Free Christmas Bliss by Mary Kay Andrews Page A

today. So I won’t. I’ll just say we’re very, very happy to see you so happy these days.”
    I leaned over and kissed her papery cheek, then took my finger and rubbed at the lipstick smudge I’d left.
    *   *   *
    Somehow I managed to get through the rest of the fun and games. I opened what seemed like an endless array of gifts, smiling and exclaiming at the usefulness of everything.
    “It’s all so sweet,” I said when Merijoy’s rug was covered in what seemed like a foot of crumpled paper and ribbon. Weezie was busily loading my gifts into a gleaming European stroller, and Merijoy was bundling the rest of them into an antique wicker cradle that had been her gift to me.
    “Thank you, everybody,” I said, gazing around at the circle of women. These were my people—friends and near friends, relatives and neighbors. An imperfect circle, but mine nonetheless. And it struck me that Weezie was right. These women were here because they were happy for me and wanted to celebrate the birth of my baby. Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was the shadow of Richard looming large in my subconscious, but suddenly I was feeling all weepy and grateful, maybe even just a tad gracious.

 
    Chapter 8
     
    After we’d finally managed to wedge all my loot into the backseat and trunk of my car, I was only too happy to accept Weezie’s offer to drive me home. My lower back was aching and I was exhausted. I laid my head back and closed my eyes for what seemed like a matter of seconds, but before I knew it, we were parked in front of the Breeze Inn, and Weezie was gently shaking me awake.
    “Home sweet home,” she said, pointing at the blinking neon “No Vacancy” sign. I yawned widely.
    “Are you all right?” she asked, peering over to check my face in the fading light. “You look kind of pale.”
    “Just tired,” I said, stifling another yawn. I glanced around the parking lot, hoping to see Harry’s truck, but it wasn’t there.
    “Is Harry coming back from his fishing trip tonight?” Weezie asked, realizing what I was looking for.
    “Don’t know. He took one of his rich snowbird clients early this morning, and he wasn’t sure how far south they’d go before they started catching fish. He usually calls around six to touch base with me.”
    She got out of the car and hurried around to open the trunk and start unloading my gifts. It took us three trips to get it all into the apartment, where Jeeves immediately busied himself circling the packages, sniffing expectantly.
    “Sorry, pal, no dog biscuits or bones in there,” Weezie said, scooping the dog up into her arms and allowing him to lick her face.
    “Sit down,” she said, pointing at the armchair Jeeves had only recently vacated. “I’m going to fix you some hot tea. What about dinner? Are you hungry?”
    “Tea would be nice, but no dinner. I think I ate my weight in those damn Christmas cookies.”
    “It was a really lovely party, I thought,” Weezie called from the kitchen. “Except for those stupid, horrible games.”
    “Who even thinks that stuff up?” I demanded. “Making people chug from baby bottles? And did you see how long my cousin Mary Elizabeth’s string was? She obviously thinks I’m the size of a cruise ship. Or maybe an aircraft carrier. I swear, that string was at least three yards long.”
    “Mary Elizabeth might want to take a peek in her own mirror before she goes thinking about how big you are,” Weezie said tartly. “Cuz there’s enough room on that back porch of hers to hang a swing and a glider!”
    “I noticed you were on the phone for a pretty long time right about then,” I said. “Or was that just a ruse so you didn’t have to participate in the fun and games?”
    She came into the living room and sat down on the chair across from mine. “I was talking to Daniel. He sounded so unhappy. So lonely. He’s got an awful cold, and he finally admitted he’s not sleeping, and there’s no real food in the apartment