Fed up

from the couch with the camera focused on the two women. If my fears were realized, here was another segment that would have to be edited out. Alternatively, maybe Robin could replace the audio throughout the tape with music, thus obliterating forecasts of marital doom.
    “Chloe?” Adrianna handed me a cup of tea. “Who are those girls over there?”
    “Oh. Um, well...” I faltered. “That’s Gretchen and Julie. You remember them, don’t you?” Raising my cup of tea and taking a sip, I tried to act as casual as possible. In other words, I tried to avoid having Ade realize that she had never even seen either of them before. “They were so happy to hear about your wedding and the baby that I just had to invite them.”
    “Uh-huh.” Ade looked at me doubtfully.
    “Come on! Let’s open presents.”
    I signaled to my mother, who joyously clapped her hands and addressed the entire group. “Everyone? Let’s all gather over here while our guest of honor opens her gifts.”
    The older women sat on the couches, while most of the younger women seated themselves on the floor around the coffee table. I reserved a big, soft, upholstered chair for Adrianna.
    “I’m never going to get out of this seat,” Ade said as she sank into the deep pillows.
    “Open this one first,” I ordered, handing her my present.
    Adrianna unwrapped my gift and looked totally boggled.
    “It’s a BabyBjörn,” I had to explain. “You strap the baby to your body and voilà! Hands-free! Like a backpack for your front. I got the leather one so you’d be the most fashionable mommy out there.”
    “This is so cool!” Ade beamed happily. “I really think I’m going to like this. I’m still learning about all this baby stuff. I’ve never even heard of this.”
    Next she opened a box packed full of small baby items, gifts from my sister, Heather, who said, “I know these might not look exciting, but they’re all things you’ll use. See? Teethers, rattles, baby blankets, bottle brushes, onesies, wipes. Seems boring, but they’ll be useful.” My niece, Lucy, was one, and my nephew, Walker, was five. Heather prided herself on having nearly every conceivable baby and child gadget ever invented.
    “Wow, Heather. This is amazing.” Ade rooted through the gift box, her eyes wide with interest at all these never-before-seen infant supplies. “This is so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
    Adrianna had never been one to fawn over babies—worse, she’d actually seemed to dislike children—and her surprise pregnancy had thrown her for a good loop. Early on, I’d given her some books about pregnancy and about baby care, but I was far from sure that she’d read them. Owen was the one who’d hurled himself into stocking up on kid paraphernalia. Only as Ade opened the baby presents with little apparent recognition of everyday baby items did I understand how hard it was for her to come to terms with the prospect of motherhood. The gifts were, I thought, giving her the boost that she needed to get through to the end of her pregnancy; the fun stuff was a better choice than my books had been. Remarkably, Adrianna even looked interested in Naomi’s aromatherapy oils and in the big inflatable ball that Ade was supposed to sit on during major contraction time. Cousin Phoebe and Nana Sally jointly gave Ade a Baby Jogger stroller that looked as if it could be propelled over rock-strewn mountains without jostling the child, and Gretchen and Julie from my school were generous enough to give a stranger three adorable unisex baby outfits. Shy Isabelle and Blythe the waitress had put together a collection of board books for babies that would endure hours of the kid gumming and chewing the hard pages.
    I handed Ade the gift from Owen’s mother. Unwrapped, the package turned out to contain a voluminous white cotton nightgown with a high ruffled neck. Staring at this chaste garment, I realized that it should have had a prominent monogram that read Not Adrianna. Ade shot me a look out of the corner of her eye, and I refrained from laughing out loud.
    “This is lovely, Eileen. Thank you.” Ade spoke politely.
    “Isn’t it?” Eileen said cooly. “You can think of me every time you wear it.”
    “Yeah, every time I return to the convent,” Ade muttered in my ear as she noisily scrunched up the wrapping paper.
    Adrianna had seen what I’d missed: the nightgown was suitable for a nun and must have been chosen to keep Owen as far away from Adrianna