Page 41 of Tiny Precious Secrets (The Brothers of Calloway Creek The Montanas #4)

Allie

Asher is out of town again, for the entire week no less, and Bug is either depressed about it or is rethinking her decision to attend school rather than do it online. She’s left the confines of her room even less than normal these past few days, not even to hang out with Christian.

Browsing through Truman’s Grocery, I’m wondering what food I can get to lure Darla to the dinner table.

Ever since the urn incident, she seems to have a bit of a softer side when it comes to the babies, but that doesn’t necessarily extend over to me.

When Asher is around, she’s cordial at best, but when he’s not, she keeps her distance.

We live in the same house, but the two of us might as well be worlds apart.

“Allie!”

I turn away from the rotisserie chickens to see Ava Criss pushing her cart over. Instinctively, I try to camouflage my belly the best I can, but at twenty-four weeks, it’s pretty much a losing battle.

Her eyes never stray from my baby bump as she approaches. “Wow, I haven’t seen you in a while. You look great.”

Don’t touch your stomach, Allie, I repeat over and over in my bead. Don’t touch your stomach.

It’s a habit all pregnant women have. And it’s really, really hard not to do it, especially since one of the babies is jabbing me in the ribs right now.

“Thanks. So do you. I love your new highlights.”

“I’m trying different things out. Trevor’s coming home early next year. I’ve started working out and eating right.”

“It shows. You look fantastic.”

She moves a few things around in the top of her cart.

“It’s going to be strange having him home all the time.

For seven years, we’ve never had more than a few weeks together.

And that doesn’t even count when he was away at college.

It’s exciting and scary at the same time. What if he’s changed? What if I have?”

I step closer and put a hand on her forearm. “Ava, you and Trev have been together since you were, what, thirteen? You guys are perfect for each other. Sure, life experience may have changed how you perceive the world, but not who you are inside.”

She nods. “You’re right. I’m being silly.” She eyes my stomach again. “And with any luck, by this time next year, I might look like you do now.”

“Hopefully you won’t be quite this big.” Now I touch my belly. “Carrying two is no picnic.”

“You make it look easy. And I’d carry an entire litter if it meant getting to be a mom.”

I laugh. Then wince when one of the babies stomps on my bladder.

Her eyes go wide. “Are they moving?”

“I think the boy is dancing on my bladder.”

“Can I?... Would you mind?”

Ava and I aren’t the closest of friends, more like we’re in each other’s outer circles.

She and her friend group are older than me and my friend group.

But we’re tied together by a lot of people.

And her best friend is married to my brother.

Which is why she was there when I told everyone about Christopher.

I grab her hand and put it where the baby is moving.

Tears flood her eyes. “I’ll never get over this. I think it’s the thing I crave the most, feeling life inside me.”

“With Trevor being home full-time soon, I’m sure it will happen.”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger, and it can’t happen soon enough. It amazes me how easily some people get pregnant.”

“I’m sorry. You must hate me.”

“God, no. I envy you. But Allie, I’m happy for you. Believe me when I say that. Especially after what you’ve gone through.” Her jaw goes slack. “Oh my gosh, I really felt that one.”

“I think the girl is doing flips and the boy isn’t happy about it.”

“You know which one is which?”

I nod and move her hand lower. “She’s more down there. He’s on top. They’ve pretty much been like that the whole time.”

She scoffs. “Typical guy, wanting to be king of the hill.”

I laugh.

Reluctantly, like maybe she could stand here and do this all day long, her hands fall away. “Well, I’d better get going before the milk spoils.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Ava.”

“You too.”

After she leaves, I run into at least four more shoppers, and every one touches my stomach like it’s public property.

This is why I left town the first time. But now, even if I don’t know the person well, I try not to let it bother me.

Because this time is different. I’m savoring every kick.

Enjoying every curious touch. Thanking every well-wisher.

But mostly… I’m loving how it feels to be able to dream about a future I never thought possible.

~ ~ ~

“Dinner!” I call up the stairs.

“Not hungry!”

Disappointed she won’t even come down for her favorite meal, I eat in solitude then make her a plate anyway, write her name on the tin foil, and put it front and center in the fridge hoping she’ll change her mind.

I’m just about done with the dishes when the doorbell rings.

Our front door has three small square windows just above eye level, so I rise on my toes and peer through to see Christian on the stoop. I open the door.

“Hi, Miss Allie.”

“Hello, Christian.”

“Is, um, Bug here?”

“She is. Would you like to come in and I’ll get her?”

I hold the door open and he comes through.

“Have you eaten? I made lasagna, and with Asher away, there’s a lot.”

“No thanks. We had burgers.”

I point to the couch. “You can wait there okay?”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

I chuckle. “Not ma’am. Just Allie. I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

Deciding not to yell in front of a guest, I trudge to the top of the stairs, completely out of breath from the short climb when I knock.

“I said I’m not hungry!”

“Darla, you have a visitor. Christian is here.”

“Tell him I’m sick,” she answers in a muffled voice, then I hear footsteps and the slamming of her bathroom door.

I carefully navigate down the stairs and find Christian sitting at the kitchen bar staring at the cookies I made earlier. I pick up the plate and offer him one.

“I’m sorry. Darla isn’t feeling well.”

He takes a cookie and picks at it. “She’s been saying that all week. She hasn’t shown up for practice since Monday.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “She hasn’t?” I pour a glass of milk, and push it across the bar to him, sparing a glance to her stairway.

I don’t exactly keep tabs on her. I do work almost every day, and I take a lot of naps.

And she is thirteen—a confusing age if I recall.

But I had no idea she’d quit playing soccer. Maybe she really is sick.

“No. I just hope she hasn’t changed her mind about tryouts. They’re next week.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. The flu maybe.” But in my mind, I’m running through everything it could be.

When I’ve seen her, which hasn’t been often, she hasn’t looked physically ill.

But now that I think of it, something is most definitely off.

I’ve been attributing it to anxiety over all the upcoming events in her life.

Or depression over being stuck with me for the week.

But could there be more to it? I sigh. I’m totally failing at this stepmom thing—or whatever it may be.

Christian finishes his cookie, drains his glass, then stands. “Thank you for the snack, Miss Allie.”

“My pleasure. I’m sure Bug will feel better soon.” I follow him to the front door. “Christian?”

He looks back at me with a questioning stare.

“Is she any good at soccer? She never wants us to go to practices, and she’s pretty much forbidden us from attending tryouts.”

“Honestly? She’s not great, but she doesn’t totally suck either.

I’d say there’s a good chance she’ll make the team, because there are a lot more girls who suck way worse than her.

” His face reddens. “I didn’t mean… I probably shouldn’t have said suck, because she doesn’t, and those other girls don’t really either…

I just meant…” He shakes his head, clearly flustered.

“I think I’ll just go now if that’s okay. ”

I hold in my laughter. “Yes. It’s okay. And yes, I know what you meant. Bye, Christian.”

As soon as he leaves, I’m slogging back up the stairs again. Dang, it’s getting harder to do this.

I knock on her door. There’s no answer.

“Darla? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“I didn’t say I am sick, I said tell him I’m sick.”

I lean against the door. “Did something happen between you and Christian?”

“No.”

“If something did, you can tell me.”

“Nothing happened!”

“Then why have you been hiding up here for days?”

“I like my private space.”

“But you’ve missed going to soccer practice.”

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Christian was worried. He asked why you haven’t been showing up.”

She doesn’t answer, she just turns on music.

I pound on her door. “Darla, can we please talk about this like adults?”

The volume increases even more.

I pound harder then press my palms against the door and raise my voice. “I’m worried about you. Is it tryouts? School? Have you changed your mind? Sweetie, you should talk to someone about it.”

Stomping feet cross the floor. “Do not call me sweetie!”

The door flies open unexpectedly, and with all my weight against it, I fall into the room.

At the last second, just before I hit the floor, I stretch out my arms hoping to break my fall.

But my stomach protrudes too much and it hits first, maybe not as hard as if I hadn’t used my hands, but hard enough.

I immediately roll to the side and cradle my belly.

Darla looks down at me in horror. “Oh my god. I didn’t know you were against the door. Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”

Still stunned, I crawl over and lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

I put a hand over my stomach where each twin should be and pray to feel something…

anything. I press down. When I feel movement from up top, I breathe a small sigh of relief.

But I don’t feel anything below, despite poking her a few times.

“No. No ambulance. But can you get my phone? I think it’s in the kitchen.”

Looking as guilty as sin, she rushes down. When she’s back and handing it to me, she says, “You’re calling my dad, aren’t you?” She sinks to the floor a few feet away. “I’m going to get into so much trouble for this.”

“I’m not calling your dad.”

I dial Hudson’s number. He answers on the third ring. “Everything okay, Allie?”

“I’m sorry to bother you after hours, but I just fell down.”

“How did you fall, and did you hit your stomach?”

I tell him what happened, leaving out the part about Darla ripping open the door.

“Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Have you felt any movement?”

“Yes.” I lower my voice, not wanting Bug to feel worse than she clearly does. “But only from one. Hudson, I’m totally freaked out here. What if—” I can’t even get myself to say it. “Should I go to the hospital?”

“Do you think you can drive?”

“Yeah. I think so. I mean I feel fine physically.”

“Meet me at my office. I’ll do an ultrasound.”

I’m relieved he’s not dismissing me as just being a nervous mom-to-be. Because in all honesty, I did downplay how hard I hit the floor in an attempt to not freak out Darla.

“Thanks, Hudson. I’ll leave right now.” I hang up and tell Bug where I’m going.

She stares at my belly. “Do you think…”

“I don’t think anything. I just want to be sure. Will you be okay here?”

She nods, guilt eating away at her features.

“Hopefully I won’t be gone too long. There’s lasagna in the fridge if you get hungry, and I made cookies.”

I’m trying to make it seem like everything is okay, like I’m not screaming on the inside over all the things that could be wrong. What if one of the placentas has a tear? What if I fell right on one of their heads? What if I’m going to go into early labor?

But I hold off on showing any emotion in front of Darla, making it all the way to my car before breaking down in sobs. The last three months have been pure bliss. Is the other shoe about to drop?

I let myself cry for just a brief minute. Then I check my pants again for any bleeding. There isn’t any, thank goodness, and I finally back out of the garage, saying a little prayer.

Actually, it’s a huge prayer.

It’s all the prayers.