Page 33 of In a Word, Yes

“At Bible study?” I say to be helpful. “I mean, you never mentioned you were looking for more responsibility.”

Her eyes round in an expression that looks like ... horror. What did I say? “But you’ll do great,” I hurry to add. “I’m sure! It’s just that I didn’t even know you were looking for that sort of thing.”

“Lucy, what is the matter with you? Why would you even say—”

I seem to be completely botching this. “Sorry. Sorry. I guess I should have led withpresident of what?”

“President?”

“Your message.”

“What are you even talking about?” Savannah scans the place, as if for some reason privacy is required. There are no lingering customers, and Ian is busy arranging chairs in the adjacent reading room, a soft-carpeted space anchored by an ornate red velvet settee and surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

“President ... that’s not what I...” Savannah snags her cell phone from under the counter. “Oh my gosh—stupid spell-check! I’m not president of anything, Lucy.” Again she looks around, then shout-whispers, “I’m pregnant!”

“You’re...” I slap my hand over my mouth. “Wait,what?”

She nods.

“Really? You’re ... going to have a baby?”

In contrast to Savannah, who’s weirdly subdued and suppressing a smile, the joyous shriek that comes out of me next is shocking. Didn’t even know I could hit such a high note. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, Savannah, can I...” I blaze around to her side of the counter. “I have to hug you!”

Savannah’s going to have a baby.The possibility would never have occurred to me. She and Lucas have only been married for, what, six months?

We descend into laughter, and Savannah’s color returns.

“I’m just in shock,” I say.

“How do you thinkIfeel? You’re right, we weren’t trying. Not at book club, anddefinitelynot at Bible study.”

Our next round of snickers draws Ian to my side. “Pardon me, ladies,” he says with his playful British lilt. “What are you two going on about? More importantly, can I get in on it?” Savannah and I break apart with a shared smile. I can’t stop staring at her and shaking my head in disbelief.

Ian looks adorably expectant. But when I eye Savannah—oh, fiddlesticks. I doubt those flushed cheeks are already the glow of pregnancy. More likely, she hasn’t yet shared the news with her boss.

Based on the way Savannah stumbles over her response, things around here are about to grow even more awkward. I begin to excuse myself, but just then the door opens, and a petite, elderly raisin of a woman bustles inside. Ian excuses himself instead.

She’s not much for eye contact, I notice as Ian escorts the woman past the counter. Her pinched features would seem to indicate that she’s in some kind of pain, or maybe that she’s been disappointed with life since 1975.

“Savannah,” Ian says, “mind starting an Earl Grey Bouquet for Sunny?”

“The one with no caffeine!” the woman squawks over her shoulder as she follows Ian into the reading room.

“Sunny?” I whisper. “Her name is...”

“That’s Ian’s next-door neighbor,” Savannah says with a small shrug. “She’s mostly harmless.”

I watch not-so-sunny Sunny arrange herself on the red settee in the other room, then remove a notebook from her purse. Poor woman. Whatever tonight’s meeting is about must be grim. Definitely not the Red Hat Society. Homeowner’s association?

“I still can’t believe you’re pregnant,” I say, turning back to Savannah. “How are you feeling?”

She removes a jar from the apothecary shelf on the wall behind her and measures out a scoop of tea. The air blooms with citrus and florals. “To tell you the truth, Lucy, I don’t know.” She adds hot water with the push of a button and steam rises. She sets a digital timer. “It’s so surreal. I mean, are we ready for this? Between you and me, Lucas and I had a plan, and this wasn’t it. I can’t help thinking...”

I wait.

Her chin trembles. “Lucy, look around us. You see how things are. What kind of world are we bringing a child into?”

I draw a deep, steadying, here-we-go-again breath.