Free Mom's the Word by Marilynn Griffith

man I didn’t like.” And just like that, she’d made up her mind to like Neal as much she sometimes pretended to dislike Dyanne.
    Fallon turned to the door to wave to Neal as he brought in her luggage before assessing the fruit. “I see you found a decent store out here in this wilderness. I was thinking there would be some good mango down here in Florida. It looks good, but this fruit ain’t tasting like much. We’re going to have to stock up in Miami.”
    Dyanne took a breath. Miami was not on Fallon’s book tour schedule. In fact, the tour wasn’t even supposed to start for another month. She still wasn’t sure why Fallon was in her house, how she’d found it or how long she planned to stay—although the entire Louis Vuitton luggage collection Neal had just deposited in her living room gave her some idea. There was no point in trying to rush Fallon. If Dyanne were honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. As much as they fought, somewhere along the way, the two of them had become friends. They just knew better than to admit it.
    â€œAnyway,” Fallon screamed over the whir of the blender creating the awful-looking green mango-spinach drink she loved above all else. “Steve and I got to talking about this Jesus thing and he was saying how sometimes he wondered about everything, too. You know, God and all?”
    She stopped and lifted the lid of the Vita Mix, stirring things around. “He’s getting old, you know. Even rich men start thinking about God when they realize they’re not Him. It’s always a shock, I think. Anyway, I told Steve about how Jesus brought me through when my husband took up with that girl and left me, how He helped me get through school and showed me how to write books to help folks…and he got real quiet. Sort of like you are right now.”
    Dyanne was quiet. She loved Fallon, but the way she could just disarm herself and strip bare, unloading her life in front of strangers, or worse yet, people she knew, like Steve Chaise, made Dyanne crazy.
    And yet, backstage at that Gospel Broadcasting set, Dyanne had found herself swaying into the curtains with teary eyes, feeling weak and emotional. She’d wondered then if she wasn’t already pregnant. It’d be an easier explanation than her show of feeling. She wondered if she’d ever be pregnant now. Fallon still had a bomb to drop, and Dyanne wasn’t sure that she’d be able to catch it this time.
    Fallon reached up and got two goblets and poured some of her Green Mama as she called it into both glasses until they were half-full. Dyanne took a sip without a fight, knowing that it always tasted better than it looked. Besides, the last pregnancy book she’d read had said that nutrition six months before conception was as important, if not more, than nutrition during pregnancy. Maybe there was hope of a baby after all since she was still thinking about such things.
    â€œSteve and I talked about it and we agreed that I should write an inspirational book. You know, what I normally do, but with Bible verses and my testimony. He has some big people lined up for the launch of the Christian line evidently and he wants this book—”
    Dyanne managed to swallow. “What book?”
    â€œThe one I came here to write. Pay attention, girl. It has to be done by the end of the month and then we’re off on tour. Surprise! Now, where’s my bed?”
    After clutching the counter, Dyanne tossed back her whole glass of green mush, swallowed hard and pointed upstairs. It was all she had the strength to do.
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    â€œIt’s not so bad. It might even be fun having Fallon here,” Neal said the next evening while caressing Dyanne’s back. “Look at the upside, you’ll probably get a juicy bonus out of this and you didn’t even know what was going on.”
    Dyanne sighed and lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s just