Page 41 of Just Like the Brontë Sisters

“No!” He jumped up from the couch and met her in the middle of the living room, where he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. “Sorry, Hon. Don’t listen to me, I just get into these weird moods sometimes and start talking nonsense. You’re beautiful and that’s what’s real.”

She let him kiss her again because she sort-of believed him. She wanted to believe him, anyway. If Mitch could love the new Jo Beth, the meeker, crazier, pudgier version of who she’d used to be, then she had to give him the benefit of the doubt. If only they could make love. But there was no privacy and besides, Jo Beth felt about as sexy as a potato. Speaking of potatoes, she was hungry. “I thought I’d sauté some potatoes and those beef tips for dinner. Okay?”

“Sure.” Mitch smiled, obviously pleased with whatever, because unlike her, food had not become the very reason for his existence. It was all so unfair.

Twenty minutes later, Magda was out of the shower, food was prepared, and they all sat down for dinner. Jo Beth stabbed at her potato, willing herself not to scarf it down. How could she be so hungry?

“Después de que el bebé llegue podremos hacerlo.” Magda said to Mitch.

“Tal vez. El tiempo dirá,” he replied.

“What are you talking about?” Jo Beth demanded. “Something about the baby?”

“Sorry,” Mitch said. “I keep forgetting. We’ll talk in English now.”

“But what were you saying?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Magda took a sip of wine. “Hey, there aren’t any laxatives in here, are there?”

“That joke just never gets old, does it?” replied Jo Beth.

“You’re lucky we can laugh about it.” Mitch reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

Was that squeeze a little too hard, a little too aggressive? And why wouldn’t they tell her what they’d said? Jo Beth knew it was something about being careful after the baby comes, but she wasn’t sure of the context.

But every day, she grew more and more sure that she shouldn’t trust them.