“You can find something else to help you get by, can’t you?” Aunt Millie responded. “You won’t need much if you’re living here.”
Delaney caught the not-so-subtle hint, but didn’t have the energy to comment on it or even worry about it. She had bigger things on her mind—like buying groceries and feeding her baby. “Dundee doesn’t exactly have a booming economy.”
“So, what will you do?” Aunt Millie asked, her voice starting to reflect Delaney’s worry.
“I’ll come up with something,” Delaney said as calmly as possible. She couldn’t deal with the prospect of Aunt Millie getting upset; she was too upset herself.
“I know you will. You’re a mature, responsible person. Good things come to good people, Laney. I’ve always told you that.”
Guilt assaulted Delaney, stabbing her right in the heart. She lied to Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph every time she saw them by pretending nothing had changed. She’d never felt like such a fraud, and was finding it increasingly difficult to get through the day without blurting out her secret for everyone to hear—for better or worse. Especially when Aunt Millie started describing her as a saint.
“I’m too old to be living at home,” she said suddenly.
“What, dear?”
“I said I’m too old to be living at home. I want to take care of myself. I’m going to take care of myself.”
“I wasn’t trying to steal your independence, Laney. I only thought—”
“I know what you thought. And it’s sweet and wonderful and I appreciate it. But I just can’t do it.”
Silence.
Delaney closed her eyes, knowing this wasn’t going well. But she was still reeling from the news about her job and didn’t know how to improve her methods. Those stupid role-playing things never panned out the way she envisioned. She wasn’t supposed to lose her job, for one thing.
“You and Uncle Ralph have a nice routine worked out and lots of peace and quiet, which you need at your age. I’m not going to disturb all that.”
“You wouldn’t disturb us, Laney. We want you here. Goodness knows how lonely it can get….”
Oh God, now the guilt. “Aunt Millie…”
The edge in her voice checked the flow of Millie’s words. “What?”
Delaney sank into a kitchen chair, put her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to move back home. I like being on my own.”
Another silence. Then Millie said, “But you need to be sensible, Laney. You’ve lost your job.”
“Not exactly, and it’s only for three months.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll figure it out. I’m thirty, Aunt Millie, not eighteen.”
“You’re sounding more and more like that friend of yours.” Aunt Millie always referred to Rebecca as “that friend of yours.”
“That friend of mine is getting married and moving out. There’s no point in bringing her into this.”
“I’ve never liked the fact that you two have been so close. She’s not a good influence.”
Delaney hated the split loyalty she felt whenever Aunt Millie spoke of Rebecca. She loved them both, but they didn’t care for each other. “I don’t want to talk about Rebecca.”
“Anyone who dyes her hair that ungodly purplish color—”
“It’s a dark shade of auburn,” Delaney corrected.
“—is no kind of lady. I, for one, will be glad when she’s gone.”
Delaney felt exactly the opposite, but she didn’t answer. She was too busy staring down at her notice from the city, wondering why they were talking about purple hair when she didn’t know how she was going to buy diapers thirty-five weeks from now. She was barely making a living as it was. If she fell behind while she was pregnant…
“Poor Mayor Wells has sure had his hands full with her,” Aunt Millie was saying.
“What’s she ever done to you?” Delaney finally blurted, her irritation getting the best of her.
“Nothing.”
“Then, what do you have against her?”
“You mean besides the time she ran away with that biker? She stayed in his room at the hotel for three nights before they left. And they weren’t even engaged.”
Delaney squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about Millie’s reaction once she learned the truth: I don’t know why I ever took her in. I should’ve known, what with her mother and all….
“People make mistakes, Aunt Millie. I don’t think they set out to make bad choices, it’s just—” she hesitated “—it’s just that they’re…trying to fill the holes inside them. You know?”
“What are you talking about—holes? You’re not yourself. What’s wrong with you?”
Delaney shoved a hand through her hair and let her breath seep out in a long sigh. “I have something I need to tell you,” she said. “But I need to do it in person.”
THE TICKING OF THE CLOCK sounded abnormally loud as Delaney sat in Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph’s kitchen, waiting for Ralph to return from the hardware store. He’d been gone when she arrived. Aunt Millie was there, though. She sat across from her, drinking tea; Delaney’s own cup stood untouched on the table at her elbow.
“Are you sick?” Aunt Millie asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“No.” Delaney glanced down at the dark tea in her cup, then out the front window at the gently falling snow. She felt her stomach tense when she saw Ralph’s big Cadillac turn the corner and make its way up the slippery street.
“There he is,” Aunt Millie said.
“Yeah.” That single word was all Delaney could muster. She was wondering how to tell the people who’d raised her, good churchgoing, law-abiding folk, that she was having a child out of wedlock, knowing it would humiliate and embarrass them in front of all their friends. Delaney would never run off like that flighty Rebecca, they’d always brag. Delaney’s such a good girl…. How Delaney could’ve had a mother like that, I’ll never know….
Delaney swallowed a sigh. Breaking the news was just the beginning. She’d also have to explain how it had happened. Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph knew she hadn’t been dating anyone—at least, not steadily—which certainly wouldn’t reflect well on her when she announced that she was having a baby.