside briefly and said, “See?” Then she downed the remainder of her beer, picked up her sunscreen lotion and slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops. Posed to go, she asked Krystal’s mother, “Are you planning to go to the candle party at Jilly’s tonight?”
“Not with Krystal here I’m not. Tell her to bring the booklet to work and I’ll order something there.”
“You don’t have to miss it because of me, Mom,” Krystal insisted.
Her mother flapped her hand in midair. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t really want to go.”
“Me, either. I was just going to see Jilly’s new place.”
Krystal turned to her mother. “I think you should go, Mom. I’ll visit Carly while you’re gone.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind…it would be kinda fun…” She trailed off.
“Then it’s settled. You’re going,” Krystal stated firmly.
Edie waved goodbye and called out as she left, “I’ll pick you up at seven-fifteen.”
As soon as Edie was gone, her mother turned to Krystal and said, “Okay, so what’s wrong?”
Despite the fact that Krystal knew it was impossible to lie to her mother and get away with it, she said, “Nothing. Really.”
Her mother gave her a look Krystal had seen often. It said, I’ll let you think you’re fooling me, but we both know you’re not. She motioned for her to come inside the mobile home. “I want to show you what I’ve done to the place.”
Because her mother had told her she’d made some changes, Krystal expected to find new curtains on both the kitchen and living room windows. To her surprise, however, the entire inside had been paneled in white, replacing the dark walnut walls.
She did a three-sixty and spread her hands in wonder. “You did all this yourself?”
Her mother nodded. “Edie and I went to a couple of those classes they have at the home store in Alex. It’s not the most professional-looking job, but it’s good enough for this place.”
“It looks nice, Mom,” she told her, noticing she’d made a new slipcover for the sofa. Instead of the blue-and-green-plaid fabric that she and Carly had soiled on many an occasion, there was a polished cotton floral print. “I like what you did to the sofa. It adds a lot of color to the room.”
“And look. I finally got air-conditioning.” She pointed to a window unit humming quietly as it blasted cold air into the small home. “I had to. This summer is a killer. If you want it colder, just turn the knob.”
“No, it’s fine,” Krystal said, still looking around in amazement.
“Sit down. I’ll put on some clothes and then we’ll catch up.”
Krystal knew it wasn’t going to be easy to tell her about her pregnancy, not considering their history when it came to talking about sex. She hoped that, because her mother had been a single mom, she’d understand that what she needed most of all was a mom who was there for her.
“Even if you’re not hungry you must be thirsty. There’s beer and soda in the fridge. Help yourself,” her mother said as she moved through the tiny kitchen area.
“I’ll just have some water, thanks.”
“I don’t buy that bottled stuff. What I have comes straight out of the tap,” she warned before going into her bedroom and closing the door.
Krystal pulled a tumbler from the cupboard and filled it with water. Before sitting down at the table, she went over to the wall to look at the pictures hanging there. Most of them were of her and Carly when they were kids. She wondered why her mother didn’t have pictures of them as adults. She’d gone to all the trouble of replacing the paneling in the mobile home, yet she’d hung the same old pictures on the wall.
She looked to the far end of the living room and, as she expected, there hung the watercolor of the Eiffel Tower—a gift from one of her mother’s friends who’d been to France. It had to be close to twenty years old and had survived several moves in which many of her mother’s possessions had been carted away to the dump. Linda still hadn’t given up on her dream of someday visiting Paris.
When her mother returned, she had on a pair of capri pants and a scoop-neck top that made her look much younger than her forty-five years. “You look good, Mom.”
The compliment brought a smile. “Why thank you, dear.”
Again Krystal looked around. “I really like what you’ve done with the house.”
“It looks good, doesn’t it? I should have spruced up the place years ago, but there were always other things that needed my money.”
“Yeah, me and Carly.”
She chuckled. “One of you was always needing something.” She grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, twisted off the cap and took a sip. “Are you sure you don’t want a beer?”
Krystal shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
Her mother sat down across from her. “So why are you here on a hot summer day when you should be at the beach on one of those beautiful lakes they have down there in the cities?”
Krystal looked at her glass and shrugged. “You know I’m not a beach person.”
“No, but you’re a city person. You didn’t have any trouble making that transition, did you?”
“I like the fact that there are so many people. There’s an energy there…always something going on, always something in motion.”
“You don’t miss your hometown?”
“I miss you and Carly.”
She could feel her mother’s eyes on her. “Everything going okay at work?”
She nodded. “Yeah, work’s going good.”
“You must be putting in long hours. You look tired.”
She was tired, but not because of extra hours at work. “I’ve been busy and then it’s been so hot. You know the heat always drains me.” Even with the new window air conditioner, she felt warm and swiped at her brow with a napkin.
“Maybe you want to take a nap before dinner,” her mother suggested.
She nodded. “I would, but first I need to talk to you about something.”
Her mother’s brow furrowed. “So you didn’t just come because you wanted to see me. I should have known.”
“Mom, that’s not fair. I come up here all the time and very seldom do I ever ask for anything.”
Her mother reached for her hands and gave them a squeeze. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Oh, before I forget.” She jumped up and went over to the tiny bookshelf in the corner. “I have a new book for you.”
Krystal read the title aloud. “How to Marry Your Soul Mate in One Year Or Less.”
“I heard the author talking about it on TV,” her mother said, her voice full of excitement. “She knows her stuff, Kryssie. Take it home with you and read it.”
She nodded and murmured a thanks, knowing perfectly well that she’d take it home and add it to the pile of self-help books her mother had given her over the years—most of them about how to find a mate for life. She knew it was important to her mother that Krystal find her soul mate. Really important. Which made it all the more difficult for Krystal to tell her she was pregnant, yet it had to be done.
She set the book aside. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”
Her mother frowned. “Something’s bugging you. What is it? Are you having money problems? Is that it? If you need to borrow some, I have a little put away,” she told her.
Krystal pushed a stray red strand of hair back from her face. “I don’t need money, Mom.”
“But you need something. I can see it in your face.”
Krystal took a deep breath and clenched her fingers, aware that the moment she’d been dreading had arrived and there was no turning back. “I do need something, Mom. I need your understanding.”
“About what?” she asked slowly.
Krystal tried to get the words out, but they stuck in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty, trying to stop the emotion that threatened to make this even more difficult than it already was. When moisture pooled in her eyes, she knew she’d lost the battle.
Her mother saw her distress and demanded, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
A tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped at it with the back of her hand. “I messed up big time, Mom.”
“Messed up how? You didn’t get fired, did you?”
She shook her head. “It’s not about work, Mom. I already told you that.”
“Then tell me what it is about. You’re sitting there looking as if you’ve lost your best friend. Is that it? Did you and Shannon have words?”
Krystal reached into her purse for a tissue and blew her nose. She knew there was no easy way to tell her mother and blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”
In the blink of an eye her mother’s hand slapped her face, stinging her cheek. For a moment, Krystal was too stunned to move. Then she jumped up from her chair, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
She expected her mother to come after her, to tell her she was sorry, that she’d reacted emotionally and she regretted it.
But she didn’t. For all Krystal knew she could still be sitting at the kitchen table. She certainly wasn’t making any effort to stop her daughter from leaving.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, Krystal climbed into her car and started the engine. And for the second time that day she felt as if she were running away from home.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN KRYSTAL PULLED IN TO Carly’s long driveway she saw her sister sitting on the porch swing. Beside her was Emily, her four-year-old daughter. As soon as they saw Krystal’s car, they came running across the lawn to welcome her.
“I’m glad you came here,” Carly said, wrapping her in a sisterly hug.
It was the only place in Fergus Falls Krystal could go. Since she’d moved to St. Paul she’d lost touch with many of her friends. Most of them had moved away, but of the ones who remained, none could give her the emotional support that Carly provided.
As children they’d been like other close siblings, rivals one minute and best friends the next. Being older by fifteen months, Krystal had often played the role of protector, looking out for the smaller, more innocent Graham girl. It wasn’t until the emotional turbulence of adolescence that their roles reversed, with a calm Carly being the one who kept a watchful eye on an impetuous Krystal.
“Did Mom call?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.
Carly nodded. “I’ll tell you about it in a minute.”
Emily tugged on Krystal’s hand saying, “Auntie Krys, guess what? I get to go with Grandma.”
Krystal stiffened as she looked to her sister for an explanation.
“Relax. She means Joe’s mother,” Carly explained.
“I get to eat supper at Grandma’s, then go get ice cream at church,” Emily boasted.
“It’s an old-fashioned ice-cream social.” Carly then said to Emily, “Go get your backpack from the house. I think I see Grandma’s car coming.” As she skipped away she said to Krystal, “You didn’t tell me you were planning to tell Mom you’re pregnant today.”
“I didn’t know. I just got in the car and came up here on the spur of the moment.” She shook her head. “Boy, was that a mistake.”
Carly placed a hand on her arm, her eyes full of compassion. “Are you okay? You’re trembling.”
“I know. I should probably eat something. I haven’t had anything since breakfast except for a milk shake,” she told her, not wanting to begin a discussion with Carly’s mother-in-law in the driveway.
“I’ll make you something as soon as Joe’s mom leaves with Emily,” she said with a comforting pat on Krystal’s arm.
Krystal nodded and tried to act as if nothing was wrong as the three women made small talk. It was a typical August afternoon with the humidity making it feel much warmer than the temperature indicated. By the time Emily and her grandmother finally left, perspiration tickled the back of Krystal’s neck and she felt light-headed.
Carly noticed her paleness and looped an arm through Krystal’s. “Come. We’re going inside where it’s cool and I’ll get you something to eat.”
Carly’s house was definitely cooler than her mother’s, but then it was nothing at all like the homes in the trailer park. It was two stories of brick with tall ceilings, lots of windows, and a design that was as elegant as any of the model homes she’d seen in the cities. It had everything she and Carly had dreamed about as children, including a swimming pool in the backyard.
