Age Before Beauty (8 page)

Standing upright, he handed Joanie back to Allie and then circled the desk to sit in his chair. He picked up the folder he’d tossed down, opened it, and flipped through the pages inside. “Your baby is just under six weeks old, and you’ve had her in this office three times in addition to her two-week checkup. Once for spitting up. Once for loose stools. And once because you thought her sternum protruded abnormally.”

Allie touched the bump in the middle of Joanie’s chest and mumbled, “It looked weird to me.”

“In addition,” the doctor continued, “you’ve called the office five times with a variety of complaints including peeling skin, irregular breathing, thinning hair, crying, and a case of gas at two in the morning.”

Tears prickled Allie’s eyes. Hearing them in a list like that made her sound like some sort of maniac. She really had been sorry about the middle-of-the-night emergency call. “How was I to know eating French onion soup would give her gas? I’ve never nursed a baby before.”

“I know, Mrs. Harrod.” The tenderness in his voice made Allie risk an upward glance. His gentle smile brought the tears forth. “I don’t mind you calling whenever you have a question. That’s what we’re here for. I’m not chastising you. The reason I wanted to talk with you this morning is for your own peace of mind.”

She sniffled. “What do you mean?”

“I want to assure you that your baby is completely healthy. I’ve examined her multiple times, and I promise you there is nothing wrong with her. I rarely make predictions, but I’ll make an exception in this case. Barring unforeseen accidents, I predict that Joan Leigh Harrod will outlive both of us by decades.”

Waves of relief washed over Allie as the doctor’s words sank in. She drew in a deep breath and smiled down at her beautiful,
healthy
daughter.

Then she looked up and included Dr. Reynolds in her smile. “Thank you. I feel much better.”

He placed both hands on the desk and stood. “I’m glad. Now go home and enjoy your baby. And trim her nails.”

“I will,” Allie promised as she got to her feet.

The doctor opened the office door as she scooped up the diaper bag and her purse, and patted her shoulder as she left. “I meant what I said about calling if you have a question. If you’re really worried, don’t hesitate.”

“Okay.” She avoided the nurse’s eyes as she made her way down the hallway.

Out in the parking lot, she laid Joanie in her car seat and snapped the shoulder straps in place. Deep blue eyes stared up at her, bringing a smile to Allie’s lips. She traced a finger lightly over the scratches, which didn’t look so bad now.

“When we get home,” she told her daughter, “you’re getting a manicure. And we don’t have to tell Daddy about this visit to Dr. Reynolds, do we? It’ll be a secret, just between us girls.”

7

“Tori’s here!”

Allie leaped off the sofa where she’d been watching the driveway through the window and ran to the front door of Gram’s house. She still thought of it as Gram’s house, even though her grandmother didn’t live there anymore. Instead, Gram lived in an assisted living center on the other side of town, a snazzy place as fancy as a country club. Joan and Mom still lived here, in the house where Allie had spent her teenage years. A good thing, since Allie couldn’t imagine a family celebration anywhere else.

Mom came out of the kitchen, an eager expression on her thin face as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I’m so glad she made it. She’s been working long hours lately. I was worried she wouldn’t get out of the office on time tonight.”

Allie shook her head. “She wouldn’t miss my birthday dinner.”

The door flew open, and Allie’s baby sister burst into the house. She stopped just inside the threshold, threw her arms wide, and struck a pose. “Here I am! The party can start now.”

Mom took a step toward her youngest daughter, but Allie jumped in front of her with a playful grin. “What do you mean, the party can start now? I’m the birthday girl, you know. Tonight, it’s all about
me
!” Their childhood competition to be the center of attention had become a long-standing family joke.

Tori tilted her bright blonde head back and her playful laughter filled the room. “You know I’m just kidding, Allie Gator. Happy birthday!”

She threw her arms around Allie, and Allie hugged her baby sister for all she was worth. Petite Tori’s short hair, artistically moussed to look mussed up in a sexy, little-girl way, tickled Allie’s nose. The subtle woodsy scent of what was probably an outrageously priced perfume lingered in the air when Tori left her embrace and stepped into their mother’s.

“It’s always good to see my baby.” Mom’s eyes behind her brown-rimmed glasses danced with pleasure as she hugged her youngest. “You make every gathering special when you come home.”

Allie agreed with Mom’s sentiment. Since Tori moved to Lexington, every homecoming seemed like a party. Allie and Joan had both settled in their hometown, so they saw each other all the time. But when their lively younger sibling came home, it was the three Sanderson sisters, together again. Sort of like the Three Musketeers. Or maybe Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

“Speaking of babies, where’s my namesake?” Tori peered into the living room, her face lighting when she spotted Joan in the recliner holding Joanie. She swept in that direction, tossing her handbag to the floor, and stood in front of Joan with her arms outstretched. “Give her up. It’s my turn.”

Joan’s arms tightened around the infant as she turned a mischievous grin upward. “
Whose
namesake is she?”

“Ours.” Tori conceded the point with a quick eye roll. “Your first name, my middle name. But you get to spend quality aunt time with her every day if you want, so tonight I am claiming my rightful share. Hand her over.”

“Oh, alright.”

Joan transferred Joanie into Tori’s arms, and Allie watched her little sister coo into the baby’s face.

“Is that Tori?” Gram called from the kitchen.

“It is.” Tori moved carefully in that direction, whispering to the baby as she walked.

Allie followed, and Joan rose from the recliner to fall into step beside her. Mom joined them, all the Sanderson women crammed into the small kitchen. Tori, holding the baby close to her chest, leaned forward to kiss Gram’s wrinkled cheek. Tori always looked professional, like she just stepped off a fashion runway. She’d cinched her belt in to accent her tiny waist, and the form-fitting gray skirt showed off slim hips without an ounce of excess bulk. Though the baby of the family had always been petite, and Allie more curvy—voluptuous, Eric generously called her—she had never felt the slightest hint of jealousy. They were different. All three of them.

Never, that is, until now. At that moment, looking at her little sister’s slim figure, Allie felt like a giant blubbery walrus next to a sleek dolphin.

On the counter sat a tray of goodies Gram had prepared to serve after dinner. Allie snatched one and thrust it toward her sister. “Here,” she said. “Have a cookie.”

Tori didn’t even look up. “No thanks. I don’t want to spoil my dinner.”

“It’s chocolate.” Allie waved the tempting morsel under Tori’s nose. “You won’t spoil your dinner. We still have to wait for Eric and Betty.”

“Ken’s coming too.” Joan glanced at her watch. “He should be here any minute.”

“Hey, I think she’s wet.” Tori hefted Joanie up and down in her arms to test the feel of her diaper. Her eyes gleamed as she grinned up at Allie. “Can I change her?”

“Sure. The diaper bag’s back in the spare bedroom.” Allie tossed the cookie back on the tray as Tori headed down the hallway, her eagerness for diaper duty apparent in her wide smile. Mom followed, and Gram, with the aid of her walker, turned toward the stove to stir a pot.

“It won’t work, you know.”

Allie peered sideways at Joan. “What won’t work?”

A smirk played at the edge of Joan’s lips. “Fattening Tori up with cookies won’t make you look thinner.”

Darn. Joan always could read her like a book. Allie widened her eyes with what she hoped was an innocent expression, and raised her chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Joan lifted a shoulder. “Whatever. Listen, if you’re worried about fitting back into those size 8 jeans, you should run with me in the mornings. We could bundle Joanie up and take her in that fancy stroller Mom bought. I’ll even come to your house a couple times a week, if you want.”

Allie didn’t meet her sister’s eye. She didn’t want to admit that the size 8s were so far out of her reach she’d considered donating them to the Salvation Army. She’d be ecstatic to fit into a 10. Twelve was a more reasonable goal. But running? All that jiggling and bouncing? Fine for Joan, who was fit and trim and had always been the most athletic of the three sisters. To Allie, it didn’t sound appealing.

“I don’t run in public.” She tightened her lips. “Not since I hit puberty.”

Joan laughed. “They make sports bras, you know. The things work wonders.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Allie gave her sister a smile to show she really did appreciate the offer. “I just need to cut back on the sweets, that’s all. Starting tomorrow.
After
my birthday.” She pinched off a chunk of chocolate chip cookie, popped it into her mouth, and winked at Joan before she left the kitchen.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Alllllliiieeeeeeeee. Happy birthday to you!”

Allie giggled at her sisters’ awful attempt at harmony. Beneath the table Eric squeezed her left hand while Mom set a chocolate layer cake in front of her. Twenty-eight candles glowed in the darkened room, creating a ring of light that illuminated the faces around her. Joan’s boyfriend Ken looked a little bemused at the exuberance of this birthday celebration. This was his first family birthday with the Sandersons, and Allie knew they could be a little overwhelming when they got together. She cast a quick glance at Betty, seated on Eric’s left. Her mother-in-law wore a completely blank expression, though she watched everything from the depths of those sad-looking eyes. From what Eric had told her of his childhood, big, loud, noisy family gatherings were completely alien to Betty. What must she think of theirs?

“Make a wish!” Tori said.

Mom stood behind her right shoulder, cake knife in hand. “Hurry, honey, the candles are melting onto the icing.”

Allie closed her eyes. She didn’t place much stock in birthday wishes, not since her fourteenth, when she wished Mom and Daddy would stop arguing and love each other again. But tradition was tradition, so she needed to pick one.

I wish … I wish I’d become the bestselling Varie Cose consultant
in Kentucky!

No sense wishing small. Might as well go for the gold. She sucked in air until her lungs burned and then blew out every candle. First try.

“Yay, Allie!” Joan clapped her hands, grinning. “You’ll get your wish.”

“I hope so,” Allie said as Mom flipped on the overhead light. Mom whisked the cake away to the kitchen counter, where she began pulling the candles off.

“I’m sure your wish is going to come true when you open my present.” Tori’s grin flashed around the table.

“Cake first,” Mom said. “Then the presents. Who wants ice cream?”

“Oh!” Gram hopped up from her seat. “Don’t forget the cookies. I know Eric will want one.”

A dimple creased her wrinkled cheek as Eric nodded. “I can never pass up your chocolate walnut cookies.”

“Cake for me,” Allie said as Mom placed a full dessert plate in front of her. “And Moose Tracks ice cream, my favorite.”

She picked up a fork, then hesitated as it hovered over the plate. How many calories did chocolate cake have? More than iced cinnamon rolls?

Forget it. Birthdays only come once a year.

Brushing away thoughts of caloric intake, she plunged her fork into the fudgy icing and fluffy cake. “Oh, yum. Mom, this is delicious.”

Mom patted her shoulder, then looked at Eric’s mother. “Betty, would you like ice cream with your cake?”

Betty sat upright as she had all evening, not allowing herself to rest against the back of the chair, her posture so perfect it could almost be called rigid.

Like the queen of England or something.
Allie smashed cake crumbs into the tines of her fork, regretting the unkind thought. Betty probably just felt uncomfortable in front of all these people she didn’t know.

“It’s really good.” Allie smiled at her mother-in-law to include her in the family atmosphere.

The corners of Betty’s thin lips turned up briefly. “I’m sure it is, but I rarely eat sweets. Don has problems with sugar, you know.”

Allie didn’t reply. Granted, she had not spent much time around her in-laws, but she remembered Don scarfing down several pieces of cake at their wedding reception. If he had sugar problems, he certainly hadn’t seemed concerned back then. Allie wondered if he was taking advantage of his wife’s absence to indulge his sweet tooth. Or maybe he was indulging himself in other ways, like leaving his shoes in the living room, or not wiping out the sink after he shaved in the morning. If Allie were in his position, she’d certainly be cutting loose while the Queen Mother was gone.

Allie! Quit being unkind.

She finished her dessert with a final giant bite and pushed the plate back. “Okay, I’m done. Can I open my presents now?”

“Mine first.” Tori jumped out of her seat and retrieved a package from the pile in the corner. She flashed a dimple around the table as she set it in front of Allie. “She’s going to love it. It’s the quintessential Allie present, just perfect for her.”

Allie noticed Ken watching Tori, trying to catch her eye with a friendly smile, but Tori ignored him as she had all night. Tori disliked Joan’s boyfriend, even though he was a handsome doctor and a really nice guy. Unfortunately, he was also very religious, which, according to Tori, negated all the points on the “pro” side of a relationship with him.

Personally, Allie did consider him a little over the top with the religion thing, but that’s what made him and Joan perfect for each other. Eric seemed to like the guy, and that said a lot, because Eric was not big on religious types.