Page 16 of Cowboys at Coconuts

Confused, Suzy said, “Uh, no. I’m here for my prenatal appointment.” She paused and rubbed her pregnant belly.

A pink hue crept across the young mother’s cheeks. “Sorry. I thought you were the grand—” She pushed the stroller toward another empty seat. “Never mind.”

Suzy waved her hand in the air. “No problem. I am a new grandma—ayounggrandma,” she clarified. “Plus, I’m going to be a mom. Again. My son is grown.” Suzy wondered why she was telling her life story to this pimply faced, pregnant woman.

The young woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Congratulations.”

Across the room, a baby wailed with a high-pitched squeal that could shatter glass. Flinching, Suzy said, “I hope I’m ready for this times two.”

Why doesn’t my husband have to deal with this?Crossing her arms, Suzy felt shame.Why do I care what anyone thinks? I’m going to love these babies. Besides, I’m not old.I’m not even forty. Everyone here is ridiculously young.

Studying the youthful women in the waiting room, for a nanosecond Suzy considered getting a weird piercing or a tattoo.No, I’m going to be myself, a successful wedding planner who has a grown son and a new granddaughter.

The nurse called Suzanne Jacobs. Channeling the confidence of a strutting show dog, Suzy stepped through the door to the patient rooms.

After an examination, Dr. Camejo gave her prenatal vitamins and declared her high risk due to her age and having twins. Putting her head in her hands, Suzy bawled. “I want healthy babies. What can I do?”

Assuring Suzy she’d be fine and that he’d take every precaution and order the proper prenatal testing, Dr. Camejo mentioned he had delivered hundreds of babies and added many of the moms were well into their forties. “A few were even fifty,” he said. Smiling, he pointed to a wall filled with photos of newborns swaddled in blankets or sporting bows on their bald heads.

“Did you deliver all of those newborns?” Suzy eyed the adorable photos with thank-yous and notes of appreciation inscribed on many pictures.

Nodding, he smiled. “Every single one—and mostly in the middle of the night.” Laughing, the middle-aged, kind doctor asked, “Do you have any questions?”

Unable to form coherent thoughts after hearing “high risk,” Suzy shook her head. Dr. Camejo gave her a genuine smile, shook her hand, and told her not to worry. Standing beside her in a long white coat, he patted her on the shoulder. “Call or email anytime you have questions.” Suzy forced a smile as the paper-thin sheet crinkled when she shifted on the table.

After she dressed, Dr. Camejo stood on the other side of the door. As he walked her toward the exit, he grinned. “Please don’t worry. Follow my instructions, take your prenatal vitamins, eat well, get plenty of rest, and this will be a breeze.”

Nodding, Suzy thanked him, paid, and crossed the parking lot in a blur as if she were trudging through a blizzard. After she climbed into her SUV, all could only think about were those two scary words:High risk. Ken will be on full alert if I tell him. He’ll probably never let me out of his sight.

Deciding to get her mind off the visit, Suzy pulled into a drive-thru and ordered the biggest chocolate shake she had ever seen. After slurping half while sitting in her car, she had brain freeze. As she scrolled through her Weddings by Suzanne Facebook page to get her mind on something—anything—else, her stomach churned. Feeling bile rise in her throat, she opened the car door and vomited in the parking lot.I was never sick with Jon. This is not going to be an easy pregnancy.

Chapter 16

Before school began, Hope watched students as they parked their mostly shabby cars with bad paint jobs or bald tires in the Hilltop High School lot. Several kids chatted on the sidewalk or beside their cars. By their body language, Hope could tell the girls were flirting with the boys and vice versa. She grinned.I love my job.

A few minutes before first hour, students ran inside the building, heavy backpacks bouncing and sneakers squeaking on the freshly waxed floors. Scrolling through her appointment list, Hope noticed, as usual, she had appointments with either star students academically or at-risk students. There was rarely anything in between. Realizing she had an hour before her first appointment, she reached for the phone, but a knock on her door made her jump. Glancing up, she was surprised to see Willow, the art teacher.

“Morning,” Hope said.

“It’s the best morning ever, an absolutely perfect morning, in fact.” Willow spoke much faster than usual, sounding like a giddy schoolgirl.

Cocking her head, Hope said, “Someone’s in a good mood.”

Willow waved a piece of paper in the air. “I have very good reason to be.”

Eyes settling on the piece of paper, Hope asked, “What’s that?”

“Just a marriage certificate.” Doing an uncharacteristic twirl, Willow punctuated her glee with a fist pump. Other than her many bangle bracelets clanging together, there was an uncomfortable beat of silence. “Mac and I went to Eureka Springs and got married over the weekend. We even went on a ghost hunt. I love the paranormal. Mac doesn’t believe in ghosts but puts up with it.” Flicking the paper, she said, “Any-hoo! Can you believe it?” Willow waved her miniscule diamond and matching silver band in front of Hope’s face.

Hope’s eyebrows shot up and stayed there. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she gawked at the document dangling from Willow’s hand. After an uncomfortable silence, she found words. “Talk to me like I’m a second grader. You didwhat?” Running her fingers through her unruly hair, she blew out her breath. “How could you?”

Willow huffed. “What do you mean? I thought you were my friend. I thought you’d be excited for me—for us.” Turning on her heel, she stormed out of Hope’s office.

Rolling her chair over a dingy plastic mat, Hope yelled, “Come back.” She ran to the door before Willow was out of sight. “Please come back. Let me explain.”

Hesitating in the hallway, Willow took her sweet time before sitting in a hard chair across from Hope’s desk. “I’m all ears about why you think this is a bad thing. I don’t know why you aren’t happy for Mac and me.”

Hope sat in her ratty office chair, wondering where to begin. “Did you forget about the newspaper article a few months ago featuring the woman in a nursing home? The one who makes macramé plant hangers for the residents?” Hope threw her hands up in the air. “I knew I should have taken Larry to Nashville the minute I read about Montana’s being alive. This is all my fault.”

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