Page 21 of His Tenth Dance

“Hey, guys.” Opal moved around to hug everyone hello, and then all eyes came to her. Her mouth suddenly felt like she’d been snacking on cotton all day.

“We have the food in here,” Tag started, and his voice thawed the freeze that had come over Opal. His hand landed on her hip, giving her a steadying warmth, and she managed to draw a breath.

“But I’ve set the table out on the back deck,” she added. “It’s completely shaded, and we’ve got overhead fans too.”

She loved her covered back deck, and it was such a beautiful time of year. The summer hadn’t gotten too hot yet, and the view of the rolling farmland stretching out behind their little house was too perfect not to share.

“Thanks for cookin’ for us, Opal.” Tucker grinned at her, and she took a quick step to block him from being the first to pick up his plate. He blinked at her, and Opal had no idea what showed on her face, but Tucker fell back to Bobbie Jo’s side.

“We have an announcement before we eat,” Opal said. She looked over to Tag, knowing he wouldn’t tell their loved ones unless she made him.

She didn’t want him to anyway.

Her soul filled with love as she gazed at her husband, and she transferred that out to everyone who’d come for this Sabbath Day luncheon. “Tag and I are going to have a baby.”

After a single beat of silence, Gerty squealed, and Mike whistled shrilly through his teeth. Bobbie Jo started to whoop and clap, as did everyone else.

“Daddy, too loud,” West complained, pulling on the hem of Mike’s shirt. He didn’t look down at him at all, and Opal stepped away from Tag to receive Gerty’s hug.

“When are you due?” she asked.

Opal sniffled, her tears seemingly so close to the surface all the time lately. She pulled back and wiped her eyes. “December,” she said.

“Right after Christmas,” she heard Tag tell Mike and Steele.

She turned to face her brother, and Mike had nothing but joy in his expression. “Congratulations, sissy,” he said as he engulfed her in a bear hug. “I guess you’ve told Momma and Daddy.”

“Yes.” Opal once again clung to him, so many of her dreams coming true with this one thing. She’d tried not to attach all of her happiness on being a mother, but it had happened all the same.

She moved back, and Bobbie Jo took Mike’s place, beaming as she hugged Opal. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Deacon offered a rare, full smile. “Congratulations,” he said simply, but the warmth in his eyes spoke volumes. Mission and Tarr added their congratulations, both looking genuinely pleased despite not being as close to Opal as the others.

Steele hung back, but when Opal caught his eye, he gave her a shy smile and a thumbs up that made her laugh through her tears.

“Westy,” Mike said, turning to his son. “Did you hear? Auntie Opal is going to have a baby. You’re going to have a little cousin to play with.”

West looked up, his big brown eyes curious. “Baby?” he repeated.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Opal said, sinking into the couch near where he played. She got right back to her feet, because she had no time to rest right now. “Let’s eat.” She scurried into the kitchen, ready to move on with the day now that the news didn’t live inside her anymore.

In the kitchen, Gerty cornered her with a knowing look. “How have you really been feeling? And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ business.”

Opal sighed, allowing herself to be honest now that the announcement was made. “Exhausted. Nauseous. Terrified.” She smiled weakly. “But also happier than I’ve ever been.”

Gerty nodded, understanding in her eyes. “The first trimester is the worst,” she said. “It gets better, I promise. We’re just down the road for anything you need.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Opal said. “I have about a million questions.”

“Ask away,” Gerty said, stacking plates in the sink. “Though I’m no expert.”

“You’re here, though,” Opal said, missing her mother powerfully in that moment. She told herself women all over the world went through pregnancies and had babies without their mothers living next door. She could too.

“Molly’s not far away,” Gerty said. “Are your parents going to come down?”

“At Thanksgiving,” Opal said. “They’ll stay until the baby is born.”

“And then some,” Tag said, sidling up to them. “Baby-bee, I’m gonna pray, okay? Tucker’s already eating his second roll.”

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