The Storm (Fairhope) (21 page)

“So, Grace, you seem to be feeling good. Are you taking your medicine?”

“Jana! Shush.” In exaggerated fashion, her eyes peeled the restaurant, which now held maybe six customers. “I don’t want
everyone
to know I’m nuts.” Taking her first bite of her chicken quesadilla, she shook her head resignedly. “Not while I’m breastfeeding.”

“How does Gavin feel about that? Isn’t there one you could take while breastfeeding?” I asked cautiously, lifting Calla from her carrier. Ugh. No doubt, she smelled like a sewer. I gathered her diaper bag to do the necessary deed.

She nibbled at her rice, looking down. “I could not handle the nausea with the new one. Gavin … he knows I’m breastfeeding because it’s best for Emma. Everything is fine. I feel great.”

“What does your doctor say?”

“She … she doesn’t exactly
know
I’m not taking my medicine.”

Her eyes stayed downcast as I pulled myself from my fajitas to change Calla’s diaper.

The tension in the air hung as thickly as the humidity. Grace not medicated was not ideal … ever.

When I returned with clean hands and Calla a clean behind, Grace was buzzing again. “You know, Gavin had someone approach him about
recording
? Can you believe that? I’m still jealous of all the women who fall over his every move. I’m not sure I can handle it. Can you imagine all the travel he would have? And how nerve-wracking it will be? And I don’t want to leave Fairhope. I love it here. But, am I crazy to not encourage him to follow his talent?” She ransacked her plate, polishing her lunch like it was her last meal. “I wish he’d jump on
me
more often. I think he’s bored with me in bed. Maybe he’s freaked out that a tiny human sucks my breasts now instead of him.”

“You’re going to have to do something to change his mind…” I teased, seductively bringing a finger to my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. “Practice what you preach, eh?”

Yuck. My hand tasted like diaper rash treatment. I chugged half my second glass of Dr. Pepper.

“Like what, post a Craigslist ad for a threesome?”

We both busted out laughing.

“Or grant him a hall pass, like, one night a month?” I raised my eyebrows, totally kidding.

“Oh,
hell
no! No easy temptress can make him squirm like me. He kissed variety goodbye when he slid this diamond on my finger.” She threw her left hand to the light, her impressive ring glittering brilliantly.

“What about swinging?” I watched her face curiously, wondering her real opinion on that.

There
was
a slight pause … or maybe it was a figment of my imagination. “Nah,” she said. “I have no desire to see him screwing another woman.”

“You don’t have to necessarily watch. There are all different types of setups. You could go in different rooms. Switch homes, that kind of thing. You don’t even necessarily have to have sex. I think it’s called
soft
swinging?”

She raised her eyebrows back at me. “How do
you
know so much about swinging, Jana?”

I shrugged innocently, ending in a devilish giggle. “I’m a good girl with a dirty mind.”

As my snicker faded, I noticed something. “Grace! What did you do to your arm?” The jagged cut looked deep, and the scab was gross.

She appeared taken aback. “Um … um…”

“Jana? Is that you?” a familiar voice almost sang from behind me.

I whirled around and immediately felt my face sprawl into a surprised grin at the sight of my redheaded friend excitedly bounding my way. “Sadie Singleton! What are you doing here?”

“Jana, it
is
you! How are you?” She hugged me tightly. “My brother is moving to Fairhope, and I am in town helping him get settled.” She gasped at the sight of Calla, who was now awake and analyzing our interaction, wide-eyed. “Look at this little doll. Am I finally meeting Princess Calla? She’s even cuter than on Facebook!”

“Yes,” I said proudly. “This is Calla.” I stroked Calla’s fragile arm, and she responded with a gurgle.

“She’s beautiful,” Sadie said, bending down to get a closer look. “I can’t believe my Jana is a mother!” She gazed at my daughter with adoration, and I felt a momentary pang of sadness for her when I remembered she could not have children.

“Jana can’t either.” I chuckled. “Oh, Sadie—this is my best friend, Grace, and her daughter, Emma.”

Completely fixated on Sadie, Emma’s angelic features spread into a heartwarming gaze. She reached both hands out to her, her eyes wide as saucers, full of wonder. “Oh my, can I hold her?”

Grace stared at Emma like she had seen a ghost. “You don’t understand. This child
screams
at strangers. You must be Mother Teresa.” She paused. “It’s nice to meet you, Sadie. Jana has told me a lot about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Lovingly, Sadie lifted Emma from her nest, and Emma instinctively laid her head on Sadie’s bare tanned shoulder. “This child is precious!” She smiled genuinely. “I think she just kissed me!”

“Everybody loves you, Sadie,” I complimented her, smiling. “How could they not? You’re so precious! Maybe you should sing to her.” Toward Grace, I said, “The girl can sing like an angel.”

“You are a teacher, isn’t that right?” Grace’s eyes darted up and down Sadie’s slender frame, obviously sizing her up.

Sadie nodded. “Yes! Many think I’m crazy, but I love my kids.”

“That’s great.” Grace smiled. “I can’t believe we are just now meeting.” She gestured toward me pointedly.

“Well, I’ve been a bad friend.” I groaned, shooting an apologetic glance Sadie’s way. “We haven’t seen each other in over a year. A text message friendship is unacceptable.”

Sadie was one of the most forgiving people I’d ever met. “No problem, Jana. I know you’ve had a lot going on…” She didn’t try to hide her sympathy.

As we gossiped, Grace and Sadie getting to know one another, Emma stayed glued to Sadie. Nestled sweetly in Sadie’s arms, her eyelids fluttered softly, beckoning her back to sleep.

“Wow, you need to visit before nap time,” Grace said in a tone I couldn’t decipher. Captivated, she cupped her face in her hands and watched their interaction. Was it my imagination, or did a flit of sadness cross her face? “I like you, Sadie. Even if I think my baby might like you better than she likes me!”

Sadie gushed over Emma for another moment before shifting her attention toward me. Her cheerful expression faded to a picture of sympathy and concern.

“So…” she began solemnly. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m not completely sure. Andrew loves me staying home, and I’m working on my art, but money is definitely tight. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t devastated about Covington giving me the boot.” I wanted to crawl back in my post-partum bubble and pretend “it” never happened.

Sadie shook her head in disbelief. “That’s unbelievable. I ran into Chris Broome, and he said they treated you pretty badly. He said it was obvious they were trying to get rid of you once you got pregnant.”

“It was,” I said, struggling to hold back tears. “It’s done now.”

“Yeah … and you were convinced that Covington Company was family friendly,” Sadie mused. “I’m glad I went another route and got certified to teach. Jana, you should sue them!”

“Andrew thinks so, too, but it seems like such a long shot, and it would kill my chances of ever getting back in the device industry. I know I have a case, but who’s going to win against Covington?”

Sadie’s green eyes glowed with inspiration. “
You
could,” she said seriously. “My uncle fights discrimination cases against large companies. He practices in Birmingham. You ought to at least talk to him.” She rummaged through her brown leather purse. “Take Uncle Jack’s business card. Keep it just in case you change your mind.”

Tentatively, I took it from her. “Thanks, Sadie … I will.”

Jack Singleton, Attorney at Law. Specializing in Gender, Race, and Age Discrimination.

I stared at the crumpled business card in my lap that night as I waited for Andrew to curl up with me in bed. Fingering it listlessly, I sighed as my stomach fluttered with uncertainty. What could one call hurt?

One of Mama’s many inspirational musings echoed repeatedly in my mind, drowning out the cheers pounding from the television speakers: “The choices we make today affect the course our future charts for us.”

As the Braves pitcher struck out the second Cubs player, the crowd roared.

The thought of striking out terrified me.

What
was
the right choice to make?

Would everyone know?

Could I handle the gossip?

Keenly aware of the risks suing posed, I pondered the consequences. Filing a gender discrimination lawsuit meant instant blackballing from the medical device industry. What if Andrew ever lost his job?

What if I
lost
the lawsuit?

God, please give me a sign.

“Why are you crying
again?
”

The next night, as nearly three-month-old Calla wobbled in my arms, I ate a snack of bitter Chap Stick and salty tears. Andrew gaped at me, disheveled from a long day at work, briefcase spilling over with papers. Armed with a slew of Styrofoam boxes that probably contained fried rice and honey chicken, his gesture was greeted with a shower-less, sobbing wife and baby momma. He found me balled up in our recliner that desperately needed the cat hair vacuumed out.

Whether it was the sleep stolen from me, the confused hormones wreaking havoc in my body, or a lethal combination of the two, I was an emotional wreck, plagued with sadness over … well,
everything.
The confidence that Holly instilled in me faded with the sadness that overcame me.

“Jana! Why are you crying again?” Andrew was visibly impatient. “Please, God, don’t tell me you are crying over that job again.”

“I don’t know. I can’t help it.”

“You need to see your doctor.” His expression was a mix of helplessness and agitation.

“
You
need to come home earlier,” I snapped. Calla startled, and I felt guilty when I noticed she, too, was still in her pajamas.

“Jana, I am doing everything I can to make a better life for you two. I need your support. The late nights won’t last forever.”

My sniffles settled a little. “I know. I’m so sorry. She … she’s been so fussy. Changing bottles didn’t work, and her pediatrician might lock me up if he knew how many bottles of Mylicon I’d gone through. When she screamed for hours, I wanted to lose my mind. I felt like … a failure.”

Andrew’s expression softened and he started to spoon out dinner on paper plates. “You are a wonderful mother.” He paused. “Want me to ask Mom to come over tomorrow and give you a break … at least for a couple hours?”

Prideful, I was tempted to shake my head “no” and then abruptly changed my mind. “Yes. Thank you.” Before her visit, I’d have to read at least one chapter of the Catholic book that my mother-in-law said saved her soul from the fiery pits of hell. Sounded like a great read for around two in the morning.

Calla belted out a piercing scream. Choking back tears again, I cuddled her close, sinking into my favorite leather recliner. She slowly quieted, murmuring softly at my gentle touch. She wrestled with a painful stomach ache, her tiny abdomen round and bloated, for several hours before she finally drifted into a troubled sleep.

Exhausted, I washed my chapped face after placing her in her crib as carefully as possible.
Never wake a sleeping baby,
Mama warned. Amen.

Too wired to sleep, I spread out on the couch with my iPhone while Andrew watched golf reruns. Full of junk mail, I almost deleted my entire inbox, but seconds before I hit “delete,” a message from Ashton Larson caught my eye.

Hi, Jana, I hope you and the baby are well,
it read.
I wanted to pass along the name and number of that lawyer I mentioned. I told him about your case, and he looks forward to hearing from you. He has the experience necessary to fight Covington Company. He practices in Birmingham, and his name isn’t Singletary; it’s Singleton. Jack Singleton…

I could barely catch my breath.

Jack Singleton.

Could this be my sign?

“ANDREW! Come here!”