I feel a lump forming in my throat, and I hate myself for it when my best friend is staring at her most precious possession—something her mother gave her—that I have just crashed. I was supposed to be distracting her. I’m so fucking dumb. Beau turns her eyes onto me, and my lip wobbles, my mouth loading with a million apologies to pour. She jerks a little, as if snapping out of a daydream. “I’m so s—”
“Jesus, Rose, are you okay?” Beau dashes over to me and places both hands on my little bump, and I withdraw, taken aback.
“I’m fine,” I say. I hardly moved in my seat, felt no pressure on my tummy. “But Dolly isn’t.”
“Dolly’s fine. Are you sure you’re okay? The baby, does she feel okay?”
I still in front of her, my mouth falling open.
“Can you feel her moving?”
“It’s too early to feel movement,” I say quietly.
“It is?” Beau rubs circles on my tummy, as if trying to stimulate movement. And in answer, a mild flutter of bubbles pop as if telling me she’s okay. As if she knows my friend needs that reassurance.
“Oh my God, I felt her. She’s moving,” I say, laying my hand over Beau’s. She inhales, eyes full of wonder staring at me. She doesn’t even realize what she’s said in her panic. “She is fine.”
“Thank God,” Beau breathes smiling mildly. Then it drops, as do her hands from my stomach, and she steps back. “Oh shit.” Her hand slaps over her mouth, and I laugh. It’s too late for that.
“I’m having a girl?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Nope, nay, noh, nein.”
“I’m having a girl!”
“God damn it!”
“I’m having a girl,” I say, bracing my hands on my knees to hold me up, starting to laugh hysterically. “My God, he’s going to have a fucking fit.” Another girl to worry about? He’ll be sectioned.
“You can’t tell him I told you,” Beau says, as I lower myself to the ground, feeling weak, and very worried I could pee my panties at any moment. “Rose, for Christ’s sake, will you promise me you won’t tell him?”
“I promise.” I chuckle, on my back, looking up at the clouds.
“I’m so stupid,” Beau moans, joining me on the ground, lying next to me and taking my hand. I turn my face to hers, wiping my eyes, my body still sporadically jolting with the aftermath of my laughing fit. And Beau smiles. It’s a true smile, the kind of smile that lights her face and dampens the darkness that shrouds her life. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers, her voice ragged.
I exhale and settle. She wouldn’t know what to do without James either, but that goes without saying. And I guess girls need girls sometimes when men just do not know what to do. “They’ll fix this,” I say.
“I know they will. I just wish more stuff for them to fix would stop turning up. And I wish more that I could maintain a consistent, calm, accepting aura.”
I smile, wishing the same for myself too. But we should cut ourselves some slack. “You’re allowed to wobble, Beau. So am I.”
“You’re pregnant, you have a valid excuse for your unreasonable behavior.”
I can’t even challenge her. I know I’m unreasonable. Danny knows it. Everyone knows it. God, I hope she will be pregnant one day too. A glimmer of light to grow and chase away the demons forever. James needs that too. “It’s not unreasonable, really. Not when you consider who we’re married to.”
She swallows and nods, looking up at the sky. “He thinks I hate him,” she whispers. “I don’t. I love him more fiercely than I’ve ever hated anyone. Even the man who ordered my mother’s death.”
“I know you do.” I squeeze her hand. “Maybe he needs to hear that.”
She nods. “My period was due yesterday. It didn’t come.”
I inhale subtly. “Do you think . . .”
“I don’t know. But James definitely needs to hear that I love him.” Looking at me, she flashes a small, unsure smile. “Where are they?”
“At Hiatus. I’ll call and check.”
“Okay.” Jumping up, she looks down her body. “I’m going to wear a dress.”
I accept her hands when she offers them, and she pulls me to my feet. Beau in a dress is as rare as James smiling. “Have you ever worn a dress?” I ask, as we walk back to the house. “Except for my bachelorette party?” Which was an epic fail. I shudder, remembering Danny smashing an admiring man’s face into the table just before he ordered me down off the stage in Hiatus in the calmest, deadliest voice. “Oh, and at dinner in St. Lucia. My cream dress.”
“Yeah, one time when James took me to the opera to assassinate a judge.” She says it so casually, so coolly, and I look at her, not surprised. I’ve heard the story before, and even if I hadn’t? Well, our world. “James had a dress delivered to Lawrence and Dexter’s,” she goes on, smiling, although it’s sad. I’ve not heard this part. “Before we knew it was Dexter who killed my mother under order.” I squeeze her hand, and she laughs lightly. “The thought of going to the opera filled me with dread, but at the same time I really wanted to.” She shrugs. “It was when I was particularly bad at being in crowded places.” Beau isn’t all too great now, but I know of the panic attacks that ruled her back then. “I went to Walmart on a Saturday afternoon to try and prepare.”
“Why would anyone go to Walmart on a Saturday?”
“Exactly.” She laughs. “Anyway, it didn’t work out too well and I was on the cusp of falling apart when guess who shows up?” She looks at me, and I smile. I don’t need to answer that. He’d been following her for some time, trying to find the man we all know as The Bear, the man who ordered the deaths of both James’s family and Beau’s mother. James knew he would go after Beau too if she didn’t give up her relentless need to prove her mother’s death wasn’t an accident. James just didn’t expect to fall in love with her. And I must admit, neither did I expect to fall for her. To be honest, when James dragged Danny from the dead, I hated Beau before I had met her. Then the four of us had dinner and after a spikey start, I was soon head over heels.
And here we are.
A pair of molls.
“He helped me do my shopping and picked me up later. He wore a black suit,” she says over a sigh. “And he looked so fucking handsome.”
“And the dress he bought you?” I ask.
“He said I looked out of this world.”
Truth is, Beau looks out of this world in ripped jeans and a tank. She’s naturally stunning—casual or glam. “We’ve never gotten ready together,” I point out. “Like girls do.”
“We should do it. Get ready together.” She turns a smile onto me, and I love the sparkle I see in her eyes. “I’ll take a shower and head over to your place.” She releases me and jogs off, and I laugh. My place is down the corridor from her place.
I head to the kitchen to get some water and make the first of a few calls to Esther. “Before you ask, he’s not here,” she says when she answers. “He and Barney have become quite pally. He’s back and forth between here and there like a yo-yo.”