Maybe this lunch wasn’t such a great idea after all.
I inhaled a deep breath, reminding myself I was an Eisenhower. I could do this. “I feel great. I’m nearing the end of my second trimester. The first trimester was awful. I was so tired and sick. But the second trimester has been much better so far. I feel great. It fills my mind with wonder to feel the boys move. Carrying twins isn’t so bad.”
Tabatha snorted. “I’ll remind you of that during the third trimester.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Tabatha, don’t scare your sister. It’s nothing she can’t handle.” Rita sat up straighter and seemed less wilted as she turned to me. “You’ll be just fine, Tiffany.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” I stared wide-eyed at my mother and then looked at my sister. “Seriously, I want to know what to expect.”
“Don’t you have a book?” Tabatha shrugged at Rita when she scowled at her.
“Yes, but I have a feeling it leaves out the details an expectant mother really wants to know. So, fess up, Tabby. What was it really like for you?”
“Sorry, Mom, Tiff asked for it. And honestly, I would have been better prepared had you told me what it was really like.”
“Every woman is different, and I just don’t believe in unnecessarily scaring a pregnant woman when she can’t reverse what’s going to happen.” She sat back and folded her hands as our food arrived, as if she were at a tea party and they hadn’t just terrified me.
It felt like forever until the waiter finally left. They both started eating, but suddenly, my appetite was gone. “Um, excuse me, sister,” I clutched her arm, “but talk and eat at the same time please. Because I can’t eat a bite until I know what I’m in for. And don’t sugarcoat it. I’m an Eisenhower, remember? I can take it.”
She sighed and put her hamburger down. “I only carried one baby, but I can tell you your cute little belly won’t be so cute anymore. You won’t be able to see your feet or tie your own shoes. You’ll have to pee constantly, and don’t be surprised if you wet your pants a time or two. Your back will ache from standing with a permanent arch. You’ll be starving, but you won’t have any room in your stomach, so you’ll want to eat all day long.”
I felt my skin pale as the blood drained away from my face.
“And don’t get me started on the heartburn. The kicks will feel like an MMA fight is happening and your uterus is the arena, with a foot or two getting stuck beneath your ribs. Then there are the stretchmarks on your breasts, belly, and thighs no matter how much fancy cream you rub on them. With twins, expect double the amount.”
Little stars danced before my eyes, and my head grew light and spacey.
“Then there are the Braxton Hicks contractions. You’ll think you’re in actual labor, but you’re not. It’s only the warmup and nothing like the main event. My labor lasted three days, and I was too late for pain meds…”
Her words faded as the darkness closed in, and the lights went out in Mayflower, leaving me with one final thought...maybe Eisenhowers weren’t as tough as I thought they were.
And then I had no thoughts at all.
Chapter Eighteen
“Ican’t believe I fainted.” I placed two adorable, light-up ceramic pumpkins in my shopping cart the next day.
“Chaz said stress can really take a toll on a person’s body, especially a pregnant woman, and you’re not just any pregnant woman. You’re having twins. Make sure you take it easy.” Zoe tossed a bunch of cobwebs in her basket.
Zoe had a Halloween party she was planning for the Wellingtons. They were friends of my grandmother, and their son was the man Grammy had wanted me to marry. Instead, I’d married her other friend’s son, Bud Grant. He’d been handsome and charming, while Nelson Wellington had been stuffy and boring.
Turns out Grammy knew best.
Stuffy and boring was loyal and still married.
“How cool is this?” Harm snagged a red-headed witch that looked surprisingly life-like to put by her front door. Her eyes were drawn to a man down the aisle headed our way. “Hey, there, Peter Sherman. Haven’t seen you in forever, my dude. How’s it hangin’, bro?” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows.
His eyes widened, and then he quickly turned around and walked the other way.
“See what I mean? I can’t even get Pewee Sherman to talk to me.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “A few months ago, he had been begging my mother to set us up on a date. I don’t get it.” She sniffed her shirt. “Do I smell?”
“You smell great with all the amazing products in your shop. But, um, is that the way you always talk to guys?” Morti wrinkled her nose.
Harm shrugged. “What’s wrong with the way I talk?”
“Nothing when you talk to us, hon,” Zoe pointed out gently, “but, well, you might want to try sounding less like your brothers when you talk to men.”
“And the eye wagging might be a bit too much, doll.” I patted her arm.
“Really?” Harm sighed. “I guess my desperation is starting to show. Thanks for keeping it real, babes. I need all the help I can get in the romance department.”
“You know we’re here for you.” Morticia graced Harmony with a rare smile, then her eyes lit up when she spotted a full skeleton and immediately put it in her cart.
“Great costume,” a man said as he walked by Morti.
“Oh, it’s not a costume.” She pointed at the heap of bones doubled over. “He’s a skeleton.”
“Huh?” the man said, just now noticing the skeleton in her cart, then scratched his head. “I meant your whole getup. The outfit and wig.”
“Well, that’s not a costume either. So, there’s that.” Morti shrugged. She’d left her long black hair down for once and was wearing her usual black attire but this time a dress since she had a funeral to help conduct later.
The man flushed a red the color of beets then grabbed his silent phone and held it to his ear. “What’s that? Of course. I’ll be right there.” He slid his phone back into his coat pocket. “Gotta go meet the wife at the butcher.” He left his half-full cart in the middle of the aisle and made a beeline for the door.
Morti shook her head and looked at Harm. “You think you’ve got problems. Try being me for a day.”
“You’re both gorgeous, intelligent, funny, amazing women. If any man can’t see that, then he’s not worthy of either of you. There’s someone out there for you both. I just know it.” I patted my growing tummy. “Meanwhile, I’m a mess. Tabatha was right. This morning, I couldn’t tie my own shoes. That set me off on a thirty-minute crying tangent. Then Matt slipped these fuzzy slippers with thick arch-supported soles on my feet.”
“I have to admit I never thought I’d see the day Tiffanie Eisenhower wore fuzzy slippers in public.” Zoe winked at me as she loaded her cart with several strings of spider lights with glowing orange eyes.
“They are the most comfortable shoes. It’s like walking on clouds.” I shook my head. “My whole world has changed. I used to care so much about how I looked. Now, it’s all about the comfort.”
“Amen to that.” Morti tossed a couple tombstones into her basket.
“So, how did it go with your sister and mother, Tiff?” Harm grabbed a broomstick and cauldron, adding them to her cart.
“Awkward,” I admitted. “Tabatha and I are progressing. We’ve met a couple times for lunch and even exchanged text messages a few times.” I lifted my hands, palms up. “It’s Rita. I know she’s trying, but it’s just weird. She really doesn’t act anything like how Grammy made her out to be. She seems genuine, and that confuses me.”
“Don’t stress, hon.” Zoe gave me a hug.
“I just feel so guilty because I actually like her.” I wiped away a tear. “I never heard Grammy say a single nice thing about Rita. I could tell she cared about her, but she was angry and hurt and about as stubborn as they came. I’m afraid she’s rolling over in her grave at me talking to my own mother. And I have to admit…I like having a sister. I know I have you ladies, and you know you’re my soul sisters, but to have an actual blood sister is special. I never believed in the twin thing, but there is something about her that draws me in.”
“It’s okay to do what you want to, Tiff.” Morti squeezed my hand. “Your grandmother would want you to be happy.”
“She’s right.” Zoe nodded.
“I don’t believe it!” Harm ran over to a bin.
