Did you miss Chapter One part One?
From Double Trouble
Chapter One Continued…
I frowned. “It was in dire need of organization. I think it hadn’t been done in a whole year.”
“A year,” said Paula, overenunciating the words. “What happened a year ago?”
Oooooooh. I pushed the cart forward a few steps, feeling sheepish. “Okay, so maybe I go into nesting mode in the last month of a pregnancy. Is that a crime? Should we call a detective?”
Paula’s serious expression wavered, and she suppressed a giggle. “You are a detective. Wait—you don’t have any cases on your plate right now, do you?”
I shook my head. “No. No way. The next few months are going to be crazy busy, and I can’t take on any new cases. I told Galigani that already. He agrees. I deserve a little maternity leave.”
Paula stood in front of the cart, her arms crossed. “Exactly! That’s what I’m saying. You don’t need to vacuum again—give yourself a break. Remember how you ended up on bedrest for the last week of your pregnancy with Laurie?”
With a scowl, I protested, “That was preeclampsia! It had absolutely nothing to do with overexerting myself nesting.”
She studied me skeptically.
“In fact,” I added, “Dr. Greene told me that staying active might even help me avoid preeclampsia bedrest.”
“You and your facts.” She turned away from me to riffle through another rack of clearance items. “But I’m still not going to let you cut short our girls’ day so you can go vacuum. We have a party to plan!”
I fell silent, glancing up at the Halloween inflatables. That witch was definitely mocking me—there was an unmistakable gleam in her eyes. Her expression somehow reminded me of Sergeant Patrick McNearny, the homicide detective I often feuded with while solving murder cases.
I smirked quietly to myself. I wouldn’t tell Sergeant McNearny that he reminded me of an inflatable witch. He might not appreciate the humor.
“Oh!” Paula whirled back toward me, holding up a roll of blue crepe streamer. “Your ultrasound! How did it go?”
Resting a hand on my baby bump, I said, “Dr. Greene said she was finally able to tell if they’re boys or girls—”
“One of each?” Paula squealed, eyes shining. “That’ll be so fun! Oh, you can dress them in little outfits that almost match, but with boy and girl flair for each, and—”
“I don’t know that it’s one of each,” I interjected. “She didn’t tell me. I’m dying to know, but Jim wants to be surprised.”
Paula made a face. “I’ll talk to him. He’s crazy. We need to know.” She set the blue streamer back on the shelf in a huff. “What if you have two little boys and a closet full of Laurie’s pink onesies?”
I swallowed back a sudden surge of anxiety. “Laurie had a lot of neutral clothes when she was tiny,” I said weakly.
But deep down, I knew Paula was right. If either of twins was a boy—and especially if both of them were boys—we’d be totally unprepared.
Newborns spit up on six outfits a day. And twins . . .
We’d be dressing them in pink frilly skirts by the end of the first week!
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I glanced down at my purse in the cart, then unzipped it and pulled out a thin white envelope. “I had Dr. Greene write it down and put it in this envelope, just in case I could talk Jim into it. Should I open it? We could shop for baby clothes while we’re here, and—”
Paula snatched the envelope from my hands. “I have a great idea!” she exclaimed. “Let’s do a gender reveal at Laurie’s birthday party! Everyone will be at your house, anyway. I’ll handle all the details, and surprise you and Jim!”
My lips twitched.
I’m not so sure about this . . .
“But shouldn’t this party be about Laurie?” I asked. “We’d be letting the new babies take center stage at her birthday celebration. I already feel like I’m not making a big enough deal about it by capping the budget at two hundred dollars.”
Paula waved away my objection. “Laurie will be fine. She’s not going to know the difference.”
Well, that’s true. I was just thinking that Laurie won’t even remember this party . . . but still . . .
“I won’t take no for an answer,” said Paula firmly, turning on her heel and pointing to the left. “To the party aisle!”
After another moment of hesitation, I nodded and pushed the cart after Paula. It was always easier to cooperate with Paula’s whims than to resist them.
Maybe if I cooperated, we’d get home sooner.
And then I can vacuum.
In my open purse, I spied a half-crumpled piece of paper. My newest to-do list. I smoothed it out, looking at everything I needed to do.
Party planning. Focus on throwing Laurie a great first birthday.
We turned onto the party aisle, and my eyes landed on the last item on my list—one I’d scratched out already: 8. Find a new case? No, not this month. No time.
I nodded, satisfied with my decision. Even though part of me itched to put my detective skills to good use, the smarter part of my brain knew I should take a few weeks off.
Unless, of course, a case finds me . . .
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