Free Sweet Expectations by Mary Ellen Taylor Page B

said. “Gosh, I’m sorry.”
    Gosh, I’m sorry.
Margaret hadn’t said
gosh
or
sorry
in a sentence . . . well, ever. She’d basically told Rachel and I in secret sister code,
I wish I’d drenched She Devil.
    â€œHey, good seeing you two.” I hooked my arms into Rachel’s and Margaret’s. Another minute and Margaret would douse Elizabeth, and I might be tempted to help. I pulled my sisters toward our table and we sat. Margaret and Rachel drank heavily, and I was grateful my stomach was settled.
    â€œWhat’s it like to be Elizabeth’s kind of successful?” Rachel said to me. “When you were in D.C. you had her kind of vibe.”
    â€œIt was great. To know you were in a groove. Yeah, great.”
    â€œAnd life sucks for you now?” Rachel said.
    â€œNot exactly sucks. It’s different.”
    Margaret studied me. “Would you go back if you could?”
    In a heartbeat. “I don’t know.”
    Margaret’s gaze narrowed. “Of course you know. You aren’t saying.”
    â€œI’d go back in a snap,” Rachel said. “I wasn’t Elizabeth, but I was in a great place. Hard work and crazy hours, but I really did love my life when Mike was alive.”
    Margaret sipped her beer. “I’ve lots of education and dozens of part-time jobs to look back on, but there’s no great accomplishment. I’m thirty-six and can finally hold my head up when someone asks me what I do for a living.”
    I understood. I held my head high, but it was a lot of bravado these days. “I’m glad you have the job in St. Mary’s. It was made for you.”
    â€œEnjoy it,” Rachel said. “Savor every moment.”
    Margaret frowned. “You make it sound like it’s not going to last.”
    I wished I could have said otherwise but having a company shot out from under me had changed my worldview. “I hope it lasts forever.”
    Margaret held up her half-full beer mug. “A statement loaded with enthusiasm.”
    Rachel shook her head. “The fact is, Margaret, it doesn’t matter how hard you love your work, sometimes life dumps on you. You can fight, scream, scrap, or beg, but life doesn’t give a shit and it takes what it wants.”
    Jobs came and went and some really were terrific . . . really terrific, but losing family was a game changer.
    Adding family also changed the game. What had Mom always said in high school?
For God’s sake, whatever you do, don’t get pregnant.
Damn.
    â€œI don’t want you to leave. Crap, Margaret, we were getting into a groove,” Rachel mumbled. “I know you have to go, but I’m not going to like it.”
    Margaret was silent, and I could see leaving wasn’t going to be easy. When I’d left the bakery at eighteen, I’d been full of steam and had no intentions of looking back. But Margaret had stayed in Alexandria and had tried to help when she could. Yeah, she could be bitchy and grumpy but she was loyal to the bone.
    â€œI swear on Mom and Dad’s lives if you stay, I will kill you,” I said.
    Rachel finished her beer. “Ditto.”

Chapter Five

    Sunday, 9:00 P.M.
    12 days, 10 hours until grand reopening
    Income Lost: $0
    B y the time I climbed the stairs to my room, my limbs drooped as if each weighed thousands of pounds. My stomach was settled, but my head pounded.
    It had always seemed if you were carrying life inside of you, you’d feel good and full of energy. It never occurred to me you’d feel as if a truck had slammed into you. Mom and Rachel both had had great pregnancies. Tons of energy and no morning sickness. But I didn’t share their genetics. I shared my birth mother Terry’s DNA.
    Terry and I had reunited a couple of months ago. It had not been a greeting-card moment but rather a tense and very trying meeting. She’d been more nervous than me, and