Page 55 of Twin Babies For The Grump

Or just having him here with me.

No, not that.

I need to make up my mind about this before I let him talk me out of what I need to do.

My grip tightens on the wheel when I notice the gas light blinking.

“Great. Just what I needed,” I mutter.

I focus my gaze on my surroundings for the first time since I got in the car this morning.

With the windows down, fresh summer air comes crashing into the car. The fields of Napa Valley are endless, curling around me in shades of green and purple, splashed through with white. The blue of the sky turns it into an oil painting, clouds, and sunlight both smearing over the world above me.

I make another turn and head to the gas station that’s at the four-way. I pull into it, park in front of one of the pumps, and take one last moment to pull myself together before getting out of the car.

I slide my card into the machine and wait for the tank to fill when another wave of nausea hits me. I stay as still as I can until I’m done and then get back in the car and toward the parking lot behind the station.

It’s still quite early so I’m sure few people will be there on a Sunday morning. Besides, the gas station attendant has seen people in a messier state than me, so I’m not horribly concerned about the lack of makeup or messy hair.

A few minutes later, once I’m sure I won’t be running to the bathroom the moment I step inside, I make my way to the station. As expected, there’s only a young woman behind the coffee counter and the few tables lined up on the right, next to the window wall, are empty.

I brace both arms on the counter and I’m about to make my order when I hear the door open and then someone say my name.

“Tess?”

Oh, no.

“Adela!” I try to force a smile but can’t get it to fully reach my eyes.

Adela looks me over and then throws her arms around me in a hug, pulling me closer without saying anything.

She knows.

My legs start shaking and that wave of nausea is back on.

“Tess,” says Adela, “Breathe.”

“You saw it,” I say, the words barely a whisper. When she pulls back, I wipe my face. “I knew it. I knew that everyone would have already seen it.”

“Is it true?” Adela asks, her voice low so that the woman behind the counter can’t hear us. It doesn’t matter. By the look she gives me, she’d heard the news too. Everyone around here knows each other, especially in places like this.

Looking down, I swallow hard, and nod. Then shake my head. “I mean, sort of. What was said about me being the manager, that’s— I got this job because I worked hard for it. It doesn’t have anything to do with the rest of it, Adela. I swear it doesn’t.”

“Oh, honey, I would never think that! I’ve seen you work for this position since Thomas first hired you,” says Adela. “You were always bound to be the manager of the winery. I’m actually surprised that it took this long to happen.” And then, “But, the rest of it? You and Owen? Are you really…?”

I bite my lower lip and give a small nod, one hand lowering to press against my belly. “I am. I don’t know how Macy found out, but Iknowthat she’s the one who did this. She told everyone, Adela. And now everyone’s going to believe what she said about me!”

Adela puts a hand on my shoulder to comfort me, then gestures at the tables. I make my way to the one on the far end and wait for her to come back with two cups of coffee and a plate of bite-sized sandwiches.

“Tess,” she says as she sits across from me, her voice soft with a hint of disbelief. “No one will believe that. No one. And I don't think this is the time to be worrying about this. I mean—congratulations, honey. You're going to be a mother.

“I am,” I say, the corners of my mouth going up for a brief second.

But being branded as someone who slept her way to the top is hard to swallow.

Everyone at work will hear that story if they haven’t already, and not only them. My parents, my friends, the people I see when running errands around the city, like the attendant who’s pretending to clean the empty table next to us all of a sudden.

Adela turns around to see what I’m looking at. I don’t know what her expression is like when she meets the other woman’s gaze, but it’s enough to have her rush back to her original post. But when she turns around, her features are as soft as ever.

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