a rack near the sink while Jane found a clean bowl for her cat. It was nice having someone else in her kitchen. As much as she loved owning and running her gallery and living a peaceful life in a seaside town, the loneliness hit her every night when she came home. Having Nicole living with her gave her someone to talk to.
Someone she should confide in. Soon.
As Nicole sliced vegetables, Jane peeled back the metal lid on the can of cat food. Claudette circled her legs, excited about her evening meal. Without warning, the sight and smell of the wet food hit Jane like a wave of filthy water. She put her hand to her mouth, nearly retching, and dropped the can on the counter. It rolled, crashing loudly into the stainless steel sink.
“What’s the matter?” Nicole asked, rushing over. “Did you cut yourself on the lid?”
Jane shook her head and gripped the edge of the counter, fighting nausea. She heard a chair scrape the kitchen floor and felt Nicole pressing her into it.
“Jane, say something,” Nicole said. “Do you need a cold cloth or a drink?”
“I’m all right,” she protested. “The cat food smell just got me there for a minute.”
Claudette danced around the chair legs, sniffing the air, and then jumped into Jane’s lap. Nicole grabbed the cat and set her gently on the floor. She wound through Jane’s legs and tickled her bare feet.
“She’s hungry,” Jane whispered.
“She can wait a minute. What’s going on with you? You’ve smelled cat food a million times, and if I know Claudette, she’s been eating the same kind of food since we were in college. She knows her own mind.”
Jane sat back and took a deep breath. “I’m okay now. It was a passing thing.”
Nicole put the food in the cat’s bowl and set it on the floor on the far side of the kitchen. She grabbed a chair and pulled it close to Jane’s.
“Talk to me,” Nicole commanded.
Before she could say a word, Jane’s tears betrayed her. “I was planning to tell you, but I wanted you to get settled in first.”
Nicole put an arm around Jane’s shoulders. “Tell me what? Oh, God, are you sick? What’s wrong?”
Noticing the worry in her friend’s eyes, Jane tried to smile. “I’m not sick. At least not permanently.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
It was the first time she had said the words aloud. Jane hadn’t spoken of it to anyone, even after her doctor confirmed it several weeks ago. It was her secret, the new life growing in her body. She hadn’t even told her parents, though she knew she couldn’t conceal it from them much longer. They lived an hour away, and she was surprised her mother hadn’t already figured out there was something going on, just from her voice over the phone.
“I wondered,” Nicole said.
“You did?”
“There were just a few things that didn’t seem...right.”
“You can say that again,” Jane said, sniffing and swiping at her tears. She’d already accepted the change her life was taking. A baby. For the past few weeks, the thought had come over her like sunshine through a window. Exciting, warming, but illuminating, too. How was she going to manage a baby along with her gallery? Was she ready to be a single mother? Or a mother at all?
Jane had found her own peace and joy about the child, but her emotions overwhelmed her as she tried talking about it for the first time. It was liberating but frightening, and she choked back sobs. Nicole jumped up and came back with a box of tissues.
“It’ll be okay,” Nicole said.
Jane wiped her eyes while Nicole rubbed her back and didn’t ask questions. “I’m not crying because I’m sad,” Jane mumbled from behind her tissues. “Having a baby isn’t a tragedy.”
“Of course not,” Nicole assured her. “And you’re not alone. I’m here. And Claudette will be a wonderful babysitter while we’re at the gallery.”
Jane laughed and wadded up her tissues. She looked at her friend’s sincere, supportive smile. “What am I going to do?”
“Be a wonderful mother.”
“I hope so,” she whispered. “At first I was stunned. Couldn’t believe it. But then I realized there was only one thing I could do. Be excited that I’m getting a wonderful and unexpected gift.”
“Can I be Aunt Nicole?”
“Of course. I’m an only child, so you’re the only aunt my baby is going to get.”
Nicole nodded and waited silently, hands on her knees.
“You know you want to ask,” Jane said. She would have been dying to ask if the tables were turned.
“Ask what?” Nicole said. “I’m here for you, and that’s all I need to know.”
“The father.”
Nicole got up and poured two glasses of water. “You only have to tell me what you want to tell me.”
Jane took a long, soothing drink. There was no reason to keep the truth from Nicole. Perhaps her best friend could help her figure out what to do.
“Charlie Zimmerman,” she said. “Realtor, firefighter, baby daddy.”
Nicole sucked in her lower lip but didn’t say anything.
“I’ve known him for five years. We’re friends,” Jane said swiftly. “He’s funny and attractive...but I didn’t think he was interested in me other than my status as the kid sister of the fire department. And then...”
“Then?”
“Stupid Valentine’s Day,” Jane muttered. “What a dumb holiday. It should be outlawed. It just makes single people feel unworthy and couples feel like they have to come up with some magical present or date. And then sometimes you go on dates you never would have accepted if it weren’t Valentine’s Day.”
“True,” Nicole conceded. “I spent it watching my favorite movie and drinking wine by myself this year.”
“Under the Tuscan Sun?”
Nicole nodded. “I swear I’m going to run away to Italy one of these days.”
“I wish I had been there watching it with you,” Jane said. “I wouldn’t have ended up single and pregnant.”
“So you went on a date with Charlie on Valentine’s Day?”
“No. We both had dates with other people.”
Nicole leaned back. “This is getting interesting.”
Jane laughed. “It’s not funny.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Right after I get our dinner cooking.” She stood and turned on the burner. “You need to eat, and I’m happy to listen and cook at the same time.”
Jane watched Nicole scoop ingredients into the pan, and the aroma reminded her she was actually hungry. The sick feeling from the cat food was long gone. Poor Claudette. She might need to switch to dry food for a few months. And when the baby came along...how would an aging house cat, set in her ways, adjust to the change?
How would she adjust to the change?
“He doesn’t know,” Jane said as Nicole stirred.
“I assumed. When he sat with us at the bar, I thought there might be something between you.” She turned and held a large spoon in the air. “But I had no idea.”
“I have to tell him.”
“You do,” Nicole agreed. “But not tonight.”
Jane laughed. “No,