Chapter 14
Now to get ready for her date with Edie.
And, really, it wasa date, or would be by the time they finished. There wasn’t any one thing that made Joanne stand up and take notice of the woman when she first entered Michael’s home. She was pretty in a plain sort of way, as if she didn’t quite know what she had to work with—her blonde hair was cut a bit too bluntly, the style slightly out of date, and she wore no makeup, not even mascara or lip liner, nothing to play up her natural beauty. Her clothing had been utilitarian, a work uniform with no thought given to fashion. But there had been something in the way she carried herself, a sureness, a confidence, that made her more appealing to Joanne than if she’d been dressed in a high-power suit, made up like a movie star, hair styled and sleek.
The invitation to lunch started innocently enough. Joanne really was interested in having a contractor she could refer to her clients if they asked for someone, and what better way to get to know each other than over lunch? But she could tell from Edie’s flustered response that her suggestion was taken as something more.
And, well, sure, the thought hadcrossed her mind.
When Edie didn’t backpedal or say hold up, wait a minute, Joanne knew her instincts had been right. She’d heard people claim there was no such thing as gaydar, but sometimes Joanne got a certain feeling about a person, and though there wasn’t anything overt Edie had said or done to make her think it, Joanne had felt it anyway. Whatever hearts were made of, theirs were the same.
With any luck, their lunch date wouldn’t be strictly business.
* * * *
By the time Joanne got out of the shower, she had a text from Edie waiting for her. How about the Bistro at 12:30?
Great!Joanne texted back. CU there!
The Bistro sounded like a posh little place downtown but wasn’t. It was a family-owned deli not far from Joanne’s office building, actually, and she stopped there for a cheesesteak or hoagie at least once a week. The lunch specials were reasonably priced and the service was quick, and the Lebanese owners made a damn good baklava.
As she was pulling into the Bistro’s small parking lot, Joanne’s phone pinged. She didn’t see Edie’s truck, but she wasa few minutes early. Was Edie bailing on her? Sorry, change of plans.Joanne could almost see the text in her mind’s eye, and she pulled up the hand brake but didn’t turn off the car’s engine as she dug her phone out of her purse. “And here I thought she might’ve liked me,” Joanne muttered as she unlocked her phone.
The text wasn’t from Edie, or Miranda, for that matter. It was from her brother—Michael couldtext, but didn’t, or only rarely bothered. When he did, it was usually a mass announcement, as this must have been, because almost instantly, Joanne got another text, this one from her mother, and a third, from Shelly’s brother in California. Ignoring them, she tapped Michael’s to read it.
Babies are here! Two healthy girls, Michelle and Marie, no C-section needed after all. Born at 12:02 and 12:05 this aft. Twins and mom doing fine. Will call when I can. Jo, plz pick up the kids from school and bring them by, thx!
More texts came in—other relatives sending their congratulations. Quickly Joanne sent a message, too, confirming she’d get Ava and Mikey and stop by the hospital when school let out. That would give Shelly and the newborns some time to recovery, and Joanne time to get to know Edie…
Suddenly there was a tap on Joanne’s window. She glanced up and saw Edie standing by the side of her car. With an awkward grin, Edie gave her a slight wave and stepped back as Joanne opened the door. “Sorry I’m a bit late.”
“No, don’t be,” Joanne said. “Michael just told me Shelly delivered. Girls, both healthy.”
Edie’s smile brightened. “Oh, that’s good!”
Joanne rolled her eyes. “If you like kids, which I don’t. I mean, not really. I’m not into the whole mother thing. It just isn’t me. And now he’s gone from two to four in a matter of minutes. They must be crazy, if you ask me.”
“You were good with the others earlier,” Edie pointed out, leading the way to the Bistro’s front door. She held it open for Joanne, who thanked her and stepped inside. “They seemed to like you.”
“They have to like me,” Joanne said. “I’m the only aunt they have. No, don’t get me wrong, they’re great kids. But really, what I like best about them is that they aren’t mine.”
Together they found a corner booth, and Joanne slid across the seat to snag a menu tucked behind the napkin dispenser. As she looked it over, she glanced up at Edie. “What about you?” she asked. “Any kids of your own?”
Edie looked taken aback. “What, me? No.” She laughed and tugged at her ponytail, an obviously nervous habit Joanne found endearing. “Women like me usually don’t end up having children.”
Setting aside the menu, Joanne reached across the table to lay a hand over Edie’s. “You mean women like us,” she murmured.