Free Hourglass by Myra McEntire

noticeable.
    I couldn’t even manage a normal social exchange with a dead guy.
    “Em?” Dru knocked on my door.
    Feeling like I’d been caught doing something naughty, I jumped up from the bed. “Yes?”
    “Who are you talking to?”
    “No one, just … oomph—” I backed away from Jack and managed to trip over my ottoman in the process. “I was reading out loud.”
    “Open the door. I want to show you the baby bedding I bought.”
    “Sure, just a sec.” Staring at the doorknob, I realized I hadn’t locked it. It didn’t really matter if Dru came in or not because she wouldn’t be able to see Jack. But the thought of trying to have a conversation with her while he stood next to me … no way.
    I scrambled to my feet and turned to tell him he needed to disappear.
    He was already gone.

    In addition to bedding, Dru purchased possibly every article of gender-neutral baby clothing in the entire town of Ivy Springs. She sorted it into groups on the four-poster king-sized bed she shared with my brother, and the cream lace coverlet was completely hidden underneath the piles.
    “Emerson, I wanted to apologize,” Dru said, folding up a tiny T-shirt imprinted with the words SPIT HAPPENS .
    “For what?”
    “Running you off when Thomas and I, uh, celebrated our pregnancy news.” Her face turned the same tomato red as the bedroom walls. Mine grew hot, and probably the same color as hers. I welcomed the cool breeze flowing through the open window and stirring the pale window sheers. Dru cleared her throat and continued. “We could’ve been a little more discreet.”
    “It’s okay,” I mumbled, ducking my head and kneeling to retrieve a tiny sock that had escaped to the hardwood floor.
    “No, it isn’t. This is your home, and you should feel comfortable in it.”
    “I do.” I smiled up at her. “You and Thomas are going to be wonderful parents. And I know how long you’ve … wanted a baby.”
    Dru rubbed her midsection as tears formed in her eyes. I stood and focused intently on finding the mate for the sock in the pile of clothes on the bed. According to Thomas, they’d started talking about babies on their honeymoon. It was never openly discussed, but I knew the past few years had been filled with disappointment.
    “You know,” she said softly, her voice trembling, “we decided we’re going to name the baby after your mom or dad. Clarissa if it’s a girl, Sean if it’s a boy.”
    I would not cry. I just wouldn’t. “I know they’d love that,” I whispered. “I mean, I know they would’ve loved that.”
    “So, it’s okay with you?” Dru asked, removing her hand from her stomach and picking up a chenille blanket.
    “Why wouldn’t it be?”
    Dru fiddled with the blanket’s fringe, twisting and untwisting. “You’ll have children one day. I didn’t know if maybe, you’d want to …”
    “Me? No way,” I said, trying to laugh it off, failing. The only way I’d ever experience children would be vicariously, as the spinster aunt living in a tiny house with thirty cats. And possibly some dead people. The muscles in my face wouldn’t cooperate with the smile I tried to force. “I don’t think I’ll ever get married, much less have children. Whether I want to or not. That’s all so … normal. I’m not.”
    She put down the blanket and reached out to take my hand and give it a comforting squeeze. “Thomas told me you’re seeing them again.”
    “Bad news travels fast.” My stomach dropped all the way down to my shoes. I pulled my hand away and turned back to the bed to continue sorting through the tiny clothes, searching blindly for the elusive sock with the yellow chick on it.
    “Maybe it’s not bad news. Maybe it’s serendipitous, perfect timing. Thomas really seems to think Michael will be able to help you.”
    “Or he could end up being as bad as all the rest of them.” Or worse. Because from our first conversation I’d hoped for so much more from him, and now I didn’t