like you have a plan.”
“I do.” She sat up. “Are you really taking Thor?”
“I am. He’ll be spending his days here while I’m at work, so Jazz won’t be alone.”
“Does Mom know?”
“I’ll tell her after dinner.”
Becca chuckled. “Thanks. She can’t tell you no and there’s no way she can watch Thor and make me get rid of Jazz, so thank you.”
“That wasn’t my master plan but it does seem to solve a lot of problems.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a DVD case, then handed it to her. Becca look at the cover and laughed.
“You didn’t! Sixteen Candles. Thanks, Lucas. You know it’s my favorite.”
“I do know.”
Becca had a thing for the ’80s. The clothes, the overstyled hair. How on earth did anyone ever wear leg warmers? But Madonna’s music was great and the John Hughes movies were always fun to watch.
“Come on,” Lucas said as he rose. “Bay and Thor are playing outside. Jazz should be with them to get the kinks out from her long drive down.”
“Okay.” Becca turned to her dog. “Come on, Jazz. Let’s go in the backyard.”
The slim, muscled dog rose and stretched, then walked at Becca’s side. Becca stroked her head and ears. She was all Jazz had now.
“I’ll be here,” she told the dog. “You can depend on me.” Because she knew all about what it was like to be an afterthought, and she never wanted Jazz to feel that way.
* * *
Stacey arrived at her office shortly after seven Monday morning. On days Kit had to get to school, their mornings were less leisurely and they both liked to be at the office early.
Except for dinner at Harper’s, they’d spent Easter Sunday getting Bay acclimated to her new home. Stacey had lost her nerve again and didn’t tell her mom about her pregnancy, rationalizing that she didn’t want to monopolize everyone’s attention on the holiday.
She and Kit had taken Bay on two long walks so she could get familiar with the neighborhood. Stacey had read up on pregnant dogs and had researched veterinarians in the office, while Kit had installed a doggie door so Bay could come and go as she liked during the day.
Bay was exceptionally well behaved. She’d slept in her dog bed in their room and had eaten. According to all Stacey had read, the dog seemed to be adjusting.
Stacey reviewed the latest test results from their new research direction. Proteins were an obvious area to investigate, but narrowing down exactly which ones and how they reacted was the tedious challenge. Still, progress was being made.
“Morning.”
Stacey looked up as her assistant, Lexi, walked into her office. Lexi, a tall redhead in her midthirties, placed a mug on Stacey’s desk.
“Herbal tea,” she said with a grin. “In case you were hoping I was going to slip you a little caffeine.”
“You’d never do that,” Stacey said with a smile. “You always take excellent care of me. How was your weekend?”
“Good. Busy. The Easter Bunny did his thing on Sunday morning. Oh, Sam fell out of a tree, which had me sweating a broken arm, but he’s fine. Still, what is it with kids and trees? It’s not like the trees climb all over them. It’s a tree—leave it alone.”
Stacey wanted to say that Lexi could simply tell her son not to climb trees, only she knew that advice would not be welcome. She wasn’t sure if it was all children or simply Lexi’s, but hers didn’t listen very well.
Her assistant was bright and capable. As she frequently did, Stacey thought it was a shame that Lexi hadn’t gone to college. She could have been successful in many different areas. Not that she wasn’t an excellent assistant—she was. But with three kids to support, Lexi was frequently scrambling to make ends meet. A career with a more lucrative pay scale would have been appreciated.
But Lexi had gotten pregnant in high school and then again a couple of years later. She’d married in her late twenties and had her third child by her now ex-husband.
People made interesting choices, Stacey thought. Some made sense while others simply confused her. She was never sure how much of that was her inability to relate to them versus the decision not making sense in the first place.
“How was your Easter?” Lexi asked as she took a seat across from Stacey’s desk.
“Very nice. Harper prepared a wonderful meal. I brought plenty of leftovers for lunch if you’d care for some.”
Lexi closed her eyes and moaned. “You know I love your sister’s cooking. What that woman does with brownies should be illegal.”
Lexi’s interest in food greatly contributed to her weight problem. Stacey had tried to explain that she should think of food as fuel—like gas for a car. Perhaps that would allow her to lose weight. Lexi had told Stacey that while she was the best boss ever, she wasn’t allowed to comment on her personal appearance and if she did it again, Lexi would write her up.
It had been the only moment of tension in their otherwise-successful working relationship.
Stacey honestly hadn’t understood what she’d done wrong. Kit had tried to explain that Lexi probably knew she had a weight problem and wasn’t looking for Stacey to try to solve it. Which made absolutely no sense. Not only were there health risks, but Lexi was always complaining about being tired and that she couldn’t buy cute clothes. Simply eating less would make it all go away.
But Stacey appreciated Lexi and wanted to keep her happy, so she had vowed not to say anything ever again. She’d brought in brownies Harper had made as a peace offering and all had been well.
Lexi opened her eyes. “Did you tell her?”
No need to ask, tell who what? Lexi had known about the pregnancy since Stacey had had her first ultrasound. She wanted to pretend confusion as to why it had been so easy to tell Harper and Lexi about the baby, yet so hard to tell her mother, only she couldn’t. She knew exactly why she didn’t want to confess all to Bunny.
Maybe it was a bit like Lexi and her addiction to food. Knowing the right thing to do didn’t make it any easier to accomplish.
“We have a new dog.”
Lexi blinked at her. “There’s a non sequitur. You have a dog?”
Stacey explained about Becca and the inherited dogs. “We took Bay. She’s beautiful and so well trained. With all the confusion, it didn’t seem like a good time to tell my mother about the baby.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure someone believes that, but it wouldn’t be me. You are lucky you’re tall enough that your pregnancy doesn’t show or she would have guessed by now anyway. You’re going to be one of those annoying women who doesn’t look pregnant until the last three
