“WHERE’S THE SERVER?” ER Trauma Nurse Wendy Smith asked as she and her sister-in-law, Aiyana, grabbed a table at the Snaggle Tooth. The pub was all but empty, and she was disappointed to find no trace of an employee anywhere.
“Welcome!” a guy finally shouted from the kitchen doorway, eyeing Aiyana’s enormous belly with trepidation. “Be with you in a second.”
Her sister-in-law, besides being married to Wendy’s oldest brother, Ned, was also thirty-seven weeks pregnant with twins. Wendy felt sorry for her, and a bit envious, to be honest.
Not that she’d share those feelings with anyone.
Having children of her own wasn’t in the cards.
It had been Aiyana’s idea to eat a late lunch at the pub today and against Wendy’s better judgment she’d said yes. The place held special memories for her sister-in-law. It was where she and Ned had gone on their first date. The pub was also where Wendy’s friend and boss, Dr. Jake Ryder, had taken his new wife, Dr. Molly Flynn, after their first date. Seemed the place was crawling with love bugs. Wendy did her best not to itch.
But at least the food was good. And when a hungry pregnant woman suggested the place that served her favorite comfort meal, you didn’t argue.
Aiyana picked up a menu off the scarred wooden tabletop, then shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. At near full-term, however, it wasn’t happening.
“Need help?” Wendy asked.
“What I need is a crowbar.” Seemed the only part of her usually effervescent sister-in-law that functioned properly these days was her appetite. Everything else had gone wonky because of sleep deprivation and abundant hormones.
“How about we split the salmon nachos?” Wendy suggested, perusing her menu. “Looks like they have your favorite Peanut Butter Brownie Surprise for dessert too. Anything else?”
“A side of Pitocin.” Aiyana winced and rubbed her lower back. “All the books I read made having a baby sound like a breeze. This is not my idea of fun.”
Wendy hailed the waiter to place their order, then settled back in the booth. “Have you and Ned decided on names?”
Aiyana shook her head as the server brought them water. “We’ve been busy.”
True. In addition to becoming a new dad soon, Ned was learning the ropes to take over the family mechanic shop from their father. Her other two brothers, Jim and Mike, were also busy, shouldering the extra duties Ned had left behind when he’d become the manager. Wendy helped out there when she could, despite her busy schedule at Anchorage Mercy, figuring it was the least she could do since they’d raised her after Mom had died.
Wendy had been just ten when it had happened, but she remembered it like yesterday.
She sighed. Her thirtieth birthday was looming, and she’d begun to hear the ticktock of her biological clock louder than ever, no matter how improbable.
But getting pregnant, for her, would be a huge disaster, even if she did secretly want a baby of her own. Life was hard when you could be a walking genetic time bomb. Huntington’s disease had taken everything from her poor mother by the end of her too-short life. She’d been unable to walk, talk, swallow. She’d died a shell of the vibrant woman she’d once been.
The thought of leaving behind a husband and children was too devastating to consider.
So it was best not to go down that route at all.
Wendy had been tested, of course, at age eighteen, just as her brothers had been before her. But they’d all been in serious relationships at the time they’d gotten their results, so it seemed more urgent for them to find out. She hadn’t been seeing anyone when she’d had her testing. In fact, she’d been ready to head off to college and begin her nursing career. With all that pressure, the last thing she’d wanted was a Huntington’s positive result looming over her head too. She’d always figured there’d be plenty of time to find out later. Then, as the years had passed, and her life had moved on, the time had never seemed right.
Her brothers had all been negative for the gene mutation that caused Huntington’s disease. There was a fifty-fifty shot of inheriting. Being the last out of four siblings...well, Wendy knew the odds weren’t in her favor. It would’ve been a miracle if she was negative too, and when it came to her own mortality she wasn’t the betting type. So, twelve years on, she’d never requested her results, never wanted to know, never wanted to play Russian roulette with her own life. Just the thought of spending the rest of her days like a
