My Lucky Stars (17 page)

Caroline was the only one Jane could think of who needed help, that shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, as she tried to hang on to her marriage and make it through an extremely trying time. Jane’s prayers now included a plea that she might be prepared and know how to help, what to say and when to listen. Though she was concerned about her sister, Jane was grateful for the distraction from her own problems. Between worrying about Peter and anxiety over their unborn babies, she’d dissolve into a ball of nerves if she wasn’t careful.

“What are you going to do Thursday morning if you don’t have any help?” Jessica asked, pulling Jane from her thoughts.

“I
will
have help.” Jane gave Jessica a reassuring smile. “Trust me. Some things you just know.”

“Wish
I
knew it,” Jessica muttered.

“Hello, anyone home?” a high, falsely bright voice called through the gate.

Jessica jumped up to see who it was while Jane’s mind raced with memory. She hadn’t heard that voice in—

A blur of red—hair, sweater, leather pants and boots—stepped through the gate as Jessica pulled it open. Jane’s mouth dropped in astonishment then curved in a smile.

“Tara!” she exclaimed as she struggled to get up from the chaise.

Tara took a hesitant step then practically bounded across the yard. She stopped a foot in front of Jane and stared at her stomach.

“You’re
huge.
What has Peter done to you?”

Jane laughed and threw her arms open, engulfing Tara in an awkward hug. “I see you haven’t changed at all. You still tell it like it is.”

“And it
is
, Sister. Holy cow. You
look
like you swallowed a cow.”

“That’s not very nice,” Jessica said. Arms folded and a frown on her face, she stood beside them. “Aunt Jane, you shouldn’t be up. You need to lie down.”

“I didn’t swallow a cow,” Jane said, letting Jessica help her back to the chair. “Just a couple of pills that increased our odds of getting pregnant—and having
twins.
”

“Twins? You’re having more twins? But you’ve already got a set.” Tara took the chair Jessica had been sitting in.

“We have Maddie,” Jane said, the faintest trace of sadness in her voice. “Mark died. It wasn’t very long after Peter and I married.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tara said. Her smile faded, and her bubbly manner seemed to deflate. “I didn’t know. It must have happened after I left for LA.”

“Probably,” Jane said. She could tell Tara was uncomfortable with the sudden change in subject. “Let me introduce you to Maddie. Girls,” she called. “Come here for a minute.” She raised her hand, beckoning Maddie and Allison over.

Maddie poked her head out from the fort at the top of the play structure, waved at her mom, then slid down the slide and ran across the yard to join them.

“This is my daughter, Madison.” Jane pulled her close, kissing the top of her sweaty head. “Maddie, this is Mommy’s friend Tara.”

“Hello.” Madison walked up to Tara and held her hand out.

Tara shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“I like your red clothes,” Maddie said, her eyes roving up and down Tara.

“Thank you very much.”

“I have to go now.” Maddie pulled her hand away and spun around. “Allison won’t come down the slide unless I catch her.”

“You have
another
one?” Tara asked.

“Just borrowed. She’s my niece. And this is another niece, Jessica.” Jane motioned for Jessica to pull up another chair and join them. “She’s here visiting. Her family recently moved.”

“Oh?” Tara turned to Jessica. “Where to?”

“Arizona,” Jessica said stiffly. She shot Jane a look full of questions.

“Tara and I used to work together,” Jane said. “On our lunch hour, we’d share our dating woes over extremely fattening baked goods.”

“Ah . . . orange rolls,” Tara remembered. “Those were the days.”

Not really
, Jane thought, glad she’d moved on with her life.
But has Tara?
She glanced at her friend’s hand, noting the absence of a ring.

“How is California?” she asked.

“Smoggy and crowded,” Tara said.

“Oh.” It wasn’t the answer Jane had anticipated. Knowing Tara, she’d expected to be regaled with an hour’s worth of stories about ritzy events, fabulous parties, and the like. She felt the first inkling that something wasn’t quite right—that perhaps Tara’s dropping by was more than a social visit. But things with Tara had never been predictable. Her lifestyle choices made for a wild ride, and Jane wasn’t one to judge her for that. She’d always felt bad that she couldn’t help Tara figure out the things that would bring her true, lasting happiness.

“Has real estate taken a beating down there like it has here?” Jane asked.

“Worse,” Tara said. She pointed to the lemonade. “May I?”

Jane nodded, and Tara took a Zoo Pals paper cup off the tray and filled it with lemonade.

“So is your job okay?”
What if it’s Tara? What if she’s the one you’ve been thinking of who needs your help? No-o.
Jane pushed the ridiculous thought aside.

“It was fine,” Tara said. “But then corporate wanted me to fire a bunch of people on my team, and . . .” She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and met Jane’s eyes. “I refused to do it, so I quit.”

“Good for you,” Jane found herself saying.
Bad for me? What does this mean?
“So are you here visiting?”

“Nope.” Tara shook her head. “I’m here to stay. LA wasn’t the place for me, after all. I’m going to see about getting my old job back, and I’ll find an apartment. Hey, mind if I use your bathroom?” She jumped up, heading for the patio doors.

“Sure,” Jane said. “You remember where it is, I guess.”

When Tara had entered the house, Jessica leaned in close, whispering loudly, “Aunt Jane, she left a suitcase by your gate. I think she’s planning to stay.”

“Of course she is,” Jane said, her lips curving with a speculative smile as the puzzle pieces seemed to fall clearly into place. “A long time ago I told her my door was always open, and I meant it.”

“But you can’t play hostess right now. You have to rest.”

“I plan to,” Jane said.

“But she—she can’t take care of—”

“She’ll have to.” Jane felt the sudden need to laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Jessica asked warily.

“Nothing. Everything.” Jane shook her head and wiped the corner of her eye. “Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways, that’s all.”

Twenty-One

“Thanks for driving Jessica to the ferry,” Jane said, looking up from her spot on the couch between the two little girls snuggled beside her as they watched
Cinderella
.

“No problem,” Tara said as she walked past Jane and went into the kitchen. She placed three bags of groceries on the counter and returned to the car to get the rest, along with the takeout she’d ordered for dinner.
Thanks for doing the grocery shopping too. Buying dinner was so thoughtful of you. You’re the best, Tara.
In her head she tacked on a few extra words of praise that would have been nice to hear.

She loaded up both hands then closed the car door with her hip. Of course she was driving her own car too and using up her own gas, because Jane needed her car ready for her next doctor visit.

She’ll probably ask me to drive her there and fill up her Jeep while I’m waiting
, Tara thought with no little amount of irritation. She’d been there less than forty-eight hours, and in that time she’d barely had two seconds to herself.

Yesterday, before she had worked up the nerve to ask Jane if she could stay a few days, Jane had asked
her
if she’d be interested in staying the next eleven weeks while Peter was gone. Of course she’d jumped at the offer—it was even better than the week or two she’d hoped for . . . or so she’d thought.

So much for being the houseguest.
Tara set the bags on the step and opened the door.
What she needs is a nanny and a maid. She practically tricked me.
The old Jane never would have done something like that. Tara had always heard that pregnancy made women wacko, and that certainly seemed the case with Jane. She couldn’t even get up for a glass of water anymore, and she was always putting her hands on her stomach and talking to herself—or rather those
things
growing inside her.

It was unnerving.

“Did you get pizza?” Jane’s five-year-old and her two-year-old cousin were already sitting at the counter, rummaging through the bags she’d brought in.

“Fruit snacks?” Allison asked.

“Chinese,” Tara said. “It’s better for you.”

“Would you mind fixing the girls some plates?” Jane called from the other room.

“Sure,” Tara called back. She took two plastic, divided plates from the cupboard above the dishwasher.
Sure I mind. I would have liked my dinner hot.
She began pulling little boxes from the restaurant bag.

“Oooh. Those are cute. Can I have them when you’re done?” Maddie asked.

Tara shrugged. “If you want them.”

“Thank you.” Maddie beamed at her.

“You don’t have to thank me all the time.”

Maddie looked confused. “Please and thank you are the magic words.”

“Never mind,” Tara said. “Just eat your rice.” She plopped an egg roll on each plate next to the rice she’d already scooped out. After taking another plate from Jane’s cupboard, she began serving herself. When she turned back to the counter to get some silverware, she found both girls staring at her.

“What?”

“We haven’t prayed yet,” Maddie said. Allison held her folded arms up as evidence.

“Well, go ahead.” Tara waved her hand at them. “No one is stopping you.”

They continued to stare at her.

“It’s your turn,” Maddie whispered. “You haven’t said a prayer since you got here.”

Tara leaned over the table, close to the little girl’s face. “That’s because I
don’t
pray.”

Maddie gasped, jumped off her stool, and ran into the other room.

“Fine. Go tattle.” Tara stabbed her fork in the egg roll and took a bite while Allison looked on with big eyes. A minute later Maddie returned to the room.

She climbed up onto the stool, folded her arms, and said a prayer. When she was done, she looked at Tara as if the incident had never happened. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” Sometimes she wished Jane’s kid was more like Cadie instead of Miss Manners. It was difficult to be gruff with a five-year-old who was always thanking you.

“Mommy says thank you too,” Maddie added.

Jane.
Tara glanced at the open boxes on the counter then reluctantly set her own plate aside to fix one for Jane.
She’s got to eat too.
When she had it ready, she carried it into the living room where Jane was resting, eyes closed, hands folded over her bulging belly.

Uncertain whether to awaken her, Tara spoke softly. “Jane?”

She opened her eyes, sat up a little, and accepted the plate from Tara. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Tara could see she meant it, and she felt just a little guilt for her earlier grumbling. She couldn’t help but return Jane’s smile. “Me too.”

* * *

Tara walked into the living room and sank into the nearest chair. “They’re finally asleep.”
Little devils.
She ran a hand across her cheek, still trying to wipe away the excess slobber from Maddie’s good-night kiss. She’d brushed two sets of teeth, read three bedtime stories, brought in two drinks of water, checked for monsters under the bed, and helped wipe a bottom in the last hour since Jane had asked her to put the girls to bed. Who knew such a simple thing as getting a couple of kids in bed could be so . . . complicated and exhausting?

“Great. Now we can watch a movie. And how about making some popcorn?” Jane said, all enthusiastic.

She’s not tired. She’s been resting all day.
Tara glared at her, irritated Jane hadn’t even thanked her or noticed how drained she was. Grumbling under her breath, she hauled herself out of the chair and walked toward the entertainment center. “You certain you’re up to watching one of these?” Tara asked as she glanced through the shelves of Jane’s favorite romance DVDs. She wasn’t sure
she
could handle it tonight. For some reason, being back in Washington had increased her melancholy and restlessness instead of curing them, and she didn’t know why. But she could almost bet that watching an over-romanced chick flick was not going to remedy the problem.

“Why not?” Jane asked.

“For starters, your husband is seven thousand miles away. And aside from that, you won’t possibly be able to imagine yourself as the heroine looking like you do.”

“Thanks for reminding me how very fat I am right now,” Jane said. “I’d nearly forgotten. It’s been about three hours since you last mentioned it.”

Tara shrugged and said flippantly, “If your friends aren’t honest, who can you count on?”

“Good question,” Jane said. “Speaking of friends and honesty and all, why don’t we pretend it’s old times? Step into my cubicle and talk. We can watch a movie later.”

“All right.” Tara sauntered across the room, taking a chair opposite Jane’s couch. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Hmmm.” Jane brought a finger to her chin, pretending to consider. “How about what you’ve been up to the past five years since you literally disappeared off the map.”

“
I’m
not the one who vanished,” Tara protested. “You’re the one who quit your job then went and got married and started having all these kids.”

“
All
these kids?” Jane laughed, reminding Tara that her once-single and once-fun friend was still in there somewhere. “Maddie is five and still waiting for a sibling. In my family that’s practically cause to be disowned. If I was like my mother or sisters, I’d already have three children with another on the way.”

“Looks like you’re making up for lost time,” Tara said, staring at Jane’s stomach. “There could be three in there.”