“In two weeks.”
“How many weeks along are you?”
“About eight.”
“Good. Do you want me to come with you to the scan?”
Rose was a busy, busy woman, and for her to offer was a very big deal. Iris waved a hand in front of her face once more. “No,” she replied. “Geoff is coming with me. But thank you so much for offering.”
“You call me the minute it’s over and tell me everything. I can’t take you on since we’re sisters, but I can refer you to an excellent OB/GYN if you want me to.”
Iris shook her head. “I’ve been going to Dr. Bailey forever. I trust her.”
Rose nodded. “The offer stands if you want a second opinion or anything.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
“Does Mom know?” she asked in a puzzled tone as all three of them knew that if their mother knew about the pregnancy she’d never have acted so relatively cool and normal last night.
Iris shook her head. “I’m not ready to tell her yet. It will all seem too real, and if anything happened…”
“You’re young and healthy. Statistics are on your side. Plus, who would you want to support you if anything did go wrong but Mom?” Which was exactly what Marguerite had said.
“I know you’re right. I can’t explain it. I just have to work through this fear, I guess.”
“Well, if you need to talk, you can always reach me. And congratulations again. This is happy news!”
Knowing that Iris was close to tears again, Marguerite said, “Does anyone else have any happy news to share?” And raised her eyebrows significantly in Rose’s direction.
She threw her arms in the air, much the way Iris had done earlier, so water rivulets danced off her toned arms. “What can I say? He got to me. Matt and I are getting married!”
Iris’s squeal was every bit as heartfelt as Rose’s had been earlier. She jumped up so fast she caused waves to ripple around them as she threw her arms around her sister. “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it. Another sister getting married.”
“This is quite a day. A first kiss, an engagement, and a baby. Ladies, I think we need to get the pregnant lady out of this hot water and go treat ourselves to some manicures and pedicures.” She waved her ring hand in the air. “Personally, I’ve got a very large rock to show off. I wouldn’t want my fingernails to let me down.”
So the three of them donned the plush white robes provided by the spa and padded to the beauty treatment area. When Marguerite’s aesthetician began her manicure, the woman frowned over her hands. “Are you a rock climber?”
“No.”
The woman grabbed a pumice stone and started scrubbing. “I’ve only ever seen hands like this on a rock climber before.”
She resisted the urge to sit on her hands, since she was here in order to have them improved. She sighed, unable to repress the memory of Alexei running his palm over her much rougher one. She said, “I grow vegetables for a living.” Thinking rock climbing sounded a lot more glamorous.
The aesthetician shook her head sadly. “Honey, you need to think about gardening gloves.”
