“Oh.” Tara stopped where she was, looking embarrassed. “You’re coming back in, right?”
A slow drizzle was falling on Rainy’s head and shoulders. She nodded, confused by Tara’s sudden interest in her comings and goings.
“Is there…do you need me for something?” Someone cheered inside the house, followed by a round of laughter. Tara glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen door, and then looked uncertainly back at Rainy.
“No,” she said finally. And then: “I’ll see you inside.”
Rainy didn’t watch her walk back into the house; she turned, eyes wide, and jogged to the truck. What the—？
She’d wrapped the chair in old sheets, and she pulled them off before carrying her gift to the front porch and setting it down where they could find it later. She checked her phone, hoping Grant had texted. Nothing. Then, steeling herself, Rainy walked through the door.
Halfway through the baby shower, Viola pulled her into the pantry and handed her a fresh glass of wine. “I’ve got the tea,” she said, and dipped her head around the corner to make sure no one was in earshot, her braids sliding across her bare shoulder. Then she did a little dance without lifting her feet off the ground, shuffling left, then right.
“What is it?” Rainy laughed, taking a sip of her wine. Their pantry was neatly organized and labeled—even the pasta was in matching glass jars with labels that read Bucatini, Angel, Bowtie. “Wow, okay…” Rainy said, looking around. “I definitely feel like a failure.”
Viola waved an annoyed hand in her face. “Pay attention!”
Rainy faced her in the cramped space, barely able to lift her wineglass to her mouth. “Go,” she said.
Viola didn’t need further nudging.
“So, I accidentally picked up Tara’s phone earlier instead of my own—you know how we both have that same phone case.”
Rainy nodded.
“Dude, Braithe is not sick. Her text said, ‘Thanks for covering for me, I owe you.’”
“It might not mean anything,” Rainy said. But the pantry, no longer charming with its labels, suddenly felt smaller. Her breath caught and she felt hot. Viola was blocking the door with her body, her belly between them; Rainy’s back was now to the pasta, and she wanted out.
“This party was her idea. She has no reason to not want to be here.” And that was true; Braithe was consistent, and she adored Viola.
“Okay, but I’m not finished. The next text from Braithe said, ‘I’ll tell you everything tonight. Come over after the party.’”
That was harder to explain. Rainy bit her lip, trying to think of something so that she could get out of the pantry; it felt like the walls were squeezing tighter by the second.
“What are you thinking?” she asked Viola.
“Honestly, I have no idea. She told me she was sick when I texted her—‘I can barely stand up’ are the words she used to describe her situation. Do you think she’s mad at me?”
“Can Braithe be mad at anyone?”
Viola took a minute to consider that one. Then she shook her head. “No, she’s not like that.”
“Maybe she’s mad at me,” Rainy suggested. “Or one of the others. Or maybe she really is sick, and she needs Tara to come keep her company later.” With her non-wine-holding hand, she reached past Viola and turned the door handle. The door swung open and cool, fresh air reached her lungs. “Either way, this is your baby shower, and you shouldn’t be worrying about this.”
“You’re right.” Viola backed out of the pantry.
Rainy thought about how Tara had chased her outside earlier when she went to her truck for the rocking chair. That had been weird. “You’ll text me if you hear anything, yes?”
“Yeah,” Viola said. “You want to sneak out the kitchen door now, before anyone knows you’re gone?”
“Don’t you need me here?” Her voice was laughably flat.
Viola winced, holding a hand to her belly, and shook her head. “Go, before they come in here. And drive slowly past the Mattson place and see what you can see.”
“Oh my God, I love you so much.” Rainy’s relief gave way to affection and she gave her friend an awkward, over-the-belly hug before heading for the door.
“Your present is on the front porch.”
“It better be good,” she heard Viola say as the door closed behind her.
5
Then
Tanned faces stared at her from all around the room. No one was pale here, Summer noted. Even in California there were pale people, but not here. She liked that; it meant they were outside a lot. Everyone was wearing the same white T-shirt. She felt silly in her brightly colored, mismatched clothes…and then she felt embarrassed. She didn’t have much to choose from: a couple T-shirts with flowers and pants with stripes, everything faded. Taured had them stand side by side next to a table ringed with blue and yellow balloons as he spoke into a microphone, introducing them. The room squealed with glee and everyone clapped their hands for Summer and Lorraine, their newest family members. She felt so important in that moment she didn’t see the gift being handed to her, a basket overflowing with things. Her mother was handed another, and she politely thanked the room for them both. Summer was counting the kids in the room, all looking at her with equal parts jealousy and curiosity.