“Bethie?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She sucked in a shuddering breath and a half sob. “I just need to cry for a minute.”
Carefully, I stood. Shane stirred as I put him into the crib, and then I turned to Bethany in concern. I held out my arms. “Can you cry with me?”
She peered at me through her fingers like a lost child, then reached for me. I pulled her into my arms and held her.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I had a baby,” she cried. Tears filled her eyes. “And these hormones are crazy. I feel like a psycho person that swings from one emotion to the next. I drink water all day long and it never feels like enough because I’m so freaking thirsty from breastfeeding, and Maverick is driving me bonkers. I’m so tired. He’s tired. We’re all tired from Shane being sick and work and being stressed. I just want my baby to be okay, and I want to be done breastfeeding.”
She gripped my shirt in her fists. For half a second, I expected her to let out a scream. Then she did, right into my shoulder. It was a guttural thing, a cross between a shrill sob and a bellow of rage. A giggle peeped out of me—I couldn’t help it. I pressed my lips together in a poor attempt to hide it, but more giggles escaped me. When she pulled away in shock, she just looked so ridiculous and exhausted and perfect.
Bethie stared at me, eyes swimming, until a half laugh, half sob burst from her. Then she really laughed. Within seconds, both of us were belly laughing as we sank to the floor. The entire moment was so ridiculous it only made me laugh harder.
Minutes later, I sat on the floor, my sides pinching.
Bethany wiped her cheeks off with the back of her hand. “Thanks.” She sniffled. “I think I needed that more than anything.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just . . . this is hard. And Maverick is trying to make it better, but he’s just . . . just . . .”
“Protective?”
“Overbearing.”
“Think he’s scared?”
She blinked. “Why would you think that?”
I shrugged. “Just wondering. He looks overwhelmed all the time now. Like he’s been staring too long at the sun and can’t blink the aura away.”
She giggled again. “Me, too, probably.”
“I would describe you as more closely aligned with mama-zombie.”
A rueful sigh escaped her. “Definitely. I’m sorry. I just needed to escape for a moment and get away from Mav. Does that make me an awful wife?”
“No. I think that makes you a real one.”
Six months of intense pregnancy nausea hadn’t done her any favors. She looked downright haggard now, and I wanted to fix it all for her. Was this what Leslie, Grace, and Stella were saying at book club? Maverick and Bethany always seemed to have the perfect romance, but it wasn’t actually perfect. This was real-life romance at work. Bethie and Mav would pull back together—they always did.
So why wouldn’t JJ and I also figure it out? came the thought. I pushed it away for now, but it hovered in the back of my mind.
When she wiped off her cheeks again, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. She sagged into me for a moment, all limp and sisterly against me, until she pulled away and pressed a kiss against my cheek.
“Thank you. You’re just what I needed.” She scrutinized me. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I said a little too quickly again.
“Liar.”
“Not now,” I whispered. “Neither of us are ready for this conversation now.”
“Yes, now. Why did you refuse JJ?”
My eyes widened.
She gave me a please look. “Of course I know,” she said before I could ask. “Ellie tells me everything. I’ve worked for years to get her to trust me, and now it’s rock solid. She’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.”
“I didn’t tell you because Shane—”
She cut me off by putting a hand on my arm. “It’s okay, but it’s time to tell me now.”
Bethany had been my rock for the last five years. Not telling her about Mama and JJ and my broken heart had been eating away at me. While I was glad I could be home to help, in some ways I couldn’t get away fast enough.
Home wasn’t the same, because it wasn’t Adventura. My homesickness for that stupidly perfect office—and JJ’s smell—shook me.
“I’m afraid I’m turning into Mama,” I whispered.
She reared back. “What?”
With a weary sigh, I said, “It’s a long story, but I don’t want to do to JJ what Mama did to Dad. I—”
The door creaked open, and a familiar woman with spiraling black hair and a warm expression peered inside. A white mask covered her face. Bethany lit up.
“Jada,” she whispered. “You’re here.”
Bethany stood and embraced our town doctor. Jada moved to me next, warmth in her chocolate-brown eyes. The yellow gown that she wore over her clothes crinkled when I returned her hug.
“Lizbeth. So good to see you,” Jada said.
“You as well.”
Jada motioned to Shane with a tilt of her head. “Just here to listen and write some orders for the nurses. X-ray is concerning but not terrible. With oxygen and supportive care and time, we’ll get him out of here just fine. Okay?”
Bethany nodded with a teary smile. Her hand clamped down on mine. “Thanks, Jada.”
“I’ll let you talk with her,” I said to Bethany. “I’ll be back in the morning. Let me know if I can bring anything back.”
I gathered my things, murmured a quiet goodbye, and gave Shane a quick kiss. Visiting hours would end in fifteen minutes, and Bethany looked exhausted.
“You going to be okay?” I whispered to Bethany. Despite the years behind us, I still had a burning need for her to always be okay. For her to be safe, solid, and ready to bear everything, even if that wasn’t fair of me to ask of her.
“Of course. I’ll talk to Maverick when he gets back in here, I promise.
