I didn’t dare tell Mom what I was up to and I doubted that Dad would approve of my endeavor any more than Mom would. I had no way of getting out of the house to buy Max’s present. I was at the kitchen table, trying to think of how I could get out. Wal-Mart was miles away down the highway and I wasn’t legally allowed to ride my bike on the highway.

My head was hurting from thinking so hard when the Connie sauntered into the kitchen, her blond perm bouncing gaily at her shoulders. The key chain on her jeans tinkled. Her car keys in particular.

Oh buggers, I thought bitterly. My transportation started searching through the refrigerator. She came to the table with a boxed juice and sat across from me.

“So, Stace, what have you been up to?” she said, sipping the juice. I noticed her wedding ring was no longer on her finger. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Nothing,” I said, baiting her. “I’m completely bored.”

She shrugged. “Feel like doing something?”

Took the bait. Took the bait. Hee-hee. But I didn’t know how to answer without sounding suspicious. “Ehm, urrgh . . . you feel like going . . . to Wal-Mart?”

She took a sip of her juice and eyed me quizzically. “Why?”

“You know, maybe to buy some clothes or something. Or some stuff for Valentine’s Day! It’s tomorrow you know. Maybe we can . . .” I trailed off because Connie was shaking her head.

“Nope. I don’t do Valentine’s Day.”

Now it was my turn to give bug-eyes. “Since when, may I ask?”

She twirled her golden hair on her finger and avoided my question. An unmistakable sign of insecurity and embarrassment. The girl knew she was acting stupid. “Clothes shopping sounds good though. I do need a new sweater. When do you want to go?”

“Now!” I said, jumping up from the table. “I’ll go get ready.” Before she had a chance to say anything else, I bounded up to my room and slammed the door. Instead of getting ready, however, I paced around, working out this new problem. I was going with Connie, carrying out a spy mission right within enemy lines. How on earth was I going to do this?

I looked over at the neglected algebra paper on the desk. Plopped down on the seat and started scrawling on the paper.

Translate the problem into an equation: then solve

X = how to keep Connie occupied while I buy her present.

I paused with the pencil hovering over the paper. I was never good at equation solving. Always needed hints.

Okay, I needed to find coefficients that equal X.

My sneaking away + distraction = X

What distraction??? I racked my brain, scanning my room to see if there was anything in there that might help me, give me inspiration. My cell phone, my laptop, my algebra book . . . and then I saw it. By my bed, I had a small montage of various pictures pasted onto my wall. One of them caught my eye in particular. A picture of me and my little brother. My little brother.

I sighed. Time to get out my wallet.

We were in the car twenty minutes later, Connie at the wheel of her of tiny blue convertible, me sitting in the passenger’s seat, twiddling my thumbs and trying to look like I was enjoying myself, and Ryan, my thirteen year-old brother in the back, looking utterly horrified at the fact that he had to join us on a girl’s shopping trip.

I had spilled my plan to him after asking him to come along as a distraction while I got Max’s present. At first he was all like, “Gaah! A girl’s shopping trip? Bury me under twenty-four feet of radioactive residue first.”
I wasn’t worried. It was only expected that he’d refuse at first. But I had my secret weapon behind my back and that was when I’d jiggled it. The sound of the jingling change perked his ears up like a dog hearing a squirrel. I pulled out a five dollar bill and then waved it in front of his nose. He practically drooled. But then he crossed his arms resolutely over his chest.

“Ten.”
I gaped at him. Why, that money-grubbing, sticky-handed rascal! If he thought I was going to just throw away ten bucks, he had another thing coming. “Six.”

We settled on eight dollars. He was a hard bargainer. I reluctantly put the money in his grabbing hands. He held it tightly, as if it might jump out of his grip and run away.

“Now come on,” I’d said. “Get ready to go.”
As I left his room, he moaned, “I’m too young to die!”


“You got the money, didn’t you?” I’d practically snarled. “Now remember, I need you to distract Connie. But don’t be too obvious about it. And don’t say a word about my plan. For your own self-preservation. And mine. Understand?”

Now we were in the car, driving to our destination. My large purple, sequined tote was at my side. It was stuffed with all my money, plus what Max had left me at his house. I’d picked it up earlier and was shocked to see how much he was willing to spend on his runaway wife.
All three of us were completely silent. I could hear my breathing, fast and raspy. And nervous, because I was about to start meddling. Even more. Sorry, Mom! This is nothing personal, you know.

“So-uh, Connie?”


“Hum?” she asked.

I didn’t like what I had to do. But it was a priority, because I was thinking, if Max is buying her a present, should she buy him one, you know, just to be sure Max knows there are no more hard feelings. But how would I get Connie to agree to that without telling her my plan?

“You feel like talking?” I didn’t have to elaborate. She knew what I meant. She inhaled loud and long and looked through her rearview mirror at Ryan, who was thumb wrestling himself, if that was even possible. When she didn’t answer, I pressed harder.

“What you were saying in the kitchen, about not doing Valentine’s Day? That’s a bunch of crap and you know it.”

Once again, she looked in the mirror at Ryan. He stopped murdering his thumbs and was watching us through his small, Harry Potter-like glasses. He had smart eyes, that boy. He knew what we were talking about and he was listening.

“Later,” Connie mouthed. It was a good start. At least she was willing to talk. But I couldn’t wait until later. I needed her to buy Max a present now. Valentine’s Day was tomorrow.

“Want some music?” I said and turned on the radio. Muffled classic rock blared from the speakers. I didn’t even try to find a good station because the static well safeguarded our conversation from the perking little ears of our brother.

I lowered my voice and leaned close to Connie. The seatbelt dug into my shoulder. “I think you’ve got to patch this up. I know Max is your husband but you know what? You’re the wife and I think we both know that when you compare male brains to female brains, we win, one hundred percent. So, in a matter of speaking, you’re the superior one here. Hence, I think you should make the first move.”
My sister didn’t speak, which was often a good sign. It meant she was thinking.
“Why don’t you buy him a Valentine’s Day present?” I concluded and leaned back, thinking my argument was pretty dang good.

Connie’s jaw was clenched. But then she relaxed and she slumped in the seat. “I don’t feel like talking right now, Stacey.”

“Connie . . .” I said, a whine I didn’t like sneaking into my voice.

“Let’s just try to have fun on this trip, okay?” she said loudly so Ryan could hear too. She ran a hand over her front and exaggeratedly concentrated on the road, squinting her eyes and biting her lip.

Ha. I knew that move. It was the, “I can’t talk because I’m too busy driving” excuse. Smart.

Ryan snorted in the back seat.

Well, this was the reason I brought extra money. Just in case Connie was extra stubborn today, I had an entire plan worked out in my head. Like algebra, I thought, smiling faintly to myself. Connie needed to buy a present for Max? No problem. I’d buy it for her. Without her knowing.

So basically, I wanted to make them a party. The problem will be getting them in the same room to exchange their gifts without Connie scratching Max’s eyes out. But whatever. I had a whole day to figure that one out.

As Connie looked for a parking spot, she said absently, “It’s Saturday so it’ll be pretty crowded. Let’s try to stay together, okay?”

“Okay!” I chirped way too cheerily. I wrapped my arms around the nervous churning in my stomach and glanced at Ryan over my shoulder. Made a face that said, “This should be a problem.”

He was shining his glasses on his shirtfront, but he made a face back that said, “Then I’m gonna want more pay.”

It was packed in the store, which was good, because there would be plenty of people to hide me when I finally sneaked away. Connie was muttering under her breath, but every face that I saw simply raised my spirits. These people were going to help me hide from Connie. I felt like a spy, ready to begin a top-secret mission.

When Connie began what looked like would be her long search for a new sweater, I decided I should probably start my search right away. I needed a nice long time, since I had no idea what kind of present to get Max. I knew he liked baseball; he used to play it in high school. And I often went over to his and Connie’s house to watch Nascar races with him. His favorite racer was Jeff Gordon. As I absently skimmed through racks of clothing, I was thinking. He liked Bon Jovi. Perhaps I could get him one of their CDs? The problem was, I didn’t know which ones he already had.

Connie’s back was turned. Okay, time to get going. I gave a miserable Ryan the thumbs up. He sighed and plodded over to Connie, ready to begin his distraction.
But just as I was sneaking away, she turned and said, “Stace, what do you think of this?” She was holding up a cute yellow hoodie. When she saw me sneakily stepping away from the section, she frowned. “Where are you going?”

I was gasping. “Who, me?”

Connie spiked an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?”
“Oh–uh, there’s something here I want to see.”

“That’s the woman’s section,” she said flatly. Connie was very petite and she was stuck in the junior’s section, as was I. It kind of sucked, being sixteen but utterly flat.

“Er–I see something Mom might like. I just want to check it out.” I ducked beneath a rack and scurried away. Ugh. My plan was ruined because Connie was going to be expecting me back soon. Why didn’t Ryan do what he was paid to do?

I went to the card section first. There was a huge aisle, though most of it was empty and a mess. Cards were scattered on the floor and stuffed into the wrong sections. I began searching through the section that said “For my Wife”. There were large cards that were sparkly with glitter. Nice! Sparkles!

I finally found a card so beautiful, I almost wanted to cry. My nose was burning when I slipped out the matching envelope. Hopefully the card would work the same magic on Connie.
When I got the same good find for Connie’s card for Max, a cage of giddy butterflies began to take flight in my stomach. A mix of nerves and excitement. I liked keeping big fat secrets!

Now onto picking up Max’s present. By the jewelry, just like he’d said, there was a large, glass counter shaped like a hollow square. Two old women were leaning on one side of the hollow square, and they jabbered away.
“Excuse me?” I said.

They both snapped their heads up to look at me. One of them looked like a vulture; head jutting forward and white hair astray. The other looked like a frog; bugging eyes that were magnified by large, red-rimmed glasses. (Unbecoming).

Frog Woman smiled at me. “Can I help you?”

Vulture Woman snorted, most likely annoyed that I interrupted their absorbing gossip, and she strutted away to the other side of the hollow square, which was only ten feet away.

“I’m here to pick up an order for Maxwell Fields?”

Frog Woman frowned, then moved to a computer several feet to the left and started clacking away with long shellacked nails. Several seconds later she said, “Ah yes. It arrived yesterday.” She moved gracefully to the other side of the counter. She bent down and started rummaging through boxes and bags piled onto the floor. She came back up holding a brown, cardboard box.
When she opened it up for me to see, I gasped. Inside was a beautiful, glinting silver pendant with a red rose in the middle. The petals looked soft like silk. It was so gorgeous and I just knew that this would fix everything.

“Max, you’ve done it,” I said under my breath.

“That will be one hundred eighty-nine dollars, plus tax.” She smiled, ignoring as I began a choking fit. She was probably used to us unexpecting customers dropping dead by her counter. One hundred and eighty-nine dollars???

I reached into my bag and pulled out my wallet, where I’d stuffed Max’s money. Thank goodness he’d given me enough. Other bills were uprooted in my search and the woman smiled.

“Time for you to spend some money, hon,” she said jokingly.

Laughing half-heartedly at her weak joke attempt, (somehow it seemed less sincere while she stood there like a grinning gargoyle and watched as she sucked me dry) I handed her the payment and asked her if she could wrap it up really nicely. It seemed impossible that such an ugly cardboard box could hold such a beautiful piece of jewelry.

“Okey-dokey,” Frog Woman said, smiling.

I gagged. It so didn’t work when old women tried to act like teenagers.

“Just give me a few minutes.”

But I don’t have a few minutes! I wanted to scream. “Well, I’ll wait,” came out instead. Buggers. I hopped on one foot as the woman turned around and took her own sweet time to pulled out pretty floral wrapping paper.

“Stacey!”

I felt like a rabbit. I froze and my nose twitched, checking for my sister’s scent in the sea of people.

“Stacey!”

Between scores of bobbing heads, I could see Connie walking around the store, clothes draping over one arm. Ryan was following her, biting his bottom lip, looking around for me.

Frog Woman’s back was turned so she didn’t notice when I dropped to the ground and crawled away between hundreds of legs. People looked down at me and smothered giggles. I didn’t care. I had to get away. My knees hurt as I crawled on the hard, tiled floor.

“STACEY!”

I winced and flung myself behind a large rack of books. Breathing heavily, I waited there and scanned the perimeter. I heard her shouting again and, standing poised on my toes, peered around the rack.

Connie was walking down the aisles, looking furious. Ryan was on her tail. As his eyes slowly skimmed his surroundings, he saw me and his mouth formed a comical O. I shot him my most furious stare and waved him away, mouthing, “Distract her!”

Ryan shrugged and began an act that should’ve won an Academy Award. He picked up speed, reached Connie as she strutted quickly through the store, and started tugging at her arm.

“Connie, can I go see the Legos? Pleeease? Please, Connie, pleeease? This is so BORING! I came because I thought we were going to have fun. But this girl stuff is making me SICK!”

My sister turned to him and stared. “Ryan, what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing except that I’m bored to DEATH!”

People had stopped walking and were pointing and giggling at the scene Ryan was making. One woman who pushed a cart that carried two, well-behaved, lollypop-sucking babes, gaped like she thought everyone’s children were as good as her own.
Connie had completely forgotten about me. I was grinning as I watched. She sighed and looked around the store at the amused faces. “I’m really sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to a scowling Ryan. “I don’t know what his problem is!”
“Pleeeease, Connie??? I want to see if they have any Lego Transformer action figures!”

Oh man, I loved that kid.

“FINE! Only if you stop YELLING!” Connie yelled. And they finally left to look at the Legos. She was no longer yelling my name, thank goodness. I slipped out of cover and scuttled across to the desk, where Frog Woman was following my two siblings with wide-eyes. In her hand was a beautifully wrapped package.

“Thank you,” I gasped, taking it and stuffing it into my tote.

“Anything else I can do for you?”


But she was talking to air because I was already on my way. I’d already wasted enough time. I had to get a present from Connie. Fast.
I could hear Ryan still shouting and so I went in the opposite direction. Smart move, bro, letting me know where you are so I don’t go there. I was literally running through the store, to the sports section, and eyeing all around me, checking for any signs of Connie. Stupid of me that I wasn’t looking where I was going, because I ran straight into the arms of a huge business man. He was wearing a pinstripe, tailored suit and a dark blue tie. I stared up at him in horror.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Pinstripe asked me, as if I were five, not sixteen.

My face was probably seven shades of red. Ugh! How could I humiliate myself more? But I held back my embarrassment, smiled at him and stepped back. “I’m running away from aliens,” I said. “They just landed their UFO in the parking lot!” I jabbed a finger in that direction. “And so I have to run.” Which I did.

My legs were just beginning to feel numb when my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw it was Connie. So I slipped it back into my pocket and let it ring.

I FINALLY made it to the sports section. It was such a teeny tiny aisle, I felt a surge of fury. A cute worker with a small triangular goatee was stocking shelves and I stormed up to him and demanded, “Why is this section so freaking tiny?”

He stared at me. But I was way passed embarrassment. I huffed and turned back to the shelves. The aisle was small but it was actually filled to its utmost capacity with soccer balls, helmets, teeth guards, basketball gear, footballs, even shoes for sports.

“I want to see the guns!!!” yelled Ryan.

Oh, he’s so good. My sweet little brother over there and yelling his tonsils out. Really, I . . . guns?

I yelped out loud and ignored as Cute Guy glanced at me. I heard Connie shout, “No! I am NOT your slave! Where’s Stacey? We’re going home. STACEY!”

Cute Guy shook his head to himself as he worked. I smiled at him. “Ain’t it the truth?” I said and he sighed and turned to me, looking pleased to talk to someone.

“I’ve been listening to those two yelling at each other for the past half hour! It’s ludicrous!”

I nodded excessively and then heard Ryan scream for guns again. And Connie complied!! My dear sister, what has gotten into you? Have you lost all your hardheadedness as soon as I didn’t need you to?

I looked around for anything to give to Max. No basketball or hunting. The soccer . . . eh. No. Their shouting grew louder. And then I saw it. At first it didn’t seem true but it was! I gaped up at it. At the top of the shelf was an autographed baseball! I couldn’t read the name from here but Max knew all the players. That was it!

“SHUT UP, RYAN! As soon as we find your sister, we’re going home. STACEY!!”

“Uhm,” I said hesitantly to Cute Guy. “Can you get that for me?”

He shrugged good-naturedly and left his work to assist me. Aww, he was so kind. I shouldn’t have yelled at him.

I turned it over in my hands and looked for a price-tag. Fifteen dollars. Most likely a fake autograph but I had no time to look for anything else. Max didn’t need to know.

“STACEY, GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!”

“What a nag,” Cute Guy muttered as he went back to stocking shelves. “She sounds ready to murder. That Stacey had better watch her back.”

Thanks for the tip, I thought. I saw Ryan running around the corner into my aisle, ahead of Connie. We stood there for a second, staring at each other.

“What now?” I could hear Connie snarl.

I took off down the other way, gripping the baseball tightly. I heard Ryan moan, “There’s a guy stocking shelves in front of the guns!” I laughed, just waiting for him to throw himself on the ground and start kicking his feet.

When I made it to the beeping line of cashiers, I was wheezing and clutching a stitch in my side.

“Ring this up for me,” I said, taking the cards and the baseball and piling them on the conveyor belt. “And hurry!”

The girl looked hardly older than me. She was chewing pink gum. Each time she chomped down on it, there was a smacking sound. As she rang up the ball and the cards, she tried to blow a bubble. It was a good one too.
“Whoa!” I breathed, wishing I were that talented.
And then it popped all over her face.

When she finished peeling the gum off her face and out of her hair, she was nice enough to finish ringing me up.

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, grabbing my purchases and stuffing them deep into my tote. Its sides bulged a little, but I doubted Connie would notice.

And so, having completed my job in the store, I went off in search of my furious sister. I pasted the most innocent expression on my face.

I finally found Connie in the book aisle. Her face both splotchy and red, but quite pale at the same time. She was slightly slumped over. But she looked furious anyway and she no longer held her clothes. Ryan was following her, head wagging back and forth, and still yelling. Though he sounded miserable, I could not mistake the pleasurable expression on his face. I had no doubt he was enjoying himself. This was his meaning of a good time. When I walked up, Connie saw me and glared.

“Stacey,” she said. “Where have you been?”

“I WANT TO SEE THE GOLDFISH!” Ryan yelled.

“Where have you been?” I said, trying to sound concerned and upset. “I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE for you.”

“HOW ABOUT THE WII GAMES? WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING? UGGH! THIS IS SOOOO BORING!!!”

“You’ve been looking for me? I called your phone! Why didn’t you answer?”

I stared at her and put a hand over my chest. “You called me? Gee, Connie. I’m sorry. I must not have heard. This store is very loud, you know.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “Stacey, I am SO telling Mom when we get home. Come on, we’re going.” Without another word, she marched past me.

“Did you buy that pretty sweater?” I asked lightheartedly as I skipped along behind her.

Back home, Connie didn’t end up telling Mom about the incident at the store. But she did start threatening that she wasn’t going to take me anywhere anymore. I stared at my toes and pretended to be ashamed. But inside I was smiling. Connie wouldn’t be able to keep up this charade for long. She had a bad temper but also a soft heart, bless her.

Now I needed to get to Max’s house and give him the pendant. Connie and Mom were talking in low voices on my way out of the house. They were in the kitchen, the door half closed. I needed to pass it to get to my exit and as I did, I was able to catch fragments of their conversation.

Connie’s voice. She sounded distressed and almost on the verge of tears. Wow. What a depression she must be in. “But Mom, he’s never around. He has to know but he never gives me a chance to tell him.”

That stopped me in my tracks. I stood by the door and listened.

“Honey,” I heard Mom say. “He’ll know soon enough. I had this same problem when your father and I were first married. He’d work and work and never have time for me. But things turned around. Don’t worry.”

Then it got silent, as if they knew someone was at the door. I was afraid to move, in case they might hear me. They sounded frighteningly close to the door and Mom had ears like a fox. So I just stood there, afraid to breath, and prayed no one would come out.

Finally they started talking again. I moved very quietly to the front door and then called, “Mom, I’m going out!”

She came to the door. “Where to, honey?”

I hesitated. I guess there was no reason not to tell her where I was going. Max was family, after all. “To Max’s.”

Connie called from the kitchen, “He probably won’t be home.” She sounded sour.

Mom looked in at her and sighed. “Okay, Stacey,” she said, turning back to me. “Be back by seven. We’re eating then.”

“Okey-dokey,” I said. “Lock me out, huh?” I shut the door behind me and hopped down the front steps.



I was surprised when I rode up the drive. His huge truck was parked there, taking up most of the space. He was home. That was rather . . . shocking. I leaned the bike against the railing and used my key to open the door.

“Max!” I called into the house.

He came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. Max was tall and in pretty good shape, if you ask me. He had dark mop of hair and was clean-shaven. His nose was slightly large, Connie’s favorite aspect of his face. She always said that it “helps define his features”. He had large dark eyes that must’ve been beautiful if they weren’t always covered with his hair. Right now, his face was distressed, so distressed that I immediately got worried.


“What happened?”

“Thank goodness you’re here!” He took my wrist and practically dragged me into the kitchen where the dishwasher was open and sloppily loaded.

“How do you start this thing?” Max asked, gesturing to the dishwasher.

I busted up laughing. He was horribly cute, trying so hard to keep the house clean. Even cuter was how messily he loaded the dishwasher.

“Max, you kill me!” I said. He’d wasted most of the space in the dishwasher by practically dropping the dishes and bowls atop the racks. “You can save so much room by just fitting them in the right way. It’s like a puzzle.” I unzipped my coat, threw it over a chair, and deftly arranged the dirty crockery, Max watching intently. I loaded the rest of the dirty cutlery and squeezed some blue Cascade dishwasher detergent into the machine before shutting it and pressing START.

“There,” I said, drying my hands on a towel as the dishwasher sputtered pitifully to life.

“Oh,” he said, looking at the Cascade bottle as if it were some particularly baffling problem that needed working out. “Hmm. Thanks,” he said.

“Oh!” I said. “I got your gift!”

He looked up at me. “Really? Great. What do you think?” It looked to me that he wasn’t just asking that to be polite. It seemed like my opinion really mattered to him, which made me feel touched. So I decided to be really enthusiastic about the present.

“I think it’s just beautiful!” I said enthusiastically. “You picked out the perfect present. She’s going to LOVE it!”

Max smiled.


I pulled the daintily-wrapped present out of my coat and handed it to him.

Max loved the card. Then, without a word, he took a pen, plopped down in a chair, and started writing, head down so low to the table, I thought he might bang his forehead on the surface. Finally, he took both the card and the present and brought it down the dark hall to his room. When he plodded back in, he came over to me and gave me a big, squeezing hug.

“Thanks so much, Stace. When Connie and I have a little girl, I want her to be exactly like you.”

I didn’t answer, because the thought of becoming an aunt was so revolting, I didn’t know how to answer. The thought of babies made me start to think of baby showers and parties. Thinking of parties brought on decorations and then . . .

Decorations!! I completely forget about decorations! What's a party without decorations?

I gasped and Max looked down at me. “What?” he asked, smiling strangely.

“Eh–nothing. I just remembered that I really have to do something at home. So–uh, glad you like that card, Maxy. I hope this all works out for the best.”

He inhaled deeply. “Yeah. Me too. Thanks for picking up the present, Stacey. I really –” It sounded like he was going to say something very kind, but his cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out and sighed. “Another caller.”

I sighed. “Again? Max, you’re exhausting yourself.”

He answered the phone. “Max’s Towing. Can I help you?” There was some frantic talking on the other end and Max looked at me and shrugged in a what can I do? way. Then he whispered, “Sorry, Stacey. I’m the man and I’ve got to work. Thanks again for the present.” He patted my shoulder and then left the room.

I watched him leave and shook my head at his back. “Give yourself a break, Max. Really.”

I dialed home as I mounted my bike. Mom answered in a fake English accent, a running joke between us. I didn’t even know how it started.

“You’ve reached the McAllister residence. To whoooom may I direct your call?” she rolled her R’s on “reached” and “residence” and “direct”.

As I rode, I grinned and answered in a similar accent, “May I speak to Mister Ryan McAllister, madaaam?”

“Most certainly. Please remain on the line and I will go feeetch him.”

I waited and listened to Mom yell for Ryan to come to the phone.

“’Sup?”

I dropped the accent and got right to the point. “Ryan, get all the red and pink paper you can find and bring it to my room . . . along with scissors and tape . . . and yeah! Get some glue and glitter too!”

He sounded miffed. “What am I? Your servant? Get your own crafts!”

“This is for the future welfare of our beloved sister and her husband!”

He groaned over the phone. “Why am I so nice to you?”

I smiled wryly. “You learned from the best. Thanks so much, dude. I won’t forget this.”

“You and everyone else,” he said sourly and hung up.

Paper, scissors, tape, a bottle of glue, and purple glitter were scattered about, obviously having been tossed there by my unenthusiastic brother. But I didn’t mind. I settled myself down in the middle of the mess, took up a scissor, and started snipping away at the red paper. I cut it into long strips. Then a pink piece of paper. Then a red. I spread glue across the pieces and sprinkled sparkly purple glitter. The more sparkles the better! When it dried, I started putting together a paper chain, using the tape to hold the strips down.

I worked without any interruptions for a long time. It was very pleasant work, with only the sound of my scissor against the paper and my breathing to keep me company. Eventually, Ryan came into help and he made this huge 3-demenstional heart that he claimed was a centerpiece for a coffee table or something. He scowled when I cheerfully lavished it with more glitter.

About ten minutes before supper, I left the room to see if Mom needed any help setting the table. Ryan was still working on his stuff and trying to wipe off the purple glitter.

Connie’s door was opened, and I saw her on her back on the bed, reading a thick paperback book. I just about caught the title before she looked up and saw me. Her eyes narrowed and she moved swiftly from the bed and over to the door, which she slammed shut.

I stood there, my nose having been two inches away from being squashed. I had been able to read a couple words of her book, “To Expect” but that was it.

At the dinner table, I tried not to look as tired as I felt. My back was killing me from sitting on the floor for so long. My legs were killing me from my lively sprint through the supermarket.

Connie was leaning back in her chair and didn’t even look tempted by the alluring lasagna. Mom was watching her nervously, as if afraid she’d break down with depression. I sighed at my sister. I knew that she was sad, but that didn’t mean she had to act all juvenile.

Finally, she pushed her plate away. “I’m not feeling well,” she said and indeed, she did look slightly sick. Mom nodded in understanding. We all watched as Connie left the table and went to her room.

I glanced at Dad. His hair and beard were peppered with gray but his face had a surprising lack of wrinkles. Except for smile-lines, which I loved. I blessed each one of them. He seemed to always be smiling, like there was some kind of private joke always playing again and again in his head.

“Er, Dad?” I said, concentrating on my meal. “What are you and Mom going to do for Valentine’s Day tomorrow?”

He looked up at Mom, who smiled at me in a “I appreciate you reminding him” way. Then Dad shrugged.
“We’ll go out to dinner maybe?” I could tell he’d never even thought about it, which was why I detected a question in his tone.

“Yes!” I said. “I think that is exactly what you should do!” Everyone looked at me. Shrugging my shoulders, I said in a softer voice, “I just want you guys to have a good Valentine’s Day, that’s all.” This wasn’t a complete lie. Of course I wanted them to have a nice Valentine’s Day. But that wasn’t the reason I was asking about their plans.

Mom smiled at me, making me feel bad. “Thank you, Stacey.” Then she turned to Dad. “I would love to go out to dinner, Jake. Maybe go to a movie after or something.”

Dad and Mom were smiling at each other like newlyweds. Ryan looked disgusted.

“And take your time,” I said. “Don’t rush and don’t worry about us. Really, really enjoy it.”

Valentine’s Day.

I sat in my room and tried to figure out how to make sure Max was out of the house for a nice long time so I could bring the decorations there. No doubt he’d be working all day, but I had no idea when he might burst in on me while I’m decorating. I had to make sure he was out and would stay out.

“Mom?” I called, practically falling down the stairs. “I’m taking my bike to town. I won’t be long!”

By car, the ride to town might take about five minutes, and so by bike it was doubled. But for me it took even longer; I was going extra slowly because I was looking for a payphone.

After twenty minutes of riding, I found an old-fashioned payphone in the middle of a sort of park. There were frosty trees surrounding it with some benches. A fountain was in the middle but now it was covered with a tarp.

I dismounted the bike and leaned it against a tree. I dug out several coins from my pocket, dropped them into the slot of the payphone, and dialed Max’s cell phone number, glad that I had been smart enough to use a payphone. He’d have recognized my cell phone number any day.

“Max’s Towing. Can I help you?” he said when he picked up.

I took a deep breath, pitched my voice five times higher, made it light and airy, and added an English accent just to be on the safe side. “Hello . . . my car’s engine suddenly went up in flames. I–I don’t know what happened. I was driving and then . . . BOOM!”

“Oh dear,” Max said. “I hope you’re okay.”

“Oh yes, never better. I just need to get somewhere very quickly and I guess my car had other plans. I heard you owned the best tow trucking company in the area and so I thought I’d call you.”

“Of course, ma’am. Where are you?”

I looked around, having not thought about where this desperate lady was. “At a payphone in the middle of a street,” I said, sounding miserable and cold.

“Yes but, where?”

I groaned inwardly. I had to choose someplace far enough away so that it would take Max a nice long time to get there. So I chose a town about forty-five minutes away from Max’s. “Eh, next to the . . . McDonald’s.” Because what town doesn’t have McDonald’s? “My name is Patsy Mullin and I’ll holler when I see your truck. Thank you, bye!” I hung up quickly.

Okay, that ought to get Max out of the house for at least an hour and a half. He’d be looking for a nonexistent Patsy Mullin for at least a half hour. And then he’d have to drive all the way back. That should give me plenty of time to fix up the house.

I leapt on my bike and started peddling as fast as my tired legs would let me. There was still more work to be done. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to do it alone.

I had to search around the house for Ryan before hearing him in his room, moving around behind a shut and locked door. I knocked. “Ryan?” I asked.

“Yeah?” His voice was wary.

I lowered my voice. “I need your help.”

He laughed sourly. “Ha-ha. No-can-do, sister. I am officially retiring from your shenanigans.”

I stomped my foot like a five year-old. “They are not shenanigans. Come on, Ryan. Pleeease? I need your help.”

He groaned loudly. “Stacey!”

“I’ll buy you an ice cream cone,” I bribed, depressing over how my wallet was growing increasingly lighter.

“Time to run away,” Ryan muttered. (Translation: “Of course I’ll help you, dear sister”).


The baskets of our bikes were filled to the brim with paper chains and heart cutouts. Underneath it all, I had hidden Connie’s baseball and card. Mom and Dad were out eating a romantic lunch, so I didn’t worry about us getting caught.

Ryan hid his bike in the bushes and I left mine leaning against the railing like I usually did, just in case Max came home early and saw me in the house. We took armfuls of decorations and lugged them inside.

Unfortunately, the house was just a bit too messy for my liking. I wanted to make the place perfect. Not just because the decorations were going to be in here, but because I wanted Connie to come home to a clean house. It was dusty and obviously hasn’t been vacuumed in a while. Plus there was a slightly musty smell that must’ve come from the windows being closed for days on end. When Connie was living here, she had the windows open almost 24/7 seven, even in the winter time.

I turned to Ryan. “I know you’re going to hate me, but I want to make this house look perfect before we decorate.”

He moaned and his legs crumpled beneath him. He looked like I’d just sentenced him to twenty years in prison. “What?” he said. “It’s not even that messy!”

“I know, but . . .” I sighed, looking around. “I just want it to look good for Connie when she comes back.”

Ryan sighed. “Double scoop.”

“What?”

“A double scoop ice cream cone.”

I glared at him. “Fine! Now, we’ve got to hurry. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Ryan found a radio and we blasted music as we ran around the house, quick as a couple of thieving rats. The songs were upbeat, modern dance that really quickened my pace. I was cleaning, running, dancing, hopping up and down, and swinging my hips to the beat.

By the time a half hour of cleaning had passed, the house was sparkling from ceiling to floor. It was beautiful and even Ryan inhaled with deep satisfaction as he looked upon our work.

“One more thing before we start decorating,” I said, shaking out my hair of dust particles that decided to make their homes in there. “Let’s open the windows for her. Connie would be devastated if she found out they’ve been closed this whole time.”

We went from the bottom floor to top, opening all the windows and even turning on a few fans. As I unlocked and opened all the windows, I was brainstorming about what I could do to get Max and Connie in the same room. I don’t mind admitting that I probably should’ve thought about this earlier.
I created algebra equations in my head, only not having any way to get X alone.
When I reached their bedroom door, I paused, feeling uncomfortable. I felt weird, going in there. However, if I intended for their problems to get patched up, their bedroom is the room I should probably be the most serious about airing out.
There was a large bed with white bedding in the center of the room. Two nightstands sandwiched it. As I opened the window on the left wall of the bedroom, I saw something on Max’s nightstand. It was his favorite picture of Connie that was usually hanging on the wall. It was on the edge of the nightstand, facing the bed. She was grinning in the picture.
She looked pretty when she smiled. I haven’t seen that look on her face very often. Looking at that picture started me thinking . . .

What was wrong with my sister? I knew that she’d been feeling badly: she looked very sick during supper. In the store, she was very pale. I started thinking about her and Mom’s conversation in the kitchen.

“He has to know,” Connie had said. “But he’s never around for me to tell him.”

Max has to know what? I envisioned Connie, moody as ever, not hungry for dinner and having long, absorbing talks with Mom. I envisioned her in the car, putting a hand on her belly. I envisioned her reading that book, “To Expect When” . . .

“YIPE!” I screamed and leapt up nearly three feet. She couldn’t . . . I mean, Connie was . . . pregnant?

Now it all fit together, like a puzzle. Of course! She was bugged because she probably wanted to tell Max about it, but he was too busy, as he always was!

I felt dizzy, like someone bashed above both ears. Me . . . aunt.

Ick.


And then Ryan called from the living room. “Stacey, we’ve been at work for a long time! We’d better start decorating!”

Ryan . . . uncle?

Double ick.

“Eh, er . . .” For a second, I forgot where I was. Oh yeah. I was breaking into my married sister’s house, sneakily cleaning up the mess and making her a party she didn’t even know about. What’s so hard to remember about that? “Right!” I yelled back and hurried out of the room, shaking myself out of my daze.

Ryan was waiting with the sparkly paper chains already in his hands. I remember feeling surprised he didn’t get a rash. I found scotch tape in the kitchen and used it to get the chains on the walls. We had three chains, each one about a seventy-five feet long. The living room was the focal point of our decorating because it was the prettiest in the house. With one chain, we encircled the window above the sofa, letting it drape down below the valance. We wrapped another chain around the railing leading up to the living room, making it look almost like a barbershop’s bar. We cut the last one into two shorter chains and delicately arranged the first one on the stained coffee table in front of the sofas. With the other half, since we ran out of ideas, we lazily draped over the piano that was never played.

Boy or girl? I kept thinking. Connie would want a girl but Max would want a boy. Too bad it can’t be half and half.

Ryan arranged his large, 3-D heart design in the center of the coffee table. I dragged a chair from the kitchen and taped paper hearts from the ceiling using thread from Connie’s sewing box that was in the pantry.

Twins! Maybe she’ll have twins!

When we finally finished, Ryan and I stood back and admired our handiwork. The radio was still blaring but we didn’t even hear it. The room looked beautiful! Pink and red chains were hanging all around the room, creating a romantic aura. (Just what we needed). Not to mention the dangling hearts, spinning softly in the cross-breeze from the open windows.


Nearly having forgotten about Connie’s present, I took the baseball and card and neatly arranged them on the coffee table, smiling while Ryan admired the most-likely-fake autograph on the ball’s front.

Then I sighed contentedly and fell back on the couch. “Wow,” I said. “Hard work, huh?”

Ryan didn’t answer. He was biting his lip nervously.

“What?” I asked him.

“How are we going to get Max and Connie in here . . . at the same time?”

Ugh. I had been so preoccupied thinking about Connie, I had completely forgotten about that. I drew my legs up beneath my chin for the longest time, wracking my brain, and feeling cold.

“Stacey, he’ll be back soon?” Ryan prompted and I held out a hand.

“Hold it,” I said. “I’m thinking.”

He moaned, “Why couldn’t you have thought of this before?”

Equations! Equations! Translate the problem into an equation: then solve. Okay. Deep breaths. I could figure this out.

But then I heard a car pulling into the driveway.

Ryan and I whirled around.

“He’s here,” Ryan whispered. “You know yet?”

My expression mirrored his. Worried. “No,” I whispered back.

Ryan raked his face with his hands. I could see such bitter disappointment in his eyes and it hurt me. I was just waiting for him to say, “I had such faith in you!”

“STACEY!” He moaned.

“Okay, okay,” I stammered, running a hand through my hair. “We can’t let him come in here without Connie. I’ll go out and do . . . something. Ryan, wait in here for me . . . you know what? Hide somewhere because I might not be able to keep Max out. Just–just hide somewhere until I come back in.”

He looked wary and hesitant, but nodded and started toward his hiding place. Then he turned. “How are you going to get them together?” he shrilled.

“Just get to your hiding spot,” I said, not answering his question because, frankly, I had no idea how. “And do what I said.” Then I took a deep breath and stepped outside, where Max was getting out of his car.

Max slammed the door of his truck, looking deeply irritated. I felt slightly bad that I was the reason. No doubt he discovered that Patsy Mullin’s car did not go up in flames, but that Patsy Mullin didn’t exist, period.

Find X, find X, I was chanting as I walked slowly down the steps.

Max saw me coming down his steps and he said, “Hi, Stacey. What are you doing here?” He locked the truck with a press of a button on his keychain.

“Looking for you,” I said, walking slowly down the icy steps. Biding my time. X, X, what’s X? What can I do? What can I say? “I just decided to drop by but when I saw you weren’t home, I–” but my sentence was cut off as I slipped on the icy step. My foot twisted and I fell down the stairs. I stopped at the bottom of the steps with an “OOOMPH!” Ouch. It hurt. My ankle was twisted at an odd angle beneath me. But I didn’t think it was broken.

“Are you okay?” Max cried, coming up and kneeling next to me, worry creasing his face.

I was about to tell him, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t sweat about it.”
But then I found X.

“OOOWWWOUCH!”

“Stacey! Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” I gasped and gritted my teeth to suppress screaming. (Seriously, I never thought I was this good an actress). “No, I’m not . . .” I said again and held back a yell. “My ankle hurts s-so bad!” This I knew, wouldn’t create the panic I was hoping for. So, I exaggerated just a bit. “My leg’s on fire. And my back! I feel like my spine is twisted and . . .”

“Can you walk?” he stared at me, looking up and down my body. “I’ll help you inside.”

“NO!” I yelled. He blinked in surprise. “Sorry. I just felt a knife going up my leg. And back. And neck. OOOH,” I moaned. “No, I can’t walk.”

“How do you know? We have to try to get you inside. It’s cold out here.” He took my right arm and awkwardly pulled me to my feet. “Put pressure on the ankle that hurts. But gently.”

I did what he said. “OOOWWW–OUCH!” I shrieked and dropped back to the stairs. My butt hurt from all this falling. “I can’t walk, can’t even put pressure on that foot. And my back is killing me! I must’ve broken something back there!” A few actual tears started leaking out of my eyes. I thought smugly, See, I can act just as well as Ryan. I pretended to be angry at my tears and I wiped them away with an arm. “I’m sorry. It just . . . hurts so bad!”

Then Max’s cell phone buzzed.
Oh, crap. I suppressed rolling my eyes, and just waited for him to abandon me, injured and cold, on this icy sidewalk.
He looked at where his cell was stuffed into his coat pocket. Then took it out.

I was about to start yelling at him. It was true. He cared more about his job for Connie and now me.

With an angry shake of the head, Max disconnected the partying line. The ringer shut off and he stuffed the cell back into his coat pocket. I was sure he saw me gaping.

“Thank you,” I gasped.

He shrugged and said we should make sure nothing was broken by moving several parts of my body. Yeah, Max. That’s a perfect way to just aggravate whatever broken bones I pretended to have. But I didn’t say anything as he made me roll my neck–I gasped–windmill my arms–I moaned–and bend my back. When I arched it, I yelled loudly.

Max panicked. “I’ll go get the doctor!” he said.

“NO!” Now I panicked. “I hate doctors. Their needles hurt,” I said, forgetting to be in mortal pain. “I need someone at my house. Go get whoever is at my house.”

A dark, knowing light filled Max’s usually so friendly eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously.

Ugh. Too transparent. I screamed again. “Pleeease! Get my mom! If she’s not at the house, get whoever is. I need he-he-help from familiar faces!”

He seemed to have forgotten his suspicion. “Okay,” he said and hurried to his truck. Then he turned and looked over his shoulder. “I really should get you inside. It’s cold out here.”

Now I was starting to get irritated at his dang goodness. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I can’t.”

But instead of leaving like he should’ve, he strode over and scooped me up like I was nothing but a rag doll. I yelped and said, “Ouch! That really hurts! Let go!”

“Don’t be a baby. Let me just get you inside.”

I pushed myself out of his arms and collapsed onto the sidewalk again. Okay, now my back really did hurt. I glared up at him. “You wanna kill me or something? Just get whoever is at my house. I’ll wait here.”

Max pondered this for a second, and then took his coat off and wrapped it around me. “To keep you warm till I get back.” Then he leapt into his truck and sped off, leaving in his wake a huge cloud of exhaust that hung in the frigid air like a dead thing.

I scowled at his retreating vehicle. Wow, he was so good, but it was really annoying. Holding the coat under my arm, I scurried back up the steps and into the house.

“Ryan!” I said.

He poked his head out from behind the piano. “What was all that racket out there?” he hissed.

“That was me,” I said, hanging up Max’s coat. “I got Max out of here. He’s going to our house to bring Connie here because I’m mortally injured.”

Ryan was staring at me as I shut the closet door. “Stacey,” he said warily. “Did you trick Max?”

I flew a hand to my chest. “Me trick Max? Never! How could think I’m that sneaky? Do you have that little trust in me?

“Less,” he said, glaring. “I can’t believe you would do that, Stacey!”

“Hey, there’s a saying, Ryan. Maybe you’ve heard of it. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ Just wait and see, bro. They’ll be on their knees thanking me by tonight. Just wait.”
We slipped on our coats and scurried out the door. I dragged my bike into the bushes alongside Ryan’s. Then, in wordless agreement, in we went. It was cold. Kind of really cold. I blew into my hands and pressed them to the sides of my face.

“Let’s just go,” Ryan was moaning.

And as if on cue, I heard the engine of Max’s truck. It drove up and I could see through the blackened windows that Max was looking all over for me, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, as if I might be sneaking up behind them.
And Connie was sitting in the passenger’s seat, looking worried enough, I guess. But mostly she kept her eyes down and certainly did not make eye contact with Max.

He was getting out of the driver’s side, looking around frantically. He leaned back into the truck and said to Connie, “She’s not here.”

Suspicion flickered over my sister’s eyes. But it looked like she doubted Max more than me. Like he was the trickster and I wasn’t. “Are you sure?” she said, unbuckling and getting out of the truck.

Max gestured around at the empty lot and then ran he hand through his hair. “I should’ve taken her inside,” said Max, sounding so terribly guilty, I wanted to go give him a huge hug and assure him I was alright.

“She’s probably in the house,” Connie said. She gracefully started up the steps.

“Be careful! It’s –” Max began, but when Connie put a foot on the icy stairs, her feet slipped out from underneath her and she fell back, gasping.

Instinctively, I started to leap out of the bushes to catch her. The first thought that flashed through my mind was, She’s going to hurt herself! And the second was, The baby! But Ryan grabbed my hand to stop my heroic rescue, because Max stepped up and caught her. Not very romantically at all. He kind of gripped her upper arms awkwardly and her head slammed against his shoulder. It actually looked more painful than helpful.

“Slippery,” he finished, laughing nervously.

She flew out of his grasp and began running her hands over her belly, not inconspicuously at all. “Oh my gosh!” she cried.

Max looked as if he’d been bitten by something poisonous. “What is it?” he said.

Connie looked at him as guilty as a puppy who’d eaten up your shoes. “Um, nothing. Let’s go . . . see if Stacey is inside.”

Behind me, Ryan whispered, “My glasses.” I tensed and slowly turned, so as not to disturb the branches and give away our position. His glasses were being half lifted off his face by a branch and if he moved, he’d rustle the bushes.

I mouthed, “One sec,” and he nodded ever so slightly.
Max jingled his keys as he tried to open the door. He turned the key and shoved against the door. It didn’t open. He’d locked it.

“Huh,” he said, thoughtfully. Buggers. We’d forgotten to lock the door behind us. He’d locked it, not unlocked it. After another turn of the key, he opened the door. “She must be in here. The door was unlocked.” They both went inside, keeping a very disappointing amount of space between them.

“Okayokay,” I whispered to Ryan. The branch, poking up his glasses, was frighteningly close to his right eye. He exhaled and fumbled to fix them. Then we both got up off our feet and peeked up through the open window.

Max was fingering the red and pink chain around the railing. He glanced at Connie, who was slightly bent over, but she glanced back at him. Hmm. A good start. At least they were making eye contact.

Max followed the chain up the stairs. It was a little harder to see him here. I could mostly see his head and up his nostrils. (Not pretty.)

“Max?” Connie said, slowly going up the stairs after him. (She had less nose hair than Max.) And then she saw our beautiful decorations. She looked at her husband, all spooked-like. “Max, did you do this?”

Max stared at her. “No! I didn’t . . .” His eyes narrowed. “Stacey,” he said and looked toward the window, as if knowing I was there. I ducked down quickly and pulled Ryan with me.

“Why am I not surprised?” Connie was saying, sounding irritated. We peeked back up. Despite what she said, I saw a smile tugging at the corners of my sister’s mouth.

But Max didn’t seem to even remember I existed (insulting), because he was watching Connie and looked completely distressed. “Connie . . . I,” he began and looked around the red and pink room.

I felt Ryan tense behind me. With his sweaty hand, he grabbed mine and made me cross my fingers. Oh. Good idea.

“I . . . have something to give you,” he said, his voice so quiet I could scarcely hear it. I wanted to leap up and cheer! I wanted to wave banners and throw confetti! I loved my brother in law to death!

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and left the room, down the hallway to the bedroom where he must’ve hidden the present. Connie watched him, looking fondly at his back but also seemed slightly unconvinced, like she’s experienced this kind of thing before and it hadn’t gone well.

Ryan and I exchanged excited glances. I wanted to scream at him, “WE DID IT!” But we were still undercover spies and could not be found out.

Several seconds later, Max came out of his room holding the nicely-wrapped present and the card. Unfortunately, this far below and in perfect nose-hair-viewing-position, this wasn’t the best place to sit. I lost much of the romantic aura sitting in the wet grass with branches poking at me as if I were some kind of personal enemy.

Connie stared at the present as if it were some kind of ticking bomb.

“Take it,” Max had to urge her.

She picked it up between two fingers. Then she looked at Max in a way that seemed that she couldn’t believe he had given her a present. It was actually kind of sad that it was such a shock. A present? You’re giving ME a present???

“You got this?” she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” Max said defensively, as if he understood her surprise and felt bad about it.

“And you had time to pick it up?” She squinted at him, sounded skeptical.

“Uh,” he said, but Connie had already started opening it.

“Oh, Max!” she gasped as she took the pendant out and handed the cardboard box to him. “This is beautiful!” She stroked the front gently.

But he was too busy to answer, because he was picking the price sticker off the ugly cardboard box.

“Thank you,” Connie said, sounding like she was about to cry. Her voice was all choked up, like. She put a hand to her belly.

It was as if something clicked in my little brother’s mind, because I heard Ryan whisper, “No. Way.”

Well, it looked like he figured it out as well. I turned to him and grinned. “Uncle.”

He was pale and staring at our sister. He nodded rather absently. I realized he didn’t hear what I said because if he did, he’d be scowling.

When I looked back through the window, Connie was reading the card, with tears threatening to pour down her cheeks and Max was fastening the necklace around her neck. “Max,” Connie said. “I’m sorry. Very sorry.”

Max put an arm around her shoulders, completely at ease. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Connie leaned against his shoulder and they both sank to the couch in unison. Forehead to forehead. “Unfortunately, my present to you will be a bit postponed.”

No, stupid, I thought. Look on the coffee table. There’s your gift.

“Oh,” Max said, shrugging, and forcing her head up in the process. “I have all I want.”

Now a sly grin passed over Connie’s face. “Oh, honey? I’m not so sure about that.”

Ryan gripped my arm and when I looked at him, I was afraid he would faint. He was all pale and wide-eyed. “He doesn’t know?” he whispered and I shook my head grinning.

“But he’s about to,” I said. “And we’re going to be here to watch.”

Max looked half-skeptical, half-amused, half-spooked. Er . . . wait–you know what, forget it.

“What do you mean?” he asked, holding her hand tightly in his.

“Well,” said Connie. “I don’t know how to tell you this. I tried to the night of that argument. But you were too . . . busy.” I could see her jaw clench.

Max looked slightly offended and he let go of her hand. I winced, anticipating another argument. Great. Connie, you didn’t have to say that, did you?
“Connie, you don’t understand how much work it is providing for the two of us . . .”

But Connie cut him off. But not with a snarky comeback like I’d been expecting. No. She was smiling wistfully. “The two of us?”

Max looked to the left and the right. “Uh, yeah? You and me. Connie, are you okay?” He put a hand to her forehead, concern clouding his eyes. “You’re a little warm.”

Connie pushed his hand away, looking exasperated. She sighed loudly. “Max, what I was going to tell you that night was that I am going to have a baby.” She said this so matter-of-factly, it sounded almost weird. I guess she was tired of beating around the bush. The end of her sentence was drowned out because Max had swooped her off her feet and was spinning her around the room. Her feet caught on one of the paper chains and it flew in a wide arc behind her. Like a kite tail.

“Max!” she cried and beat his shoulders with her fists.

Max was laughing, literal belly-laughs. He kept spinning around the room. “Connie, Connie, Connie!” he kept saying, over and over.

“Yes, yes, yes?” Connie said back, trying to sound annoyed. But she was grinning. Finally, she stopped punching him and relaxed in his arms.

Max finally set her down. He stared at her face, which was flushed and as pink as a little girl seeing her first princess birthday party.
And then, just as I was beginning to think they were going to stare into each other’s eyes for eternity, Max said, “I am so sorry, Connie, that I didn’t give you a chance to tell me.”

Connie didn’t say anything, just smiled. And then Max practically lunged for her mouth, which startled me and most likely Connie too, if she hadn’t lunged at the exact same second.

Ryan started making gagging sounds. I looked away, grinning. It wasn’t really disgusting. I’d seen them kiss before. But at this particular moment, it felt like I was intruding upon private business, watching them. (Ha. Yeah. And I would never intrude.)

After a few seconds, I pinched Ryan’s arm and he looked at me, eyes red and glassy. Aw, the boy had a softer heart than I’d thought. “Let’s go home,” I said. “I’m craving some chocolate.”

We wrestled our bikes out of the bushes, which was impossible to do and be quiet at the same time. As we were mounting our bikes, the front door opened behind us and I heard Connie call, “Guys!”

I winced and hunched my shoulders like a thief caught red-handed. I considered just riding away. But she didn’t sound mad. And so I turned. She was standing there, holding her belly. We locked eyes and she whispered, “Thank you.”

I was about to say something touching and end-of-the-movie-ish when Max appeared at the door, his arm immediately attaching to Connie’s waist like there was a magnetic attraction.

“Hey!” he said, pointing at me. “I thought you were hurt!”

I ducked my head. “Ha-ha. Oops! Wasn’t as bad as I thought. Silly me.”

Max looked like he was about to come down and confront me about my charade. Why on earth would you fool me like that?

But I started peddling as fast as I could. “Come on, Ryan,” I said in a sing-song voice. “Bye, guys!” I called over my shoulder and took off like a bolt of lightning.

Ryan and I rode in a companionable silence for a while, both absorbed in our own thoughts. They’re going to find my baseball on the coffee table later. I’ll have to take it back.

Then Ryan looked at me with a fond smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Stacey.”

I laughed, my hair streaming in the cold wind. It nipped at my ears with sharp, icy needles, but I didn’t care. Ha. Who knew? It was pretty happy at that.




THE END