* * *
“Okay, spill.”Chrissy leaned forward expectantly. Well, as forward as the belly bump allowed, anyway. She’d practically kidnapped Emma Sunday afternoon so they could go by a few stores in downtown Clearwater for some last-minute baby items. They’d barely gotten to Main Street when Chrissy suggested they stop and get something to drink.
Now they were sitting at a table, an umbrella blocking the sun, with glasses of iced tea in front of them. Emma doubted they’d even make it into an actual store.
She chuckled. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Mom’s date. Your Saturday with Marty. Feel free to choose which one you’d like to start with.” Chrissy looked at her pointedly and took a sip of her tea.
“I should’ve known going baby shopping was a ruse.” Emma looked around at the sky above them until Chrissy shot her a confused look. “I’m waiting for the interrogation spotlights.”
It was Chrissy’s turn to laugh. “I’d reach over and smack you except I’m doing everything at a sloth’s pace right now.” She rubbed her belly and even Emma could see it ripple where the baby moved.
“I think you might have dropped some over the weekend.”
Chrissy nodded. “That’s what several ladies at church said, too.”
Emma took a long, drawn-out drink of tea simply to torture her big sister then started telling her about Dale, or at least her initial impressions of him. They agreed to push Mom into inviting him to dinner sometime so Chrissy and Wyatt could meet him. Preferably before the baby made his appearance.
“Maybe next weekend,” Chrissy suggested.
Emma agreed and promised to mention it to Mom.
“And how did Saturday go? Did you and Marty manage to ride in the same vehicle without killing each other?”
“You are so dramatic. Seriously.” Emma fiddled with her glass. “It was a fun day. Caleb got second place in the competition, Marty and I had an argument, we ate Chick-Fil-A at a park for lunch, and then texted about NCIS last night.”
Chrissy’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s all pretty random. But texting last night, that has to be a good sign, right?”
“A sign that we might be real friends instead of pretend friends to keep from arguing at work.”
“You like him.”
Emma shrugged. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter, does it? He’s an only child, Chris. He’s told me he wishes he’d had siblings growing up. Once he knows I can’t have kids, he’ll bolt so fast our heads will spin.”
“So you haven’t told him.” Chrissy gave her a disapproving look. “I don’t think it’s fair to assume he’ll react a certain way without giving him the opportunity to prove the opposite.”
“Maybe. But like I said, we’re friends. I don’t think it’s appropriate to show up for work, ask him how his weekend went, and then say, ‘Oh, if it matters, I can’t have kids. You know, in case you were wondering.’ Seriously, Chrissy, how am I supposed to do that?”
Chrissy chewed on the inside of her cheek and finally tilted her head to the side in agreement. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. But I still think he deserves the chance to prove you wrong. And you deserve a chance at happiness. Can you see yourself being happy with Marty?”
Emma had made a point to not imagine a future with Marty in it. “We’d argue all the time, Chrissy.”
“That means those make-up sessions would be even sweeter.”
Just thinking about it had Emma’s cheeks burning. She kicked her sister under the table. “Wow, you’re on a roll today, aren’t you? Any other advice you’d like to dish out before we end this particular conversation and go baby shopping?”
Chrissy’s expression went from teasing to more serious. “I wish you saw yourself the way everyone else did. If that were true, you wouldn’t be second-guessing why Marty keeps finding ways to spend time with you. I’m praying for you, little sister.”
Those words caused Emma’s heart to ache. She was thankful for her sister’s support and love. But prayer? Emma wasn’t sure it even made a difference anymore. She tried to give a convincing smile. “Thanks.”
They finished their tea and went in search of one of Chrissy’s favorite stores. Emma enjoyed her sister’s company but couldn’t shake the heavy, unsettled feeling in her chest.
If only she could know for sure whether God even heard her prayers. Or was she truly as invisible to Him as she felt?
One thing was certain, though. As much as Emma hated to admit it, Chrissy was right. She cared about Marty, and it’d be easy to picture a future together. But that meant, at some point, Emma was going to have to tell Marty about her inability to have kids. The possibility that he could then withdraw from her life had her heart aching.
Why did her common sense and her heart have to be at such odds right now?
