Nice Girls Don't Live Forever (29 page)

“I’m not, I just, I didn’t know I could have that effect on you,” she admitted. “You seem … unflappable sometimes.”

“It’s all a clever ruse,” I said, blowing my bangs out of my face. “I’m extremely flapped most of the time.”

Jenny wiped at her eyes, but I think that had more to do with her impromptu facial than emotion. “You’re going to outlive my boys, Jane. And their children, and their children. Don’t you think I’ve thought of that? When my grandchildren are lying in the nursing home, you’re going to be the one packing up everything they own and deciding who gets what. You’re the sole survivor, no matter what any of us does. You’re going to outlast us all. I think that’s why I went so crazy about all those family heirlooms. I figured, it’s going to come to you in the end anyway, so why don’t you let us just borrow it for a little while? And when you said no, I don’t know what came over me …”

“To be honest, the stuff doesn’t matter that much to me, Jenny. I just like to screw with you, and this seems like the only way to get you. I’m sorry I’ve been a little petty about the heirlooms. I just wish you would have told me things like this before, you know, I died,” I offered.

More awkward silence.

“What do we do now?” I asked, hesitantly sitting next to her.

“I don’t know,” she said, sinking back into the mud, clearly exhausted by her emotional unburdening.

“You could stop being such a hag at every single family gathering,” I suggested.

She lifted her head to glare at me.

“Too soon?” I asked. She nodded.

“Well, we could stop sniping at each other and focus our anger where it belongs,” I said.

“Mama?” Jenny asked. I nodded.

“It won’t be like this forever,” Jenny promised, placing a tentative hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I sniffled. “Someday Grandma Ruthie will be locked safely away in a home for the elderly/criminally insane.”

“Jane!”

I brightened. “Can I pick the home?”

“Jane!”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“This has been good,” Jenny said, laughing. “I feel … lighter somehow.”

“It’s amazing what a little foam battering can do,” I said, nodding.

“Well, it’s a good thing we stopped where we did, ’cause I was this close to kicking your ass.”

I nodded to the mutilated grass behind us. “We can always jump back into the mud pit and settle things once and for all.”

“This is one of those things where I’m just going to assume you’re joking.”

I sniffed, wincing at the sting in my lip as it healed. “Probably for the best.”

Jenny watched as my skin closed and the bruising faded away. “That is really cool.”

“Just one of the perks,” I said, grinning as I pulled her to her feet.

Head Courtney came running over to the foam and mud wreckage. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Just settling some family issues.” Jenny chuckled, wiping a spot of blood from her nose.

“I cannot believe you two! This is a
children’s
carnival! You’re ruining everything. Do you realize what you’re going to have to do to work off this many demerits? Never in the history of the Chamber of Commerce—”

Zeb came running up, frantic. “Jane! Jane! We’ve got to go! Jolene’s mom just called. She’s in labor!”

Head Courtney seemed supremely annoyed at the interruption, but her laser-beam gaze did not falter from its target. My head.

“Zeb, it’s not a big deal. You don’t really have to fake Jolene being in labor.”

“I’m not faking!” he screamed, his voice reaching an alarming soprano octave.

Turning my back on Courtney, I forced Zeb to bend over and take some deep breaths. “Zeb, calm down. Do you have the bag?”

“Yes, it’s in the car. Jolene packed in June. She wouldn’t let me help.”

I reached to pat his shoulder, but when I saw how muddy my hands were, I pulled away. “I think we can all agree that was a wise choice. How about I drive to the hospital?”

“No, no, I can handle it,” he said, showing me what he thought was a set of keys.

“Zeb, that’s a pair of pliers.”

“Maybe you should drive,” he conceded.

“Jane, where do you think you’re going?” Head Courtney thundered. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“My friend is in labor. I’m going to the hospital.”

“I did not excuse you!” Head Courtney shrieked. “You still have duties here at the carnival. There are balloons to be blown up. Garlands to be hung. Lights to be strung.”

“My. Friend. Is. In. Labor,” I repeated very slowly. “I’m going to be with her.”

Courtney put a restraining hand on my shoulder. “You’re not leaving. Abandoning an assignment at a special event will result in an automatic suspension, Jane.”

“And then what? Detention? Expulsion? Firing squad? I don’t have time for this. I’m leaving,” I told her.

Head Courtney turned an apoplectic purple. “If you walk out now, I’ll assign you to scoop horse poop after every Founders’ Day parade for the next twenty years!”

“You know what, Courtney? I don’t think I’m chamber material after all. So, you can take your precious Fall Festival and shove it up your—”

“Jane, we’ve got to go!” Zeb yelled from the car.

“Dang it, I was really looking forward to that one. Courtney, I quit.”

“This is what I get for letting some filthy bloodsucker into the Chamber of Commerce!” Courtney howled. “We’re going to destroy your bony, pasty ass, do you understand me, you undead bitch? When we get done with you, you won’t be able to sell so much as a—”

I had stepped forward, ready to belt Head Courtney in the manner she deserved. But I was cut off by Jenny, who had cocked her fist back and knocked Courtney onto her ass, into a crate full of stuffed Spongebobs.

“Jenny!” I laughed, staring at her in surprise.

“Nobody talks to my sister that way,” Jenny said, rubbing her knuckles gingerly.

“You talk to me that way,” I pointed out.

“But that’s different. I’m your sister. I’m allowed, but no one else is.”

Tears sprang into my eyes, and I threw my arms around her. “Thanks, sis.”

Jenny stiffened, then relaxed and squeezed me back. “Oh, well, anytime.”

Zeb cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt this beautiful family moment, but
my wife is having babies
. Jane, get in the car!”

We arrived at the hospital to find Mama Ginger attempting to wrestle her way past a formidable-looking nurse into the maternity ward. Unfortunately for Mama Ginger, the nurse was obviously a John Cena fan and maneuvered Mama Ginger into some sort of pretzel arm-lock position in which she was powerless.

At the sight of his mother, Zeb stopped in his tracks and muttered several of the seven words you’re not supposed to say in polite company.

“How did she know Jolene was here?” I demanded. “I thought you said you weren’t going to call her until a few days after the babies are home from the hospital.”

“I don’t know,” Zeb said, at this point on the cusp of tears. “She must have staked out our house! I thought I saw her car driving up and down our road yesterday, but I told myself even Mama wasn’t that crazy.”

“Obviously, you haven’t paid attention for the last thirty or so years.”

“I’ve got to get to Jolene,” Zeb said, his eyes scanning the hall wildly. “If Mama sees me, I’ll never get past her in time.”

“Calm down. This is why Jolene appointed me waiting-room bouncer,” I told him. “Because I’m willing to do things like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” I shoved Zeb behind the admissions desk, out of Mama Ginger’s sightline.

“Mama Ginger, what are you doing?” I called, waving excitedly.

Mama Ginger whirled at the sound of my voice, no longer struggling with the hospital’s linebacker. With Mama Ginger distracted, Zeb slunk around the admissions desk, behind her back, and into the maternity ward. She didn’t look pleased to see me, but I did provide the excuse to complain about her treatment in a really loud voice.

“This silly woman says they don’t have a patient named Jolene Lavelle listed here, but I know she’s here! I saw her mother’s car out in the parking lot!” she cried, her voice reaching hysterical levels. Several nurses poked their heads into the hallway, but seeing who it was, they ducked back into the patients’ rooms.

“Jolene must be listed as a private patient, Mama Ginger,” I said, keeping my voice soothing. She shied away when I tried to loop my arm through hers, so I took her elbow and led her into the waiting room. “That means the nurse can’t tell you if she’s here. It’s against the law.”

When we walked into the waiting room, Jolene’s entire pack was waiting there. It was fortunate that very few women in town seemed destined to have Halloween babies, because there would have been nowhere for their expectant families to sit. Jolene’s aunts, uncles, and cousins were lounging on every available surface. Jolene’s male relatives had that healthy, hearty, but blank look about them. Yes, they were nice to look at, but all hotness aside, I’d like to spend my time with someone who doesn’t live his life according to tenets set forth on
Walker, Texas Ranger
. The aunts were convened in a corner, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, absorbing it all. They all seemed to be enjoying the novelty of the experience, with the exception of Aunt Vonnie, whose mouth was puckered and unhappy.

Mimi and Lonnie McClaine, the only McClaines who liked me, were pacing the room, their stances defensive and agitated. Lonnie McClaine was picking a giant bouquet of carnations to shreds. But fortunately, there were backups. It looked as if the babies were about to be coronated. The room was absolutely packed with flowers and stuffed animals. Half of the flowers were pink, the other half were blue. They had teddy bears wearing tutus and bears wearing baseball uniforms. And a ham, which I guessed was gender-neutral.

Nothing like covering all of your bases.

Now that Jolene’s presence in the labor room was confirmed, Mama Ginger started screeching, “I have a right to see my grandchildren born!”

The entire pack flinched at once. I threw myself on top of Mama Ginger, both to keep her from launching herself toward Jolene’s delivery room and to serve as a shield—just in case Jolene’s relatives still held grudges about Mama Ginger’s wedding-related sabotage. From the floor, I looked up to find a circle of emotionally high-strung werewolves glaring down at us.

“Mimi?” I called. “Could you keep your family from, you know, committing public homicide?”

“Come on, y’all, calm down,” Mimi chided, rolling her eyes. “My baby’s having babies, I can’t take time to bail your asses out of jail.”

The pack let out a collective huff and backed down. Because Mimi was the alpha female and they pretty much had to.

“They’re my grandbabies,” Mama Ginger whined. “I belong in that delivery room! I’ve been waiting Zeb’s whole life for this. I have the right to be in there with him!”

Mama Ginger tried to push up off the floor, and I forced her back down. Please, Lord, don’t let someone I know see me wallowing all over the hospital floor on top of Mama Ginger. Or the cops, who would probably assume I was trying forcibly to drain her. “No, you don’t, Mama Ginger. Whosoever’s hoo-ha is on display, that’s the person who decides who gets to be in the room. And Jolene didn’t even ask her own mother to be in the room, so that should tell you something. Zeb will come and get us when they’re good and ready to see us. Now, just sit down and read a damn magazine.”

Mama Ginger flopped onto a couch and petulantly flipped through a year-old copy of
Redbook
. In the choice between sitting with Jolene’s extended family, most of whom didn’t like me much better than Mama Ginger, or with Mama Ginger herself, I chose to lean against the wall. This proved to be a good call, as I had to launch myself after Mama Ginger from time to time whenever she made a break for the delivery rooms.

I could only fly-tackle a fifty-year-old woman so many times before I started losing my sense of humor, so I was grateful when my sensitive vampire ears picked up the sound of two strong cries down the hall.

15

The element of surprise is vastly overrated in any relationship.

—Love Bites: A Female Vampire’s Guide to Less
Destructive Relationships

J
olene had two perfectly healthy babies, in a perfectly normal delivery, in a perfectly normal hospital room.

It was a McClaine family first.

After the inevitable squabble between Mimi and Mama Ginger over who held the babies first (Mama Ginger was lucky she lost the struggle and not, say, a finger) and the pack was allowed to sniff the babies to their hearts’ content, I finally made it back to Jolene’s recovery room. An exhausted, beaming Zeb handed me a squirming pink bundle, and I fell in love. Little Janelyn, my namesake. The daughter I would never have. The baby I could love and spoil and then immediately hand back to her real mother. Now I knew how Aunt Jettie must have felt, to love a child so completely, to want to be a part of her life, even if you weren’t a parent.

When Zeb placed a sleeping baby Joe in my hands, it seemed like an embarrassment of riches.