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But she shut down the machine when Peabody merely stood, gimlet-eyed, actually tapping her foot. “You’re not the work police.” It was said with some bitterness. “You’re the party gestapo.”
“Mavis just called. She didn’t try your ’link because she knew you’d be busy with the shower preparations. She’s on her way over because she can’t wait anymore.”
“Man. I turned my machine off, didn’t I? I’m leaving the office. See, walking out, shutting the door behind me.”
Peabody only smiled. Guilt was the best tool, she knew. She’d learned that one at her mother’s knee.
Eve’s first surprise was that the caterer didn’t want her to do anything. In fact, they wanted Eve and everyone else completely out of the way. Her second was that Summerset had already left the house, and wouldn’t be back until the following day.
“You won’t find any Y chromosomes on the premises this afternoon,” Roarke told her. “Except the cat.”
He stood with Eve in the second-level sitting room. It was larger than the downstairs parlor they used most often, and boasted double fireplaces with malachite surrounds. Sofas, chairs, and an abundance of pillows had been arranged in conversation areas, with a long table, covered now with a rainbow hue of cloths and candles, running along the back wall. Over it, rainbow streamers, pink and blue balloons, and some sort of arty flowered vine flowed out of a sparkling circle and formed a kind of canopy over what Peabody had designated as the gift table.
Baby roses, baby iris, baby’s breath—and an assortment of other baby-type posies Eve had already
forgotten—were spilling out of little silver baskets shaped like cradles.
Buffet tables, also rainbow-hued, were already set up. The caterer had dressed one with china following the color scheme, more miniature candles, more flowers, and an ice sculpture of a stork carrying a little sack in its beak.
Eve had been sure it would be silly, and instead it was sort of charming.
Both fires simmered low, and in the center of it all the rocker was draped in rainbows and decked in flowers.
“I guess it looks pretty good.”
“Very sweet.” Roarke took her hand. “Very female. Congratulations.”
“I didn’t do that much.”
“That’s not true. You dragged your feet every chance you got, but you picked them up and did the job.” He brought her hand to his lips, then leaned down to kiss her.
“Oops.” Peabody stopped in the doorway and grinned. “Don’t mean to interrupt if the stork and all the cradles are giving you guys ideas.”
“Don’t make me hurt you,” Eve warned.
“I’ve got Mavis out here. I thought maybe you’d want to show her in.”
“Has pregnancy affected her eyesight?”
“No, I just—never mind,” Peabody said with a laugh. “Okay, Mavis.”
She might have been carrying an extra twenty pounds, but Mavis could still bounce. She all but boinged into the room on pink airboots that slicked up to her knees. Her blue and white skirt fluttered like flower petals beneath the basketball bulge of her belly. The sleeves of her dress displayed a geometric pattern of color that came to points over the backs of her hands.
Her hair—a soft, pale blonde today—was scooped back in a long, twisty tail as bouncy as she was.
She stopped short, slapped both hands over her mouth. And burst into tears.
“Oh shit. Oh shit” was all Eve could manage.
“No, no, no.” Still sobbing, even as Leonardo rushed in behind her, Mavis waved one of her hands. “I’m so knocked-up. I’m a total victim of the hormones. It’s so pretty! Oh, oh, it’s all rainbows and flowers. It’s so mag. It’s so mag, Dallas.”
She sobbed her way across the room and threw herself into Eve’s arms—bulging belly first.
“Okay, good then. Glad you like it.”
“I abso love it. Peabody!” Mavis flung out a hand, pulling Peabody into a three-way embrace. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“Maybe you should sit down.”
