Mollywood (22 page)

STRESS IS A MEGABITCH with dragon lady nails. If stress were embodied in a woman, she’d be an uncaring, prissy, skinny little plastic girl that revels in torturing kittens. Does she care that I can’t drink anything without a bathroom trip in five minutes? No. How about that I can’t sleep comfortably because I currently feel like I have a watermelon strapped to the front of my body? Nope. No personal fucking space because every Tom, Dick, and Mary put their hands on my stomach without asking? Uh huh. Or the endless stream of personal horror stories involving child birth from random strangers in the toilet paper aisle of the grocery store? Hell to the no.

Instead of cutting me some fucking slack,
she (
stress, that is) dropped napalm into the middle of a crowded room and then sat back to watch the place burn down. I really should have expected it. I should have known that things were going too well.

After deciding that we needed a break before the business trip to Galveston, Joe and I talked to our employees and delegated everything so we could have Monday off. For the first time in forever, we had some unscheduled time together. It was glorious to just lay around in bed until nearly noon, eating kolaches and drinking cocoa. We cuddled and argued about baby names. He refused to let me name our daughter Wednesday after the beloved Addams Family character, and I balked when he suggested Leonitus Maximus for our son. You might say we didn’t make a lot of progress on that front, but it did make for lively conversation.

I had a growing feeling of foreboding as the holiday approached. The dreaded family gathering had morphed into a Jensen/Hildebrandt overnight Thanksgiving retreat at Tamryn and Robbie’s 100 acre ranch. The ranch was just far enough outside of Driftwood to be considered a long drive. Tamryn planned to have plenty of booze flowing and insisted she had more than enough guest rooms for everyone. She demanded the kids bring their swimsuits and the guys bring their cowboy boots for a morning ride.

Once our bags were packed, I almost called her to cancel the entire thing. I had that feeling you get when you know you’re forgetting something really important: like your coffee on the roof of the car or to put on deodorant before you leave for work. Then I decided it was just hormones messing with my mind. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was probably women’s intuition.

We left town on Wednesday in the afternoon. We took the truck, and Joe drove slower than he normally did, almost as if he was unconsciously trying to delay our arrival. When we pulled into the ranch, Tressa and Jaimie were waiting on the stairs leading up to the rustic mansion. They dog-piled Joe when he stepped foot outside of the truck, and then peppered us both with questions about the babies. Tamryn rescued us and we all went around back to sit on the wrap around porch. As the girls splashed and frolicked with Joe and their father in the pool, Tamryn brought me some lemonade from the kitchen.

“So how have things been, Molly? You’re not working too hard, are ya?

“Still working full time, but it’s getting harder to put in my time in the truck. Frankly, my gut is getting too big for me to manouvre in such a confined space.”

“Do you have enough coverage so you can quit working early?” She asked.

“We just finished training a couple of replacements. I’m watching them like a hawk for a while. Can’t have quality compromised, ya know?”

She nodded. “What about Joe? I know last time he turned into a total workaholic. Is he getting any rest?”

I felt goose bumps break out at her mention of ‘last time’, but continued the conversation as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “I convinced him to push his workload off on Mac and his new employee Nick on Monday. The two of us actually got a moment’s peace. Based on the stories my mother keeps telling me, we better sleep all we can before the twins arrive.”

She laughed and nodded.

“Sleep deprivation. One of the many joys of parenthood. So how’s the house hunting going?” Dread must have shown on my face because her expression sobered. “That bad?”

“Worse. Joe’s started prescreening places. For every six he looks at, we might go see one. It’s appalling what people want for houses with asbestos, black mold or structural damage.”

“They can’t all be wrecks and money pits. Are you two that far apart on what you want?” Maybe she was trying to be supportive but my anxiety purred like a well-tuned engine. Joe insisted she was being pushy with her suggestions and that made my temper flare. I bit back a comment about her living vicariously through us, but just barely.

“No, I’m sure we’ll know it when we see it. We just haven’t seen it yet.” I decided to change the subject before my hormone-fueled madness won out. “So where are your parents? I thought they were staying here?”

“They
were
staying here…” She responded, her eyes shifting cautiously to Joe, who’d just climbed out of the pool and retrieved a towel from a neighboring chair. His hard body glistening in the last rays of the afternoon had me ready to retire to the room we’d claimed for the evening.

“Did you and dad get into it or something?” He asked, grinning slyly at his sister. “Did you finally tell him you voted for Obama?”

“No and no. They just found somewhere else to stay.” She replied, toying absently with her dark braid. She suddenly seemed entirely too focused on her sweet tea.

“They got a hotel?” Joe dropped into the chair next to me, his face transformed with suspicion. “With all the guest rooms here at Palace de Robbie? What the hell, Tamz?”

“No, Joe.” She snapped so suddenly that I actually jumped. “They bought a house, okay? Not everyone takes months to find one.

Joe looked completely stunned by her response and I felt my heart hammer. I was about to rip into Tamryn and tell her to get off Joe’s back, when Jaimie ran up and squirted her in the face with a water gun. I nearly peed my pants trying to contain my laughter. Joe, on the other hand, cackled like a hyena.

Tamryn tore after her youngest daughter, letting loose with a stream of curse words. When her eldest daughter, Tressa, scolded her for her filthy language, Robbie, who was usually neutral, backed his daughter.

“Mom and Dad should be here in an hour.” Tamryn continued our conversation as if things of this nature happened on a daily basis in her life. She wiped her running mascara onto a nearby towel as she turned her raccoon eyes on me. “What about your brothers and your mom?”

“Mason and his kids are waiting at Mac Jr.’s school so they can give bring him. Mac’s closing up the shop and then riding his bike out. Mom and Granny should be here any minute. They’re riding with Robin.”

Tamryn smirked and took a drink. “I cannot wait to get my father and your grandmother in the same room. From the sound of things, that should be priceless.”

“Like our own little Republican Convention. Someone call Rush Limbaugh,” Joe joked, He leaned back in his chair and placed an ice cold hand on my shoulder. “Aren’t you gonna get in the pool, baby girl?”

“It’s November, Joe! It’s too damn cold in there.” I scoffed. “Our babies would be born with icicles hanging from their chins.”

“It’s heated.” He replied, but I shook my head. The thought of anyone seeing me in a bathing suit was deplorable.

“I’m gonna go see what I can help with in the kitchen.” I announced, starting to my feet. I was still moody from Tamryn’s attack on Joe.

“Don’t you dare! I hired caterers. You just sit there and relax.” Tamryn ordered. I lowered myself carefully back down and chewed on the inside of my lip. I wanted to tell her that I did my best relaxing in the kitchen, but I figured from the loaded look Joe gave me I’d better just shut up and do what I was told.

I heard the familiar rumble or Mac’s Harley, and rubbed my temples. I felt a headache coming on, one that the piddly Tylenol I was allowed to take couldn’t touch.

“That’s my brother.” I said, pushing myself to standing. “I’ll go let him in.”

Mac had his hand raised to knock when I swung the front door open.

“Holy shit!” He blurted in a stage whisper, looking around to be sure we were alone. “Tamryn did good. This place is a fucking castle.”

“I know, right?” I asked, almost laughing at how Texan I sounded on the word ‘right’. Being in the country was wearing me down already.

“You’re moving on up, Short Shit. Out classing us, yet again.” He mumbled, as his eyes swept the vaulted ceilings and marbled floors.

“Shut the hell up.” I grumbled, rocking my shoulder into his.

“Where should I put my stuff?” He asked, taking off his do-rag and raking a hand through his near black hair.

“Come on. Let’s go find you’re room.” I turned and Joe wandered into the room pulling a shirt on over his head and tragically hiding his six pack.

“Hey.” Joe said, with a crooked smirk. “I see you found the place.”

“It was kind of hard to miss.” Mac deadpanned. “Do you
ever
miss an opportunity to take your shirt off you male model looking mother f—” Mac began in a mocking and accusatory tone, but cut himself off when the door swung open behind him and Joe’s father and mother stepped across the threshold.

“Hi!” I chirped, elbowing Mac in the universal Hildebrandt shut-the-hell-up gesture.

“Molly!” Joe’s tiny mother pushed his dad out of her path and made for me with outstretched hands. I braced for the impact of her hands on my belly, but instead she gave me a friendly hug.

“Ma’am.” I replied, smiling. I’d only briefly met Joe’s parents once before, but she’d hugged me that time, too. Joe’s sister and mother were very touchy/feely types. Still, the familiar gesture took me by surprise.

“Please, call me Felicia. You look so lovely, pregnancy agrees with you.” She grinned, and that was when her hand dropped to my baby bump.

“Mom.” Joe’s greeting sounded like a distant rumbled of thunder. Her eyes shot to his and she flounced in his direction and swooped into his arms.

“I cannot believe you didn’t call me about this, Joseph.” She scolded, but her tone resonated with unadulterated joy.

“And steal Tamryn’s thunder? Not a chance.” Joe replied lightly, but after a couple of beats too long. I was watching him carefully, when his father stole my attention away.

“Molly.” Joe’s father called out to me in greeting. He gave me a stilted smile and engaged me in a polite handshake. I could feel his eyes skimming my full sleeve of tattoos which had been demurely covered in a formal gown the first time we’d met. Okay, the long sleeve that covered them was about the only thing demure about that dress, but I think Daddy Jensen was getting a more accurate picture of just what type of girl his son was mixed up with. His sharp eyes ended their journey on my protruding stomach, and my chest tightened when they bulged in shock.

“My goodness! You look like you’re due any day!” He exclaimed, and I wanted to vanish into my room with a box of tissues and a pint of Haagen-Dazs
®
. Ever supportive, my brother Mac snorted.

“James!” Joe’s mother exclaimed, as if James Jensen had just slapped me across the face with a pair of leather gloves. “She’s having twins. She’s going to be twice as big!”

“Not helping, Mom.” Joe murmured as I felt all the heat in my body rush to my face. I saw a storm front brewing behind Joe’s green eyes, and tried to think of something funny to say that might lighten the mood.

“Hey, sis. Weren’t you going to show me where I’m crashing?” Mac interrupted, and I wanted to kiss him.

“Oh. Yeah. Please excuse us.” I practically curtseyed for them as I backed out of the room toward the north wing of the sprawling house.

“Jesus. Those two haven’t changed a bit.” Mac whispered as I led him down the hall of guest rooms. “She’s still June Cleaver and he still acts like he’s running for re-election.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, as I pulled open a bedroom door and saw our bags on the bed.

“He was a Representative when Joe was in elementary school.”

I wrinkled my forehead, confused. “Of what?”

“Of the district, Molly. He was in the Texas House of Representatives.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I rubbed my temples again. Just when I thought I’d made peace with our drastically different backgrounds, another whopper of a surprise popped out like a cobra from a woven basket.

“Is that your luggage?” Mac nodded to our bags, his pale eyes rolling to the ceiling. “If so, I want a room at the other end of the hall. I already have to work directly under your bedroom. I need a break from
that
disgustingness. Besides, tomorrow’s the high holy day of pigging out and I won’t have you two spoilin’ my appetite.”