Page 4 of Over and Above (Mount Hope #4)
Chapter Four
Eric
“July is the worst month for morning sickness.” Maren sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, two weeks removed from her big announcement. The entire household now revolved around her nausea. Which, honestly, I was okay with because it kept the focus off the bigger questions about the future. In the present moment, we were all trying to help Maren make it through the first trimester.
“More like all-day sickness.” Wren gestured at the clock over the stove. In the summer, our family schedule tended to get mixed up, but it was after lunchtime by most measures. I’d come off a shift at six a.m. and really should have been sleeping, but worry over Maren pushed me to stay awake. Wren fetched a pitcher of greenish-brown liquid from the fridge, helpfully labeled For Maren as if the rest of us might be tempted to steal it. “Have you tried the tea I created?”
“No offense, Wren, but that looks like swamp juice and smells even worse.” Maren wrinkled her nose and waved away the pitcher of tea.
“It’s based on scientific studies about the merits of ginger and other herbs versus prescription anti-nausea meds in the first trimester.” Disregarding Maren’s refusal, Wren poured a glass of tea anyway and set it in front of Maren.
“And the medicines also work.” I’d been advocating for that for days now because Maren’s morning sickness was starting to look like hyperemesis. However, Maren continued to be frosty toward me and any advice I wanted to dispatch. “Honey, I’m happy to take you into urgent care if you continue to be unable to keep anything down. Hyperemesis isn’t anything to mess with.”
“No, thank you. And I can’t stomach the tea, but I’ll try some toast before Diesel gets here.” Maren pushed the tea aside as she slid off the stool. She wore a loose T-shirt and shorts, but by my eye, she’d lost rather than gained weight, contributing to my worries.
“Diesel is coming over?” I hoped my upbeat tone didn’t sound too fake. If I was too neutral, Maren tended to interpret that as an anti-Diesel stance, so I was working on sounding positive even if I still didn’t much like the kid.
“Apparently, he’s also worried about me and dehydration. Wren isn’t the only one reading up on the first trimester.” Maren offered a small, dreamy smile. “He’s bringing me a cherry limeade from that place downtown that uses real ingredients, not chemicals.”
“That’s very thoughtful of him.” There. I even managed a compliment. I was congratulating myself on my restraint when Declan, Jonas’s boyfriend and our soon-to-be former roommate, wandered into the kitchen.
“Declan!” Maren greeted him with a hug and decidedly more warmth than she had me. “I thought you guys slept at the new place last night.”
Declan and Jonas were renovating an old farmhouse on some property outside of Mount Hope, and the work had reached a point where it was at least somewhat habitable.
“We did. I came by for one final load. Now, the basement is ready to return to being a rec room or whatever else your dad dreams up.” Declan nodded at me, but before I could reply, Wren spoke up, loud as usual.
“I vote for a laboratory.”
“As much as I support your scientific endeavors, we’re not turning the basement into a lab.”
“Darn. I wanted my own mad scientist lair.” Wren cackled before gesturing at the bakery box Declan held. “Are those cookies?”
“Yep.” Declan opened the box. Wren promptly grabbed two before Declan offered the box to Maren. “Think you could try one?”
“Sounds better than toast, honestly.” She delicately selected an oatmeal raisin.
“How goes things at your house?” I asked Declan while Maren and Wren ate their cookies.
“It’s livable.” Declan’s expression was sheepish like he was reluctant to be too enthusiastic about the new place. “Speaking of renovations, I can ask our contractor about availability if you need help with whatever you decide to do with the basement.”
“We’ll be fine.” I clapped him on the back. “Stop feeling guilty.”
“Oh, the cookie was a bad, bad idea.” Maren dashed from the kitchen at top speed.
“Is she going to be okay?” Declan asked me, forehead creasing with concern.
“Probably. A lot of pregnant people struggle with nausea, but I wish she’d let me take her in for a prescription and maybe some IV fluids. Is Jonas working? I was hoping maybe he could convince her.”
As much as I enjoyed Declan’s company, he was younger and a former motocross racer, whereas Jonas and I had twenty-plus years of friendship and shared medical experience to draw on.
“Yeah, this is his first week at the family practice. Regular hours.” Declan fist-pumped as his voice took on a cheery tone. “He’ll still pick up a few shifts at the ER, though, especially when I’m not in town.”
“How’s your commentating gig going?” I glanced at the hallway, waiting for Maren to reappear.
“Really well. I like it more than I expected. I miss Jonas when I’m on the road, but it feels good to still be connected to the sport.” Declan smiled broadly. He was cute, with chiseled features and auburn hair. I could see what Jonas saw in him. “Speaking of being in town, why don’t you let Jonas and me take you out? You need a break, and we’ve been considering trying the new menu at The Heist.”
Fuck. I’d avoided The Heist and Magnus since I sought him out after Maren’s big announcement. He’d had some wise words and had defused my initial anger, allowing me to move on to other, more complicated emotions. However, I still wasn’t eager to see the guy again. “I don’t?—”
“All better.” Maren’s return saved me from having to come up with an excuse. She crossed to the fridge, where she made herself a glass of water only to sniff it and make a face. “I know I need water, but it tastes weird to me.”
Setting the cookie box on the counter, Declan made a sympathetic noise. “Flat ginger ale? That’s one of my go-to hangover remedies.”
“We’re out.” Maren’s disappointed sigh made me want to go on a grocery run right that minute. Before I could grab my keys, Diesel appeared at the kitchen door, bouncing around like a blue-haired poodle.
“My lady.” He did an exaggerated bow for Maren, handing her a large plastic cup. “I believe you requested a limeade.”
“Yes. Thank you.” She took a healthy sip. Her voice sounded stronger than it had all day, so I supposed that was one point for Diesel. “I feel bad making you bring me a drink on your day off.”
“Hey, I’m more than happy to do it.” He gave her a one-armed hug while she continued to sip her drink through a straw. And to my utter shock, Maren leaned against him. She’d never been big on touch or hugs, even with close friends, but here she was, letting Diesel hang on her. I remained doubtful about Diesel’s maturity, but perhaps there was a little more between them than a college fling after all.
“How’s work going?” I asked him in a bid to be conversational.
“Great.” Not letting go of Maren, he beamed at me. “I’ve got my forklift certification now, and I put in for a shift lead opening that has better hours.”
“Excellent.” I gave a tight smile. He was trying to be responsible. I could give the kid that, but I continued to struggle to see how he and Maren would make this raising-a-baby thing work.
After Declan left, I excused myself to take a long-overdue nap. Perhaps Magnus had a point. I could be rather cranky. Closer to dinner time, I awoke to a quiet house, which was something I needed to get used to. John was camping with friends. Rowan was already in LA. Wren was quietly occupied in their room on their computer. Maren was lying on the couch in the living room with a damp washcloth on her head, and Diesel sat on the floor next to her.
“Still nauseous?” I came to stand behind the couch, closer to the entryway, feeling rather helpless, which I actively tried to avoid. “What have you kept down?”
“The limeade.” Maren offered a half-smile. “Mostly.”
“No chance I could talk you into some IV fluids?”
“Yeah, because we keep IV kits laying around the house.” Even dehydrated and nauseated, Maren’s eye roll was on point. “I’m fine.”
“Is there anything you think you might keep down for dinner?” Diesel asked before I could.
“Some of those cold sesame noodles from your dad’s place.” Maren had more of a real smile for him. “And the smashed potato things? I have dreams about those.”
Me too. I couldn’t admit that, but I certainly understood the craving. And for Maren, I’d even chance another encounter with Magnus.
“Call the order in, and I can pick it up.”
“Already texted my dad.” Diesel held up his phone. “He’ll bring the food over. Maren and I want to talk to you both together anyway.”
Magnus and me in the same room? With some sort of big conversation on the line? That seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, but all I said was a very fake, “Great.”