The Fireplace, Installment Eight

            Mary had opted to stay behind with Paula. She wasn’t much of a cold weather person—at least, not this cold. The storm promising “the biggest blizzard in ten years” had died down, but it was still supposed to “hit,” probably later that night.

            After watching the others leave and waving from the window, Mary had offered to fix her sister-in-law some mint tea, to calm her stomach. Paula purposefully sat in the recliner closest to the bathroom—just in case. “Thank you,” she sheepishly uttered as Mary handed her the tea.

            Mary sat down with her own tea, an expression of genuine concern on her face. “What’s the matter?”

            “Oh, I just hate to be a party pooper is all. But I do hope Jon, Parker, and Daisy have fun. Of course, Daisy is two years shy of wine-tasting, but at least she can enjoy the cheeses.”

            “They’ll have a great time, and we can relax a bit.”

            They sipped on their tea for a moment and listened to the wind outside. “So,” Mary began, breaking the momentary silence, “What do you think is wrong? Flu bug or something?”

            “Uh…not really sure, but your mother has a theory.” Paula laughed whimsically.

            “Oh, what is that?” Mary inquired, studying Paula’s face with concentrated anticipation.

            Their eyes met for a moment, as Paula’s tone became solemn. “She thinks I might be pregnant.”

               
§

            Margaret didn’t want her husband making a fuss, and she didn’t want to spill any unnecessary beans to her son—especially if she was wrong—so she made an excuse that she thought would seem likely to Ted. “Honey, please stop at the market. I need to pick up some Crisco.”

            “Crisco? But you never run out of that stuff—you won’t let yourself run out of it,” he laughed—tenderly mocking Margaret’s passion for baking.

            “Well, I didn’t say I was out, but I did do a lot of baking in preparation for Christmas, and I will need some this week for sure.”

            That was reason enough for Ted, who shrugged and made his way down Bruely Street to Henderson’s Family Market.

            As Margaret unbuckled, Jon offered, “Mom, why don’t you let me go in and get it for you? That way you don’t have to get out in the cold. I don’t mind.”

            “No, no, you stay here. I am quite used to the cold.” And with that, she hopped determinedly out of the Expedition, making haste in case one of them decided to follow her.

            Inside the store, Margaret went straight to the pharmacy aisle, where the pregnancy tests were kept. As she perused the choices, Margaret mumbled to herself. First Response. Sheesh, makes it sound like a calamity. Plus, it included not one but five tests and was geared more toward trying to become pregnant. Margaret was pretty sure Paula already was. “Clear Blue Easy Digital Pregnancy Test,” she read aloud. About that time, an older woman happened to turn around, recognizing her voice from across the aisle—the aspirin side—not the ovulation side.

            “Well, hello, Margaret,” the friendly face greeted her. Margaret made a split-second decision to stay near the pregnancy tests and not scoot to the left where she’d be in the prophylactic section.

            “Well, hi, Karen. So good to see you. How’s Dan?”

            “Oh, feisty as ever.” Both women chuckled.

            As Karen began to take note of where her long-time friend was standing, Margaret only hoped her hearing aids had been turned down enough not to have heard her reading the test box description. “Well, I just came for some aspirin…” Karen paused, implying that she wondered what Margaret had come for.

            “Oh,” Margaret began, just a bit flustered. “I…uh, I’m looking for the cough suppressants. This cold weather, you know.” God forgive me, now I’ll have to actually buy some cough suppressants.

            Karen looked at her with a furrowed brow, her black eyes clearly searching Margaret’s face for some more reasonable explanation. After all, she’d shopped in this store for eighteen years. “They’re just down there,” Karen stated in a tone that said ‘shouldn’t that be obvious?’  

            Not even paying attention to where Karen had pointed—because she already knew—Margaret fluttered to the box of Robitussin she’d decided she’d purchase in order to keep her secret. “Thank you so much, Karen. Sometimes I get turned around.” That part was true where directions were concerned but not in the aisles of Henderson’s.

            “You’re welcome,” Karen offered, her black eyes searching quizzically but finding no further explanation. “Well, heading home to bake a pie. See you again soon, I hope.”

            “Oh, yes,” Margaret smiled, cough medicine in hand, “and give our best to Dan. Karen disappeared around the corner. Whew. Racing back to the other side of the aisle, Margaret decided to go with Clear Blue Easy, plopping it into her hand-held basket and quickly camouflaging it with a few bags of cough drops.

            Hustling to the check-out lane, trying to make up for the lost time from Karen’s inquisitiveness, Margaret nearly forgot the “reason” she’d come in. “Crisco!” She said it with such fervor that a young woman walking by jumped just a bit. Aisle seven. She grabbed it and got to the check-out just in time to see Jon walking in.

            “Everything all right, Mom?” he inquired as he spotted her.

            “Oh, just fine, just fine. Be out in a moment. Realized I needed a couple other items while I was in here. You can head back out.”

            “Well, I’m here now. I might as well carry the bag.” Always the thoughtful boy—but now was not a good time for it.

            “Oh, I nearly forgot…Ranch dressing! Could you go fetch me some, dear? And if you wouldn’t mind purchasing it, I can pay you back later. I’ll meet you at the car” (which was really an Expedition, but to Margaret it was simply the kind of vehicle one drove in rural Madison).

            “Sure.” Jon headed off, reading the aisle signs, as Margaret hadn’t directed him to the appropriate aisle. She gave herself points for the clever stall and proceeded to check out. She knew she’d get a funny look from Flo, the checker who worked the day shift, but it would be worth it in the long run. After all, in that little box was the answer to whether or not she was going to be a grandma. Smiling as she paid, Margaret scooped up the paper grocery bag—folding the top over—and made her triumphal departure.

§

            Nighttime had come with a hearty dinner and a sing-along around the fire. Ted had even broken out his harmonica. Margaret said he was “feeling his cheerios from the wine tasting.” Of course, that wasn’t true, but everyone appreciated the humor in it. Right after dinner, Margaret had asked Paula to help here with the dessert. Once in the kitchen, she reached up behind the Crisco and grabbed the box, which she’d placed inside an old chocolates box. Lifting the lid for just a moment, she revealed its contents. Paula gasped just a bit. “Oh, my.”

            “I know it’s a tad awkward, honey, but I figured you’d want to know. Run along upstairs and hide it somewhere.”

            Shocked at the twist her life was taking, here in her mother-in-law’s home no less, Paula did as she was told. While she was upstairs alone, she decided that perhaps she had the few extra moments needed to actually administer the test. This may be the only window of opportunity she’d have for a while. And at this point, her curiosity was piqued.

            The stick didn’t seem to be doing anything—what did it say? Yes, it would turn blue for a positive result. Paula watched intently, like a kid who was seeing an airplane fly over for the first time. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Then it happened.