Сьюзен Мэллери

Sweet Spot


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a receiving blanket.”

      “I want something I can wear.”

      Nicole glanced up and groaned as she saw her sister standing in front of a mirror wearing a bright pink T-shirt with a sequined arrow pointing toward her stomach and the word Baby in case anyone was confused.

      “You’re kidding,” Nicole muttered.

      “Maybe not this one, but I want people to know I’m pregnant.”

      “Have cards printed. You could hand them out to everyone you see.”

      “You’re not helping.”

      “You don’t need help being insane. You do great all on your own.”

      Claire flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. “You’re not a very good sister.”

      Nicole smiled. “I’m the best sister you have and your favorite twin.”

      “My only twin and I haven’t decided if you’re my favorite sister. Maybe one with ducks?”

      “No.”

      “Bunnies?”

      “The baby is the size of a pencil eraser, Claire. Maybe a grape. You don’t need special clothes because you’re carrying a grape.”

      “But I’m pregnant.”

      “In a couple of months, when you’ve gained all of eight pounds, we’ll talk. Until then, wearing anything maternity is going to make you look like you’re in a potato sack.”

      “But I’m excited.”

      “I know, and you should be. This is very cool news.”

      Claire beamed.

      Nicole considered her own genuine excitement at her sister’s pregnancy a testament to her good character. She could find happiness for Claire even knowing the odds of her ever having a kid of her own were as great as her winning the lotto…not that she ever bought a ticket. Pregnancy, unless one wanted to get science involved, generally meant having a man around. She’d given up on men. Permanently.

      “Are you okay?” Claire asked. “You’re thinking of Drew, aren’t you?”

      Nicole flinched and leaned more weight on her cane. “How do you do that? Know what I’m thinking?”

      “We’re twins.”

      “Fraternal.”

      “Still. I know you.”

      It was borderline creepy, Nicole thought. And annoying. She didn’t know what Claire was thinking all the time.

      “I’m not thinking of Drew,” Nicole told her. She refused to waste any mental time or energy on her soon-to-be ex-husband. “I was thinking about men in general.”

      “You’ll find someone,” Claire promised, sounding irritatingly pitying.

      “I don’t want anyone. I’m barely separated and I’m perfectly content to be on my own.” Or she would be if everyone in her life stopped assuming she was crumbling from the emotional devastation of walking in on her baby sister in bed with her husband.

      Yes, it had been horrible and degrading and maybe even heartbreaking. But she was dealing.

      “I need to get used to being alone,” Nicole said.

      “Why? You were alone before, when you were married to Drew.”

      “Ouch.”

      Claire sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out that way.”

      “It’s fine.” Nicole wouldn’t show heartache. Not even to her sister.

      Claire gave her a gentle smile. One that spoke about compassion and an internal decision to bring this up later. When Claire felt Nicole was stronger, emotionally.

      Oh, great. Now she could read her twin’s mind? How delightful.

      Nicole glanced at her watch. “We need to go meet Wyatt.”

      “Oh! The time. I’ll hurry.”

      Claire darted back into the dressing room. Nicole wondered if she should scold herself for tricking her sister into forgetting to talk about Nicole’s tragic life, but then decided she’d earned the reprieve. After all, here it was, a Friday night and she was at the mall, an obvious extra party in what should have been a twosome. But they’d asked and she hadn’t wanted to spend the evening by herself.

      “I’ll meet you out front,” Nicole called toward the dressing room.

      “I’ll just be a sec,” Claire promised.

      Nicole walked out of the maternity store and found Wyatt waiting by the front window display. He looked uncomfortable as he studied an obviously pregnant mannequin.

      “Hey,” she said. “You owe me. I just kept your fiancée from buying something hideous.”

      “You did it for yourself,” Wyatt told her. “You’d care more than I would.”

      Nicole knew that was true, so she ignored the statement. She glanced at the bag in Wyatt’s hand. It was from the bookstore.

      “Another instruction manual on pregnancy,” she teased. “Is there one left you don’t have already?”

      “We want to do it right,” Wyatt told her. “Like you’d be any different.”

      Nicole knew she wouldn’t, but that wasn’t the point. She was about to suggest they take in a movie when Wyatt said, “How are you doing?”

      She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

      “We haven’t talked in a while. You okay? You know. With stuff?”

      “Stuff” being man-talk for anything emotional.

      Wyatt had been her friend and brother-in-law long before he’d fallen for Claire. He knew way too many of her secrets. He’d offered to beat the crap out of Drew when he’d learned about the cheating. She loved him like a brother—except for right now when she wanted to slap him upside the head.

      “Have you and Claire been talking about me?” she demanded. “Am I the subject of one of those horrible ‘what are we going to do about poor Nicole?’ conversations? Because if I am, you need to stop right now. I don’t need help from either of you. I’m fine. Better than fine.”

      Wyatt was unimpressed by her outburst. “You’re mostly staying home, you’re not seeing anyone. You’re crabbier than usual, which is a trick.”

      “I’m not in the mood to date. I know that’s a surprise, but there we are.”

      “Don’t judge everyone by Drew, okay? There are great guys out there. You need to get back on the horse again.”

      “Tell me you didn’t just say that. Back on the horse? I didn’t fall off my bike. My husband cheated on me with my little sister. In my house. That is not a ‘back on the horse’ moment. It’s the kind of thing that makes someone rethink her sexual preference, okay?”

      Her chest felt tight. Was it just her, or was it hot in here? “Look, I have to go. Thanks for letting me tag along for dinner. I’ll talk to you later.”

      She turned and moved away.

      “Nicole, wait.”

      She kept walking. When she saw the sign, she hurried—as best she could—toward the parking structure, incredibly grateful she’d met them at the mall. At least she had her own car.

      Thirty minutes later she was home where it was quiet and familiar and there was no one to ask her stupid questions or feel sorry for her. There were also too many memories and an emptiness that made her flip channels until she found a sitcom. She stared at the screen and vowed she wouldn’t cry over Drew. Not