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‘Well, you might say that.’ Ben smiled as he made his way over to greet his wife. He planted a light kiss on her cheek and looked knowingly into her eyes. He pulled her close quickly, his outstretched hand running gently over her midriff. Kim smiled at her husband and winked. ‘Come on girls, let’s get inside.’ She passed her briefcase to Ben and reached out a hand to each of her girls. ‘I’m famished. How does a round of banana splits sound?’
Later, over the promised banana splits, the girls looked at their parents expectantly.
‘So you guys have something to tell us, don’t you?’ Olivia asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Kim and Ben.
Kim was halfway convinced her eldest could read minds.
‘What is it? What is it?’ Lindsay piped up.
Kim and Ben exchanged a look.
‘Well girls,’ Ben started, ‘Mummy and I have some exciting news.’
Kim smiled. ‘Yes, well we all know we are a very lucky family, and it seems that we’ll soon have another little person to share all of that luck with.’
‘Another little person? You mean—’ Olivia looked at Kim’s tummy, understanding immediately.
Kim realised she was holding her breath. While it was good news, and likely to be received as such by willing recipients, with children you just never could tell. Olivia had been pretty young at the time of Lindsay’s arrival, so this was really the first time both girls had the ability to digest what the addition of a third child to the household could mean.
Olivia spoke again. ‘Is it going to be a girl or a boy?’
Kim exhaled; her oldest seemed to be handling this from an upfront and analytical place, as was her norm. That was good.
‘Well, we aren’t sure yet. We won’t find that out for a while,’ Kim replied gently. Digesting this, Olivia nodded.
‘OK. Well, I’m fine with either,’ she said, a small smile coming to her lips.
For her part, Lindsay looked curious about the idea, and clearly wanted to learn more about the impending arrival. ‘How will it get here? Does the stork bring it? Or does it get left on the porch?’ Her wide blue eyes were full of questions.
Ah, the innocence, thought Kim. She was about to speak when Olivia beat her to it.
‘No silly, Mummy’s going to get big and fat and then one day she just explodes. And poof, there’s the baby.’ She waved her arms around to illustrate the idea of an explosion.
Kim and Ben held back a snort of laughter at their eight-year-old’s take on pregnancy. However, Lindsay looked terrified. Her mouth dropped open as she considered her mother’s doom.
‘Mummy, do you really explode?’ Once again, Olivia had gotten the better of her little sister, and Kim was sure there would be nightmares tonight.
‘No darling, I won’t explode, not at all. But I will get big and fat.’ She laughed as she patted her still very flat tummy beneath her pencil skirt. She reached out to take Lindsay’s hand. ‘Everything will be OK,’ she said with some conviction, thinking back to this morning’s conversation with her obstetrician Dr Downey. She smiled at both her daughters.
‘Well, I hope we get a boy this time,’ Olivia said off-handedly. ‘Then maybe Daddy won’t be the odd one out any more.’
Kim snorted. It was totally like Olivia to offer her father a bone.
Ben smiled. ‘Yes, things are a bit one-sided in this house aren’t they?’
‘Want a girl,’ said Lindsay weakly. ‘Want to be big sister.’
‘Duh.’ Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘You’ll be a big sister whether it’s a girl or a boy. But remember, I’m still going to be the biggest sister.’
‘Now, now, Olivia, you have to let Lindsay take on some of the responsibility too. Being a big sister is a big job after all,’ Ben said seriously, looking at both of his daughters. ‘I’m sure though between the two of you, you’ll make a good team for Number Three.’
Both girls smiled winningly at their parents, and then Olivia decidedly offered up a high five to her sister. Grinning, Lindsay met it.
‘What’ll the baby’s name be?’ Lindsay asked and Kim and Ben looked at one another and shrugged.
‘Well, we’re not sure yet. It all depends on whether it is a girl or a boy. I guess we’ll decide that when it gets here,’ Kim told her.
It reminded her of how both girls had remained nameless for hours (or, in poor Lindsay’s case, days) after the delivery, as Kim had been in such a bad state. This time would be different though. If all went according to plan, she was determined that this baby would have a name within minutes of its arrival.
Names were important. With Olivia and Lindsay she was proud to say that both girls had lived up to their names’ respective meanings.
Olivia was perceived to be a creative person with free-spirited and artistic tendencies as well as an avid, enquiring mind. Lindsay, on the other hand, was perceived as a contributor who was responsible, caring and reliable.
Kim was looking forward to choosing a name for the next, boy or girl, and ensuring that he or she fitted with whatever they decided to call them.
‘Can I name the baby?’ Lindsay asked. Olivia’s eyebrows raised and a mischievous look formed in her eyes.
Ben looked amusedly at his wife and bit his lip.
‘Well let’s wait until the time comes, OK? It’s a long way off yet but we’ll definitely consider any ideas that you might have,’ Kim replied in much the same voice that she’d use to negotiate a business deal.
‘OK then,’ Olivia said. ‘But if it’s a girl, I would like to enter the names of Hannah or Miley to consideration.’
Oh Christ, groaned Kim internally.
‘But what if it’s a boy?’ Ben offered, obviously trying to move away from the thoughts of Hollywood pop stars.
‘Justin!’ Lindsay cried. ‘Definitely, Justin.’
Kim snorted with laughter. ‘I think I’m seeing a pattern here,’ she said smiling at Ben. Her youngest was only five, and already she knew all about Justin bleedin’ Bieber. Crikey, what would they be like when they were teenagers, if they knew this kind of stuff now?
‘Well, that does it,’ Ben said in a teasing voice. ‘I think I know two little girls who watch far too much TV. It’s the History Channel for you two from now on.’ He scooped them both up in his arms as they squealed with laughter.
‘Great, next we’ll be getting Caesar and Cleopatra . . .’ Kim said archly.
Lindsay rushed forward and encircled Kim around her middle, as far as her little arms would go.
‘Thank you Mummy,’ she said, smiling.
‘For what?’ Kim asked, hugging her.
‘For bringing us another baby. I don’t care if you get fat.’
Kim hugged her daughter with all her might, tears shining in her eyes. Remember this moment, she cued herself.
No, she didn’t care if she got fat either. She would balloon out to three hundred pounds if it meant she could feel this happy, for ever. She wouldn’t trade any of this for the world. She had everything she needed, right under this roof and within these walls.
Chapter 5
By the time Cara was due to meet Shane for dinner, she was only beginning to shrug off the effects of the jalapeño burger and cheese fries at lunch.
Pregnant or not, she still didn’t understand how Kim could put all that food away the way she did.
While Cara had never had any major problems with her weight, she still needed to make a conscious effort to work at it, religiously hauling her ass to the gym at least three times a week. Kim on the other hand stuffed her face, rarely worked out and still strutted around as glamorous and skinny as ever.
Freak of nature, definitely. Had to be genetics.
Cara checked the time on her watch. She was running late. She had meant to be at the restaurant – a lovely Mediterranean bistro called Stromboli in the city centre that was a favourite of theirs – by seven o’clock. It was now a quarter past and her taxi was still stuck in traffic.
She picked up her
phone and typed a quick text message to Shane.
Sorry, almost there, traffic on the quays is hell, coming as fast as possible.
A moment later her phone pinged and she read his response.
Don’t rush, I’m not going anywhere.
She smiled and let out a sigh of relief; thank goodness he was patient. While she would never have readily admitted to it, the truth was he ended up waiting for her a lot. Cara struggled with punctuality.
Her thoughts drifted back to their conversation earlier this morning and she vowed to herself that she would not bring the subject of marriage up again. Like Kim said, it would happen when the time was right, and she knew now that she had nothing to worry about; he’d assured her of that this morning.
Instead, she was going to be a sexy, confident, independent woman and was certainly not going to sit around wondering when her ring finger would find an accessory.
Moments later, the taxi zipped down a couple of side streets that landed her close to the restaurant entrance. Paying the driver, she reached into her bag for her lip gloss and, smoothing it on with the fingers of one hand, she fluffed her hair with the other.
She’d do.
She got out and walked into the restaurant, which was still full of an after-work crowd made up of well-heeled young professionals. Cara glanced around and tried to find Shane. She was sure that he was more than likely waiting in the bar area for her, so she scanned the occupants.
Spotting him, a smile jumped to her face and her heart leapt in her chest. The sight of him automatically sent a jolt of attraction and electricity through her core.
She strode across the hardwood floor, and the crowd almost seemed to part for her as she closed the distance between them. He held out a hand as she neared and she placed her palm in his.
‘Hello gorgeous.’ He smiled.
‘I’m sorry I’m late, rush-hour traffic really can be a terror.’
‘Don’t worry about it, and I’m used to waiting for you. What are you having?’ Shane got up from the barstool that he had been sitting on and offered it to her. The place really was packed.
She took a seat and considered the extensive wine list on the countertop. Normally, she was a red wine lover, but tonight was different.
‘A Grey Goose dirty martini, extra dirty,’ she said to the barman. Shane’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Extra dirty? What’s gotten into you?’
‘Just looking to mix it up a little, you know yourself.’
From the look on Shane’s face, clearly he didn’t. He smiled nervously and placed a protective hand on the back of Cara’s stool.
The barman duly delivered her drink and she turned to Shane. ‘To fun,’ she said, clinking the edge of his gin and tonic.
‘To the future,’ he said, meeting her gaze. His look was surprisingly intense and Cara felt her heart give a deep thump in her chest. She took a sip of her drink and reminded herself once more: sophisticated and sexy . . . no marriage talk.
‘So how was your day then?’ she said, starting the conversation.
‘The usual cut and thrust of the Irish accountancy world . . .’
‘Right – how fascinating.’ Cara feigned a yawn and Shane elbowed her.
They chatted happily until a waitress made her way over to let them know their table was ready.
Entering the dining area, they were led to a small alcove that housed one private table that looked out on to the rest of the room. It was surrounded by colourful stained-glass windows and the lights were dim to set the mood, setting off the rich mahogany of the tables and the colourful high backed banquette seating. It was a cosy space, and Cara knew from past experience that the amazing food served to enrich a diner’s experience even more.
Shane stood behind Cara and pulled out her chair, allowing her to take a seat. She thanked him as he pushed the chair in and she moved the white cloth napkin from the tabletop on to her lap. He sat across from her and smiled.
He set his hands on the table but then back in his lap, before finally returning them to the table, as if he was unsure what to do with them. Cara noted the behaviour, and wondered what was wrong. He had seemed fine at the bar moments ago, and she didn’t know what to make of the sudden fidgeting.
Oh shit . . .
‘Everything all right?’ she inquired nervously, still glancing at his hands. His fingers were now tapping the wood of the table, as if he was looking for a piano but would instead make do with pounding out a rhythm with whatever surface was provided.
‘What?’ he replied, bringing his attention back to Cara. He looked briefly at his fingers as if he had previously been unaware of what they had been doing. ‘Oh sorry, I just need to order another drink.’ He picked up his empty glass and his hand shook and rattled the leftover ice.
Cara was now seriously worried. First off, Shane was never jittery. Second, he was never impatient. And third, he wasn’t a big drinker and certainly not some kind of addict who started to shake while he waited for his next fix.
‘Shane, are you all right?’ she asked, her internal radar screaming at her that something was up. Oh God, she knew she should never have mentioned that whole marriage thing this morning. Now he was spooked.
‘Yes, why do you ask?’ he said, offering up a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
‘You’re just acting sort of weird all of a sudden.’ Cara glanced around at her fellow diners, looking for clues. She wondered if he had perhaps seen someone he knew but didn’t want to meet, and that was what had set off the nervous behaviour.
‘Really Cara, I’m fine, I’m just . . . I’m just hungry. I didn’t get lunch today. Speaking of which, did you end up cancelling with Kim earlier? You mentioned this morning that you might.’
Her thoughts temporarily distracted, she shook her head. ‘Actually, I did see her. I completely forgot that I was planning to cancel and she showed up at the office so we ended up going out anyway.’ She smiled. ‘I’m glad – it turns out she had some news.’
‘Really? Tell me all.’
‘Clancy baby number three is on the way. I’m the first in the family to know.’
Shane smiled and he looked like himself again. ‘Well that’s fantastic,’ he said happily. ‘I bet is Ben is over the moon.’
Cara nodded her head. ‘They both are. I feel really chuffed that she told me first though. She really is like a sister to me.’
A waitress appeared to take their drinks. ‘What can I get you?’
Shane picked up the wine list and pointed to his selection. ‘Let’s have a bottle of the Veuve Clicquot.’
She smiled. ‘Good choice. I’ll be right back.’
Cara looked at him, somewhat shocked at the champagne order but at the same time relieved. He couldn’t be planning to break up with her if he was ordering champagne. Unless he was so desperate to be rid of her, he wanted to celebrate when it was over . . . ‘What’s with the champagne?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘Ah why not? We’re a long time dead after all.’
Cara didn’t understand. A second ago, Shane had looked like he couldn’t wait to get out of here, now it seemed he was settling in for the night.
The waitress returned with an ice bucket, flutes and the bottle of champagne. She opened it and poured both Cara and Shane a glass. When she was finished, she looked at Shane. ‘Would you like to order food now?’
Cara started to speak up but Shane shook his head. ‘Let’s have a glass of this first, and give us a few more moments.’
‘Not a problem,’ the waitress said, taking her leave.
So much for being hungry . . . Now Cara was thoroughly confused. ‘So, seriously, what’s the special occasion?’ she inquired, holding up her glass of champagne and glancing at the bottle.
Across the table, Shane cleared his throat. He hadn’t yet picked up his glass and he looked to be holding on to – no, clutching – the edge of the table. He pressed his lips together and seemed to be considering his next words.
&nb
sp; Finally, he spoke. ‘It’s just, I . . .’ Suddenly his words were cut off by a sharp cry from the other side of the restaurant, and their attention was immediately directed to where the sound came from. Across the room, a woman was crying what appeared to be happy tears as her dining companion, down on one knee at the side of the table, seemed to be sliding a diamond ring onto her left hand.
‘Aww,’ Cara said, smiling. She started to clap with the rest of the diners as the woman stood up and encircled her fiancé in her arms, covering his face with kisses. ‘That’s so sweet.’ She turned her attention back to Shane. His pallor had changed to an even more ghostly shade, and the confident, calm smile that had graced his face earlier was gone. In truth, he looked like someone who was about to be sick at any moment.
Oh God, Cara thought, panicking. He really is afraid of marriage.
‘Shane, are you all right?’ she asked, all her fears from before suddenly returning. Regardless of what he’d said earlier about having no issues with marriage, no man should react that badly to someone else’s engagement.
‘Sorry, I just lost my train of thought there.’ He shook his head as if hoping to shake off the memory of what had just taken place across the dining room.
‘Talk about a cliché, huh?’ Cara joked, indicating the couple and hoping to once again lighten the mood.
But Shane now looked positively green, and seemed to be having a hard time swallowing. He looked around as if he was trying to figure out where the nearest exit was.
Even more thoroughly confused at this point, Cara had no idea what to say next. She glanced at her glass of champagne and fought the urge to grab it and throw it back in one gulp. Searching her mind for a way to extricate them from this situation, she remembered that Shane had been about to make a toast.
‘So,’ she said with an easy-going smile, ‘what were we about to toast to?’
Shane searched her face, and his eyes nervously moved back and forth in his head. ‘Right . . . a toast, yes, right,’ he stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words.