right,” her aunt said. “All girls.”
Triplets. Melissa didn’t do things by half measures, Edmond thought. “Congratulations.”
Dawn patted her aunt’s tummy again. “What are their names?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Can I pick?”
Melissa brushed a curl off the little girl’s forehead. “I’m not ready to name them yet.”
What else was one supposed to say under the circumstances? Edmond wondered.“When are you due?” he asked.
“December,” she said. “If I can hold out that long.”
That exhausted his very short repertoire of small talk on the subject. Besides, in Edmond’s opinion, this was far from a light topic, since multiple pregnancies carried extra risks. “I hope this won’t endanger your health.”
“She’s being closely monitored.” The bearded man extended his hand. “I’m the groom’s uncle, Rod Vintner.”
“We’ve met before.” He shook hands with the man, who then solemnly did the same with Dawn. She giggled. “At the hospital.”
“Ah, that’s right.” The man nodded.
“Rod’s an anesthesiologist,” Melissa said to Dawn. “He puts patients to sleep while they’re in surgery.”
“And I’ll soon be sleeping myself, here at Casa Wiggins,” Rod announced. “I’m trading residences with the bride. She’s moving into the apartment Jack and I shared, and I’m taking her old room.”
“Ah.”
Don’t get ideas now that you’re living with my wife. Where had that notion come from? Edmond had no claim on Melissa. Besides, a positive aspect occurred to him. “I’m glad she’ll have an M.D. on hand.”
“I don’t deliver babies.” Rod waggled his eyebrows. “Come to think of it, I don’t make house calls, either.”
“But you’ll live here,” Dawn pointed out.
“You’re right,” Melissa said. “He can serve as the house physician.”
“Living together means we’ll all be one big happy family, and doctors don’t provide medical care to family members,” the man deadpanned.
“You wouldn’t help her?” Dawn demanded.
“Of course he would,” Melissa assured the child. “Rod’s joking.”
“It’s lucky his patients are asleep,” Dawn replied tartly. “’Cause his jokes aren’t funny.”
Edmond laughed at the unexpected jab. The man in the top hat clutched his side. “Ow! A direct hit.”
“I’m impressed,” Melissa said. “You have a wicked wit, Dawn.”
She took her aunt’s hand. “Will you sit with us?”
“Of course.”
“On that note, I have best man duties to attend to.” Rod patted his pocket, which presumably held the ring, and went to join an older man in a suit waiting beneath the arch.
“That must be the minister,” Edmond observed.
“He’s from Karen’s church.” Melissa glanced toward the kitchen door. “I’m supposed to be helping her with the food.”
“Isn’t the ceremony about to start?” The invitation said 2 p.m., and it was almost that now. The seats had been filling as they spoke. “If we wait any longer, we’ll be sitting on the window ledge.”
“You’re right.” Melissa led the way down the narrow aisle to three empty seats. The folding chairs, fitted with white covers, weren’t exactly comfortable, but Edmond found room to stretch his legs beneath the seat in front of him.
Being near Melissa was a treat. Just the musical sound of her voice calmed him. During their marriage, her nearness had filled the dark spaces in Edmond’s soul. With her, he hadn’t had to throw up protective walls. She’d understood him intuitively, which was why he’d expected her to understand that his vasectomy was a declaration of how strongly he felt about preserving their union.
She had a gift for nurturing, and he’d needed that. He still did. But she’d chosen motherhood over him.
Dawn, too, seemed to retain a bond with her. In the seat between them, the little girl hung on to her aunt as if she might disappear at any moment. In Dawn’s world, people vanished too often. The therapist Edmond had hired for her said she suffered from separation anxiety.
“You look like a princess,” Dawn told Melissa.
“So do you.” She fingered the little girl’s curls. “Who fixed your hair?”
“Grandma Isabel.” Nodding at Melissa’s bulge, she asked, “Who’s the daddy?”
That brought a flush to his ex-wife’s cheeks. “It’s a long story.”
“Can you make it shorter?”
“Sorry. Not now,” Melissa said gently. “Another time.”
Reluctantly, the little girl subsided. “Okay.”
Edmond hoped his niece wouldn’t demand that he explain. While he believed she was acquainted with the facts of procreation, artificial insemination seemed too intimate a subject for an uncle to describe.
“How’s your mommy?” Melissa asked.
Oh, damn. Edmond wished he’d had a chance to bring up his sister’s situation sooner. But before he could find the right words, Dawn blurted, “We visited Mommy in jail this morning. She’s scared.”
Nearby, several heads turned. “Barbara’s in jail?” Melissa regarded Edmond with concern.
“I’ll fill you in later.” Surely she would have read the articles in the newspaper about the robbery. However, the reports had misstated Barb’s last name as Greeley, although she and Simon had never married.
Melissa’s nod conveyed her understanding, and she directed her next question to Dawn. “Who are you staying with?”
“Grandma and Grandpa.”
“My father and stepmother, not Simon’s,” Edmond clarified. Simon’s parents—an ex-convict father whose whereabouts were unknown and an alcoholic mother with half a dozen children by assorted men—had no contact with Dawn.
“I’m glad you brought her with you.” Melissa reached across her niece to touch Edmond’s hand. “And that you’re here.”
So was he. All the same, he couldn’t resist teasing. “Glad I ignored your request?”
“Oh,
