"Too damn bad." She slammed her door shut and stalked up the path. No freaking way would she let herself be walked on any longer.
Her sisters were sprawled across the living room and kitchen. The rooms were a mess once again. Claire strode to the center of the living room as the front door slammed.
Lauren bolted past her, shoving into the kitchen. She dropped her bag onto the floor, seething. "Someone better drive me to the gym."
Krissy raised her gaze from her phone. "I thought Claire was doing it."
"I'm not doing it." Rolling her eyes, Claire turned to address all of her sisters. "She shouldn't have called me and you shouldn't have let her. You're all sitting around here. There's no reason one of you can't drive her."
Amanda and Jen opened their mouths, but Claire cut them off with a wave of her hand. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but before I moved out we all had a talk about how you guys would have to work together to handle chores and schedules and driving Lauren around. In the three months that I've been gone, you've called me a ton of times asking for my help with things that I later learned you all could have and should have handled. I don't expect you to track chores and schedules the way I did, but you have to do better than this."
Stony silence settled over the rooms. Five glares met her. Then Amanda stood. "We don't need you lecturing us. You're not our mother."
She stiffened. Justified heat bloomed from her chest and raced to the ends of every limb. Amanda was right. She wasn't their mother and trying to fill that hole stopped right now. "I've always tried to make up for Mom not being here, but you're right, I'm not her. You guys want to live in chaos, fighting, casting blame and shirking responsibilities, so go ahead. But from now on, don't call me unless one of you is bleeding, and even then, only if you can't get a hold of each other or Dad."
She let herself out of the house, blinking away tears as she hurried to her car.
Halfway to the ballpark, her stomach heaved once, twice, again. Oh, no. Claire jerked the car into a shopping center parking lot and thrust her door open just in time to avoid creating a mess in her car.
Wiping her hand across her mouth, she sagged against the seat. She'd better do some research on handling morning sickness.
Her phone pinged with a text alert. She lifted it slowly, steeling herself for a message from one of her sisters. Liam's name, instead, made her smile.
Liam: Hope you're feeling better today. If you're not, just call. We can film the video later this week. See you soon.
He thought she had a stomach bug. In all the drama with her sisters, she hadn't thought past the shock of the pregnancy to the fact that it affected him too.
She hadn't a clue how to tell him the news when she could barely believe it herself.
CLAIRE WANDERED THROUGH the crowd of All-Star fans at the ballpark. Hot dogs, nachos, and fried foods scented the air and kept her in a permanent state of nausea. In the week since she'd learned of the pregnancy, working every night at the park, being bombarded by those scents, had taken its toll. Throwing up three to five times a day wasn't any fun and the home remedies for morning sickness weren't working. She needed to call her doctor.
She ducked through the door leading to the quiet inner hallways and breathed in deep to expel the offending odors from her nose and lungs.
Raymond had asked her to stop by his office after she'd completed her hour of posing for pictures with the fans. Perhaps he'd realized that she'd scaled back her on-field routine this week. She hadn't had a choice. Cartwheels and flips were difficult when her body was exhausted and drained and queasy all the time. She needed to get her nausea under control, otherwise she might not be able to perform the stunts at all.
But she couldn't share the real reason with him. Not when Liam didn't know yet.
Between his upset over the setback of the sprained ankle, the preparations for the All-Star game, and their increased appearances for the influx of press, media, and fans, she hadn't found the right time to tell him. She couldn't exactly blurt out "hey, we're having a baby" the same way she'd tell him that they needed to head to the field.
She stopped in her office, striped off her costume, and left a message for her doctor. On her way to Ray's office, she sipped a can of ginger ale Liam had found at a specialty store. He thought she still had a stomach bug.
They needed to talk. After tonight's game, they had two days off. She'd find a way to tell him tomorrow.
She stopped in front of Ray's open door and he waved her in. "Claire, have a seat. If you don't mind, please close the door behind you."
If Ray mentioned her lackluster performances, she'd blame the stomach bug. The scent of his cologne wasn't doing anything to help her nausea. Hopefully, the meeting would be quick.
He offered her a warm smile. "We're very pleased with your performance so far, and the fans love you."
Oh, good. Her tightened stomach eased. "Thanks, Ray. I'm really enjoying being here."
"You were hired as a temporary employee but we'd like to make you a permanent part of the talent roster. And raise your salary to be more commensurate with your popularity and level of success."
"Wow. That's great. Thank you." Tears threatened to form and she bit the inside of her cheek until the urge passed. Crazy hormones. If her doctor was right about her due date, she'd deliver in mid-February. She might have to miss part of Spring Training, but she'd work it out then.
"That brings me
