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I struggle to put together the words. It’s amazing? It’s stupendous? Everything I could say falls completely short.
Loretta announced her retirement when Tabby took Giorgio to our favorite bar. It was all just a marvelous coincidence. Loretta made the announcement and bought the bar around of drinks. Giorgio made her an offer to purchase the place on the spot. After decades of holding out and turning down offer after offer, something about Giorgio made her say yes.
“It’s perfect,” he smiles. “It’s exactly what I always wanted.”
“You guys,” I sigh happily, overwhelmed beyond the capacity of my vocabulary.
Forget it. I’m not going to be able to say how I feel. I will just have to smile at them until they understand.
And they do seem to. People around us notice too, the way all three of us are just beaming at each other like dumbstruck victims of an absurd amount of happiness.
“What are we all smiling about?” Cal asks, appearing at my elbow and handing me a mimosa.
I start to take a sip, but the sugar and acidity of the juice seem to disagree with me right now. Irving arrives with a smoothie.
“Oh, I see you already have a drink,” he comments.
“Actually, that looks amazing,” I remark, taking the pink beverage from his hand.
It seems to be strawberry and vanilla, perhaps with a bit of apple in it. The first sip is amazing, and I hand the mimosa back to Calvin.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “It was really nice of you to bring it.”
“No trouble at all,” he shrugs, drinking half of it in one swig. “You can have whatever you want, whenever you want.”
He kisses me on the top of my forehead, right at my hairline. Irving beams triumphantly, apparently proud of his smoothie victory.
“I thought you didn’t like strawberries,” Tabby remarks suspiciously.
“Yeah, weird, right?” I answer. “I don’t. But this? Seriously delicious. Really. Do you want some?”
She narrows her eyes and tips her head at an angle.
“You’ve gained weight,” she comments.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well, so have you!”
She points at my chest. “Did you get a boob job?”
“Tabby!”
Pursing her lips imperiously, she crosses her arms over her chest and huffs.
“Opal Curie, I do believe you are pregnant.”
Everybody gasps. I mean everybody. I mean, Richard Branson, Warren Buffett, Lady Gaga, Jeff Bezos, and Steve Easterbrook all practically drop their beverages in unison.
“Tabby!”
Irving and Cal immediately move into formation, flanking me protectively so that we can have a quick meeting.
“Opal? Is that possible?” Irving asks urgently.
“Opal?” Cal pipes in, completely confused.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I mean, of course it’s possible. Anything is possible. But…”
I rack my brain, counting backward to my last period. When was that exactly? It’s hard to say. The days go by so quickly here, there’s so much to do, that I usually don’t even know what day of the week it is. I mean…
