The Big Bang (21 page)

Read The Big Bang Online

Authors: Linda Joffe Hull

BOOK: The Big Bang
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Since she ran into Tim at Home Depot?

“Read it?” Jim asked.

Since she’d be calling Jim tomorrow with the best, most commitment affirming of news, there wasn’t any harm in sending him off across the Atlantic with one of Tim Trautman’s flirty texts to mull over. “Read it.”

Hope ur morning’s been happy so far,
Jim read.
Theresa wants 2 blow off church for a mom’s day family outing. Totally bummin but im afraid i won’t be able 2 sneak away n meet up with u this AM at my house. I left u a key.

“Interesting,” Jim said.

He’d seen the lavender fabric swatches all over the nursery, seen the schematic she’d been trying to make self-service for Theresa, and knew she was supposed to set up the Trautman nursery. But, shouldn’t he also be wondering, like she did, if Tim really was a little more interested than he should be? “Why’s that?”

“He texts like a teenager,” he said.

And, if she had to be honest, had a way of making her feeling like one. Not having him there to help her set up, to be there to stand back and admire the project unfolding in his nursery, felt a little more disappointing than she might have expected.

“There’s British Airways right up ahead,” he said.

But, not as disappointing as Jim’s distracted nonreaction.

“I see it,” she said, pulling up to the curb and stopping the car in front of the skycap.

Jim handed over her cell and unclipped his seat belt.

“I really wish we could have booked a ticket for me. I mean—”

“I know honey, but we’ve been over this.”

“But you’ll try to be back by Memorial Weekend?”

“Do my best.”

She pushed down any pointless questions and what ifs about next month’s ovulation by checking her breast for the comforting tenderness.

“Love you.” He kissed her.

“Love you, too.” She kissed him back.

“Call you when I land.” He pulled his suitcase and briefcase from the back seat.

Her text alert buzzed again as he closed the door.

***

So far, Mother’s Day had been one of the nicest Maryellen could remember. Frank and Eva had gotten up early and prepared all her favorites, from black coffee in bed to a breakfast spread of cantaloupe, egg whites, turkey bacon, and even the banana pancakes she nibbled on to show her appreciation.

She slid the cool opal along the chain of her new Mother’s charm necklace, finished unloading the dishwasher, and watched Frank open the shed, pull the outdoor chair cushions from storage, and begin to beat the winter dirt out of them. That he’d taken on the job of getting the patio furniture out and cleaned without having been asked was one of the best presents of all.

She slid open the screen door and joined him on the back deck. “Thinking you might like to have an early dinner out here tonight?”

“Hadn’t thought about it.” He draped a cushion over the railing and began to spray it with the hose. “We certainly could.”

“Let’s do. It’s so beautiful out today.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said.

She turned back for the kitchen to look up a recipe for an appropriately outdoorsy dish he might be willing to throw on the grill to cap off his day of above-average husbandry. But, before she stepped through the sliding doors and back into the house, she stopped and turned back around. “I figured you were hosing off the cushions because you wanted to eat out here.”

“Hope’s coming over in a little while to finalize the plans for this week.” He pointed the sprayer at a chair cushion leaning against one of the deck posts. “I thought she might enjoy sitting outside.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Section 6.2A. Notice of Completion: Upon completion of improvement to property, applicant must give written notice to improvement committee for review and final approval.

N
o matter how faint, Hope was sure she saw a hint of pink running down the results window. If she hadn’t woken up practically every hour and diluted the results by peeing twice, she’d have screamed the good news into the phone to Jim when he called to say he’d landed safely. Instead, she decided to hold her urine all afternoon and evening to take the “bonus” test for absolute confirmation. Once she saw the line again, she’d ring Jim right away and give him the good news. There’d be no tension between them about how long he thought he might be gone, or the details of his job, only excitement, unadulterated joy, and his promise to be home as soon as he could to witness the process of watching her bloom.

In the meantime, she was having the most picture-perfect day ever.

She’d woken up to wonderful, indescribable probability. Floated down the stairs to
not
have coffee. Opened the front door to get the paper, only to discover a loosely tied bouquet of lilies on the front steps. The thank you card, along with a check for the invoice Tim insisted be left on the desk in his office, was as gratifying as she could have imagined.

Hope,

Wonderful doesn’t even begin to describe the presentation that awaited us when we returned home yesterday. Paint swatches lined up and number coded with coordinating fabrics and curtain choices, accessories printed up and organized by price, totally self-explanatory design notebook, and that sample of the flowers along the baseboard blew me away. Theresa is beyond delighted.

Thanks SO much,

Tim

The day only improved from there.

After carefully watching her heart rate at muscle conditioning class and a lunch she capped off with ice cream, she headed out to check on the plant material deliveries at the various playground sites. Under the bluest of skies, replete with puffy clouds and a cool breeze, she oversaw the nursery people as they set the trees, shrubs, and larger plants exactly where they were to be planted the next morning.

The youth group teens arrived right after school to plant the flowerbeds. Any concerns she might still have had about Will Pierce-Cohn being angry with her for getting involved with the playground or quitting the HOB because of her actions vanished when his son, Tyler, showed up with a winning smile and a willingness to do whatever she asked—especially when it meant working alongside that darling Lauren Trautman.

Lauren had rushed over to tell her how totally adorable the nursery plans were, what an amazing surprise it was for her mother, and how her own bedroom was on the list for Hope’s next job. Frank stood beside her under the gazebo while Lauren gushed, nodding approval, but remained mesmerized with the emerging view of their soon-to-be-completed project. The rest of the afternoon was a happy blur of planting, imagining which of the teens her own someday teenage son or daughter would most resemble, and watching her plans morph into a beautiful, blooming reality.

By six, after checking off on all the sites and sending the kids to the rec center for a pizza party, she simply stood for a few quiet minutes and admired just how beautiful all the playgrounds, but especially the one directly opposite her front door, truly were.

A playground outside her front door.

By six-thirty, she was at the rec center standing beside Frank once again and inhaling a slice of gooey, cheese pizza.

Craving more as she ate.

She gobbled her second slice trying not to count down the thirteen minutes until seven, when her urine would definitely be concentrated enough to reveal the distinct pink line. Frank patted her lightly on the back, stood beside her, and whistled to get everyone’s attention.

The room quieted down to a rustle of chewing and soda swilling.

“How about a round of applause to Hope for her landscaping brilliance and to the rest of us for a job well done?” Frank paused for the clapping. “I really want to thank you all for today and I want to thank you in advance for your continuing efforts for Memorial Weekend.”

The kids clapped for themselves again.

“I made two promises in exchange for your help. The first, extra funds for your operating budget, which have already been deposited in your account.” Over the wolf whistles, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Rec center jobs will be filled by the following youth group members: Facilities—Garrett Dines, Sports and Rec—Erin Cohen, Hannah Hunt, and for lifeguards—Heather McDaniel and Lauren Trautman.

“What about me?” Eva Griffin asked.

“I have one more very special announcement,” Frank said.

Hope wasn’t sure what was more telling, his beaming smile or the expectant look on his daughter’s face.

“I am extremely proud to announce that Eva Griffin was nominated and accepted to Young Crusaders for Christ Summer Institute, perhaps the preeminent young Christian Leaders Camp in the country.”

***

“We were starting to think you ran away or something,” one of the twins said as Eva finally made her way into the girls’ bathroom.

“Practically did to get away from my effing lame father.” Eva choked back an angry tear, dipped her finger in Hannah’s pot of Hard Candy lip-gloss, rubbed her lips together, and checked her reflection in the mirror. “I had to tell him I got my period to shut him up from going on about the
honor
of getting to go to that bullshit camp. Then, my mom followed me halfway down the hall babbling how everything is going to work out, as though she believes it or something.”

“You okay?” Hannah asked.

“He can walk all over my mom, but he’s not gonna step on me.” The fact that Lauren chose that moment to emerge from the center stall and head for the trough sink without daring to look up didn’t help matters any. “I know our next spell.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to get rid of my dad.”

Libby’s eyes grew annoying huge. “Kill him?”

“A riddance spell, not a death spell.”

“My bad,” she said. “But isn’t that like a totally advanced spell?”

“We’re skipping the third spell and doubling our power into the fourth.”

“What happened to the second one?”

“Did it myself,” Eva mumbled.

“Tyler’s not going to go for that.” Margaret looked at Lauren for confirmation, like she was his official mouthpiece now. “Is he?”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” Eva said before Lauren could answer.

“What if the spell doesn’t work?”

The door to the bathroom squealed open and next thing she knew, Hope Jordan was standing next to them looking like she’d been part of the conversation all along.

“Cover-up.” Eva looked into Lauren’s makeup bag. “Do you have any? The lights in here make me look dead.”

“Think so,” Lauren said, digging in her purse.

Hope smiled, but disappeared into a stall without a word.

Margaret flashed the
Oh, shit
look.

My dad must have sent her,
Eva mouthed.

“It’s all cool. She’s cool,” Margaret whispered over the sounds of a purse zipper and the rustle of jeans coming down or whatever. “I was watching the door.”

A pained sigh came from Hope’s stall.

“Lauren, your eyeliner is so awesome!” Eva said quickly in her most normal, carefree voice. “What kind is it?”

“Stila.” Lauren still looked stunned but managed to play along. “The color is…”

“Hey,” Hope’s voice cracked as it filtered through the room, like she was super pissed or about to say she’d heard what Margaret claimed she couldn’t possibly have heard.

“You sure?” Eva whispered to Margaret.

“Do any of you have a spare tampon?” Hope asked.

Part II
DEAD
RABBITS
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

General Provision 9.6. Common Property: Certain areas are designated as common property intended for the common use and enjoyment of the owners for their recreation and other related activities.

H
ope celebrated day fourteen of her cycle and the start of Memorial Weekend with a bottle of Gatorade, a ride on her spinning bike, and an unopened ovulation predictor kit for company. Like every morning for the past two weeks, the length of her indoor journey was indefinite.

Jim called an hour and a half into the trip.

“Things are going amazingly well here,” he said.

She twisted the tension knob on her bike upward.

“The president of the company took me out for drinks and confided there are some additional issues he thinks only I can straighten out.”

“Quite a compliment,” she said.

“Tell me about it.” Jim’s excitement was palpable. “Thing is, I’m going to have to push my return date out a little, so I can tour two of the distribution centers.”

She gave the knob another half-twist higher. “What do you mean by a little?”

“I rebooked my flight for the eighth.”

She sighed, partly with relief. He’d still be back long before her next ovulation.

“Honey, I know the timing of this job’s been really hard on you, but if things go the way I’m thinking, my recommendations may help this company keep from laying off anyone but obsolete employees.” He paused. “I could end up as the go-to guy for economic downturn restructuring.”

“That’s great. Really great.” She took a calming sip of Gatorade. “It’s just—”

“Why don’t we plan some kind of getaway together the weekend I’m back? Maybe drive up to Aspen or head down to Santa Fe? Whatever you want.”

“Won’t you be too jet lagged to want to go anywhere else?”

“I’ll have to run to Dallas early that next week to do some number crunching with the officers of the stateside parent company.” He paused. “So there’s no point settling in.”

“I don’t like being apart so much,” she said.

“You have to keep in mind how lucky we are that I even have a job with all the downsizing going on.”

“I know,” she said, “and, I’ve been working my ass off to fill the time and keep my mind off… It’s just that once I got my period…”

“Honey …”

She loosened the tension knob to a flat spin. “Just come home and make me pregnant.”

The whir of the spinning wheels beneath her filled the silence that followed.

“Hope,” he finally said. “The job’s been extended.”

The dreaded butterflies fluttering in her stomach mixed with the adrenaline rushing through her system and settled in her thighs.

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