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Grace started to ask a question, but Spencer caught her eyes. When he shook his head almost imperceptibly, she forked a spoonful of salad and chewed with relish.
Spencer asked Emily, “Are you finishing lunch? Or do you need to go?”
“No, I’m good. I guess I’ll be available for dinner on Sunday as well,” she told Grace.
“Six o’clock, as usual?” asked Spencer.
“Did we invite you, Spencer? I thought this was a girls’ night.” Hannah stuck out her tongue.
“Fine,” he smirked. “Are you cooking?”
“Hey, Spencer. Can we have shrimp scampi this week? You know, since Emily’s coming?” asked Claire.
“But that’s your favorite, Claire. Maybe Emily doesn’t like it.”
“I like everything. Well, except for liver. And eggplant. And mountain oysters. Other than that, we’re good.”
“Too bad,” Spencer chuckled. “I was really hoping to do mountain oysters.”
“What’s mountain—” Claire began.
“Don’t ask,” said Olivia. “I’ll tell you later.”
“I’ll bring dessert. Do you like Hello Dolly Bars?” asked Emily.
“Do they have chocolate in them?” asked Hannah.
“Of course… Dessert has chocolate by definition.”
“This is fun, isn’t it, Spencer?” Grace’s eyes were twinkling. “You should have introduced us to all your many, many female friends.”
Emily watched as he glared at Grace, the muscles in his jaw clenching. But he didn’t respond to her provoking comment. How many female friends had he had over the years? He was awfully good-looking—of course he’d had a lot of girlfriends. Perhaps she could find out at dinner tomorrow night. In fact, she might learn a lot at the Marshall family dinner.
Chapter Four
Anne felt like warmed-over death. And she looked like it, too. She stared at her drawn face in the mirror. She pulled out her concealer and dabbed it under her eyes to camouflage the huge dark circles. Then she rummaged through the back of her drawer, searching for powder blush to lend an appearance of color. Inspecting her work, she told herself she looked halfway normal. Hopefully, she look
ed good enough to pass the inspection of her daughter who was on her way up. Her husband had already seen how bad she looked. He was getting a full-blown trial of the “for worse” part of his recent wedding vows.
Why did she feel so terrible with this pregnancy? Her first two had been easy, and she felt terrific the whole time. Of course, she was in her early twenties when she had Emily and Charlotte. She’d had a little morning sickness, but nothing like she was experiencing now. The nausea meds prescribed by the doctor provided little relief for her severe symptoms. She had hoped fervently she’d eventually adjust, praying each day her symptoms would improve. But so far, she found it almost impossible to keep anything in her stomach.
She spied her husband behind her, watching her in the mirror, his face clearly exhibiting the emotions warring inside him. Whoever said men don’t have any feelings had never met her husband. He had them in droves, and most of them were intense.
“I look bad… I’m afraid for Emily to see me.”
“If you’d tell her the truth, it wouldn’t be a problem. I really don’t like lying to her, and I’m having to do it a lot. Have you considered how angry she’ll be when she finds out the truth?”
“I know, but I’m just not ready.”
He sighed. It seemed like he was doing a lot of sighing these days. “Have you had anything to drink today?”
“I liked those ice chips you brought me. And I ate a cracker.”
“And they stayed down?”
“Well... Not exactly.” She felt tears forming, and she turned away, blinking rapidly.
She found herself enveloped in his arms. “Don’t worry. We’re already planning to go back for an IV this afternoon; you’ll feel better soon.”
