Blue Dahlia

with?”
    “Mmm-hmm.”
    “She said how she thought we were sisters because you give me grief like she does her baby sister. At the time, I thought that was nice. Now, it’s irritating.”
    “That’s a shame.”
    “I’m taking care of myself.”
    “Yes, and so am I.”
    Hayley sighed. “If it’s not you giving me the hairy eye, it’s Roz. Next thing, people’ll start thinking she’s my mama.”
    Stella glanced down to see Hayley slip her feet out of her shoes. “Feet hurt?”
    “They’re all right.”
    “I’ve got this wonderful foot gel. Why don’t you use it when we get home, and put your feet up for a few minutes ?”
    “I can’t hardly reach them anymore. I feel ...”
    “Fat and clumsy and sluggish,” Stella finished.
    “And stupid and bitchy.” She pushed back her damp bangs, thought about whacking them off. Thought about whacking all her hair off. “And hot and nasty.”
    When Stella reached over, bumped up the air-conditioning, Hayley’s eyes began to sting with remorse and misery. “You’re being so sweet to me—everyone is—and I don’t even appreciate it. And I just feel like I’ve been pregnant my whole life and I’m going to stay pregnant forever.”
    “I can promise you won’t.”
    “And I ... Stella, when they showed that video at birthing class and we watched that woman go through it? I don’t see how I can do that. I just don’t think I can.”
    “I’ll be there with you. You’ll be just fine, Hayley. I’m not going to tell you it won’t be hard, but it’s going to be exciting, too. Thrilling.”
    She turned into the drive. And there were her boys, racing around the yard with the dog and Harper in what seemed to be a very informal game of Wiffle ball.
    “And so worth it,” she told her. “The minute you hold your baby in your arms, you’ll know.”
    “I just can’t imagine being a mama. Before, I could, but now that it’s getting closer, I just can’t.”
    “Of course you can’t. Nobody can really imagine a miracle. You’re allowed to be nervous. You’re supposed to be.”
    “Then I’m doing a good job.”
    When she parked, the boys ran over. “Mom, Mom! We’re playing Wiffle Olympics, and I hit the ball a million times.”
    “A million?” She widened her eyes at Luke as she climbed out. “That must be a record.”
    “Come on and play, Mom.” Gavin grabbed her hand as Parker leaped up to paw at her legs. “Please!”
    “All right, but I don’t think I can hit the ball a million times.”
    Harper skirted the car to get to Hayley’s side. His hair curled damply from under his ball cap, and his shirt showed stains from grass and dirt. “Need some help?”
    She couldn’t get her feet back in her shoes. They felt hot and swollen and no longer hers. Cranky tears flooded her throat. “I’m pregnant,” she snapped, “not handicapped.”
    She left her shoes on the mat as she struggled out. Before she could stop herself, she slapped at Harper’s offered hand. “Just leave me be, will you?”
    “Sorry.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
    “I can’t breathe with everybody hovering around me night and day.” She marched toward the house, trying hard not to waddle.
    “She’s just tired, Harper.” Whether it was hovering or not, Stella watched Hayley until she’d gotten inside. “Tired and out of sorts. It’s just being pregnant.”
    “Maybe she shouldn’t be working right now.”
    “If I suggested that, she’d explode. Working keeps her mind busy. We’re all keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t overdo, which is part of the problem. She feels a little surrounded, I imagine.”
    “Mom!”
    She held up a hand to her impatient boys. “She’d have snapped at anybody who offered her a hand just then. It wasn’t personal.”
    “Sure. Well, I’ve got to go clean up.” He turned back to the boys, who were already squabbling over the plastic bat. “Later. And next time I’m taking you both down.”
     
    THE AFTERNOON WAS SULTRY, A SLY HINT OF THE summer that waited just around the corner. Even with the air-conditioning, Stella sweltered in her little office. As a surrender to the weather, she wore a tank top and thin cotton pants. She’d given up on her hair and had bundled it as best she could on top of her head.
    She’d just finished outlining the next week’s work schedule and was about to update one of her spreadsheets when someone knocked on her door.
    “Come in.” Automatically, she reached for