“And you drive her a little crazy, Elaine,” Mary said flat out.
Elaine sucked in a deep breath, and for a moment Mary thought she’d deny the truth.
“She’s right, hon,” Dennis calmed his wife before she could respond.
Mary leaned against the counter and offered her advice. “You know what I think will be the most helpful thing right now?”
The collective silence in the room kept her talking.
“Spend the next two days cooking meals for Walt and Dakota so all they have to do is pop stuff in the microwave or oven. Walt isn’t going back to the ER for at least a month. He even took himself off the call list for Borderless Doctors. I’m across the street for emergencies, and I’ll come by every day to do laundry or shop, or whatever they need.”
“But—”
“Just listen, Elaine.”
“Give them a couple of weeks to figure this parent thing out. Dakota has enough hospitality genes in her to not want to offend you by saying she’s too tired to eat. Imagine keeping that pace for the next few weeks. I promise to call you back if they’re struggling or need another set of hands.”
Elaine and JoAnne exchanged glances. “Two more days with the baby.”
JoAnne painted on a properly insincere smile. “Why do our children live so far away?”
Mary mentally patted herself on the back.
An hour and a half later she received a text from Dakota.
I managed an hour-long nap. Thank you. I don’t know what you said, but I owe you.
You’d do the same for me. Only they both knew that Mary wouldn’t have family clamoring around to help if she had a baby.
I would!
Mary considered letting the conversation fade there . . .
BTW . . . I have a date with Glen this Saturday. Giddy excitement bubbled up inside her as she watched the instant dot, dot, dot on her tiny phone message screen.
OMFingG! About damn time! I’m in a room full of in-laws or I’d call you over to squeal about it.
You’re a little busy right now. We’ll chat later when you’re awake.
Bet your ass we’ll talk later. I’m gonna want details.
Mary looked forward to a little normalcy so she could provide them. But to dominate any of Dakota’s time right now would be selfish, all things considered.
Chapter Eight
Monica called Mary the next morning, asked if they could have lunch before she flew home the next day.
“I love pizza.” Monica removed a slice and let the cheese drip down the sides.
“Me too. Glad you suggested it. I feel guilty ordering a whole one on my own.”
Monica closed her eyes as she bit in. “Not as good as New York, but . . .”
“Mmm, Chicago is still my favorite.”
Monica added an enthusiastic nod.
“Dakota and I were there for one of her conferences. We ordered a large, which on the right day we can put down. The waiter looked at us like we were crazy.”
Monica stopped chewing so she could laugh.
“I know. The pizza arrived and I looked at the guy . . . ‘dude, we ordered pizza.’”
“How much did you get through?”
“One slice. And that took serious effort.” The memory of the loaded Chicago style pizza with its one-inch thickness and sauce on top made her mouth water.
“So . . .”
Every conversation that started with the word so, in Mary’s experience, was the reason for the invite for lunch, cocktails . . . or dinner.
“So?”
“I understand Glen asked you out.”
She wiped her mouth and set the slice aside. “Dakota told you.”
Monica was quick to shake her head.
“Glen?”
She shook it again. “Trent. Who heard from his brother Jason. Who found out because Glen set aside a plane to fly back.”
“Sounds like a long list.”
“Not that long. They’re a tight-knit group. I don’t think either of them would have mentioned Glen dating anyone if they weren’t . . . I don’t know . . . excited to see where it goes.”
Mary tried not to read into that. “I have to be honest,” she said. “Your brother-in-law drives me a little crazy.”
“The Fairchild charm. I know. They all will, trust me.”
“No, I mean . . .” What did she mean? “He challenges everything I say. Even that silly stuffed monkey he gave Dakota in the hospital. I saw it first, but he swiped it right from under me to give it to her.”
Monica chuckled. “Sounds like Glen.”
“And he’s a player. I know he’s a player.”
“But you said yes to a date anyway.”
Mary paused. “He is cute.”
Monica lifted a brow.
“Sexy. Okay . . . cute is for boys. Hot. And all those cocky parts are a bit of a turn-on if I were being honest.”
“The Fairchild charm,” she said for the second time.
“I don’t normally go for that kind of charm. I’m more reserved.” More like the girl who said yes to Mr. Accountant from the deli. “I’m probably going to regret it.”
Monica picked up her pizza and waved it in the air. “Don’t regret it.”
“What?”
“Take the experience for what it’s worth but don’t regret trying something new. Yeah, it’s not your norm . . . but Glen isn’t a creepy-scary dude.”
No, he wasn’t.