“Wow,” Annie whispered.

They moved on, walking in communal silence, commenting from time to time on the different displays. They soon found themselves at the edge of the festival and near the marina.

“Feel like going?” Jordan asked, motioning to the water. “I haven’t been down here in forever.”

“Sure.”

“When my parents first opened the restaurant, we used to come down here all the time to buy shrimp off the boats,” Jordan said.

“And fish?”

“They’d get their fish from Al’s, down in Fulton. I think they still do,” she said.

“If they had the restaurant, why Fat Larry’s?”

Jordan shook her head. “No, the store came first. But my father had always dreamed of owning his own restaurant. He didn’t have the money so his parents helped them out.”

“The ones who built the beach house?”

Jordan nodded. “My mother’s parents were older when they had her. I think in their forties. So when they retired, they moved to Arizona. Growing up, we rarely saw them,” she said.

“Why Arizona?”

“Both of my mother’s siblings lived there. They were older and already had kids when my parents got married. So they went where the grandkids were.”

“So you were never close to them?”

“No. When I think of family, it’s my dad’s parents. But he’s an only child, so cousins and whatnot are all in Arizona still.”

“They came for the funeral, surely,” Annie said.

“No. And we really didn’t expect them to,” Jordan said. “They’d seen Matt maybe three or four times in their lifetime. And my grandparents, they’re both deceased.”

“So you have all this family in Arizona, yet you really only have your mom and dad,” she said.

“Yeah. But that’s how it’s always been.” Jordan glanced at her. “What about you? I know you’re an only child, but what about aunts and uncles?”

“I have an aunt who lives in Corpus. She divorced, never remarried and never had kids,” she said. “She’s my father’s sister, but she doesn’t come around much. Thanksgiving and Christmas, that’s about it. My mother’s brother lives in Houston. He’s married with four kids, but they’re all younger than me. He’s ten years younger than my mother.”

“So no close relatives for you either?”

“No. Just my parents really.” She was feeling sad again. “And you know how that’s going.”

Jordan put one arm around her shoulder, pulled her closer for a second, then released her. “So let’s have them over for dinner,” she suggested again.

“It could get awkward,” she warned.

“Don’t you think if they knew who the father was, they might feel a little better?”

Annie stopped walking. “I’m not sure. Matt’s gone. It might make it worse.”

“Well, at least they won’t be holding out hope that you’ll marry the father of your baby.”

Annie slapped her arm. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“I’m not making light of Matt’s death,” Jordan said. “But it might make them feel better if they know who the father is rather than thinking it’s some thug you hooked up with in a drunken stupor on a Friday night.”

Annie laughed. “Yeah, now that’s so me.”

“Come on,” Jordan coaxed. “Have them out to the house. They need to get over it. You need to get over it.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. It is what it is, Annie. And as we’ve just discussed, they’re the only family you have.” Jordan smiled as she met her gaze. “Well, other than me.”

Annie’s chest tightened at her words, and without thinking, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around Jordan’s shoulders and hugging her tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered into her ear.



Chapter Twenty-Two

Annie closed the door, then leaned against it. She blew out a breath as she looked across the room to where Jordan was watching her.

“I guess it could have been worse,” she said.

Jordan gave her a half-smile. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Annie pushed off the door. “My mother barely spoke to you.”

Jordan shrugged. “Oh, well. She’s probably never been in the same room with a lesbian before. Not knowingly, at least.”

Annie laughed. “I’m certain of that.” Her smile faded. “But still, she was rude to you in your own home.”

Jordan walked closer. “Annie, it’s not me they were here to see. I couldn’t care less what your mother thinks of me.”

Annie sighed. Yes, her mother had been blatantly rude. Surprisingly, her father had been rather cordial to Jordan. Annie met Jordan’s gaze, smiling slightly. “I thought my mother was going to faint when I told her about Matt.”

Jordan nodded. “I did too. But at least they know now. They can stop speculating.”

“God, can you believe how many times she mentioned Derrick’s name?”

Jordan poured herself a glass of wine, then looked at Annie with raised eyebrows. Annie nodded at her unasked question. After Jordan poured an apple cider for her, they took their glasses out to the deck, as had become the norm for them.

It was a warm evening and Jordan put the ceiling fan on as well as the oscillating fan she kept in the corner. Annie’s shorts were tight and she unbuttoned them, letting out a relieved sigh.

“When are you going shopping?”

“I’ve got to go to Corpus for my doctor’s appointment on Tuesday. I’ll go by the mall then.” She turned her head, looking at Jordan. “I can’t believe I’m about to buy maternity clothes. Having kids was never really in my plans,” she admitted. “Even when I was married, I had no desire to have kids. I thought it was just because of Derrick and…you know, I wanted out of the marriage.”

“I know this wasn’t in your plans. I know you want to finish college and get on with your life,” Jordan said. “But I’m really glad you didn’t get an abortion. And I’m not just saying that because it’s Matt’s baby.”

Annie reached over and took her hand, squeezing tightly. “I never considered an abortion. I do vote pro-choice, though. I think it should be each woman’s own decision.”

“I agree,” Jordan said. “And if you’d decided to do it, I wouldn’t have judged you. But I’m glad you didn’t.”

Annie smiled and released her hand. No, she hadn’t ever considered an abortion, despite her mother’s mention of it. Talk about hypocrisy. Her mother was always first in line when her church organized pro-life rallies. She wondered if her father knew that her mother had suggested it.

“So, do you think they’re pleased with your living arrangements?” Jordan asked. “I mean, your father seemed to like it here.”

Annie laughed. “Pleased? My mother is afraid I’m going to catch some disease from you,” she teased. “When you took Dad down to see the new pier, she hinted that if I wanted to move back in with them, I could.”

“Really? And?”

“I told her it was far too relaxing and stress-free here for me to even consider moving back with them.”

“Good. Because I like you being here,” Jordan said. “I’ve always lived alone. I wasn’t really sure what to expect.”

“I didn’t either,” Annie admitted. “I mean, we didn’t really know each other all that well when I moved in.” She again reached over and took Jordan’s hand. She no longer tried to analyze why she had this compelling need to touch her as much as she did. “You’ve become a good friend, Jordan. I could only imagine the mental state I’d be in if it weren’t for you.”

Jordan surprised her by linking their fingers together. “Thank you. Having you here has made me realize how very few friends I really have,” she said. “Work friends, mostly. Superficial. I guess I never took the time to nurture friendships. I was more interested in my career.”

“You must have made friends in college.”

“Sure. And there’s a few that I keep up with. But it’s only the occasional email or a rare phone call, that’s about it. They’ve drifted away, like I have.”

Annie felt sorry for her. What a lonely existence it must have been for her to spend so much time working and so little time playing. She’d venture to guess that this summer—despite Matt’s death—had been one of the most sociable ones for Jordan in years. Not only was she interacting with them at the store, she was interacting with customers and with other shop owners. Jordan had seemed to really enjoy herself at the festival the other week, and next Sunday she was hosting the office party out here. The weeks had been full and busy and they were flying by. August would be here in no time. And August meant changes were ahead. Annie would go back to school late in the month and Jordan…well, Jordan would disappear out of her life and go back to Chicago. That thought made her very sad.

She glanced over at Jordan, realizing that they were still holding hands. She should pull away, but she didn’t. It felt nice to…to connect with Jordan like this. She let her thumb rub lightly against Jordan’s soft skin and Jordan tightened her fingers a bit.

Sadness gripped her again. What would she do when Jordan left? She didn’t worry about a place to live. Both Jordan and her parents had made it clear that she could continue to live out here. But Jordan had become her rock. Jordan was strong, she was steady and mature. She was confident and sure of herself and Annie felt secure just being in her presence.

“What are you thinking about?” Jordan asked, her voice soft and quiet in the darkness.

“You,” Annie said honestly.

Jordan said nothing. But now it was her thumb moving against Annie’s skin as their hands remained linked. Annie closed her eyes, letting Jordan’s gentle touch lull her into an even deeper sense of peacefulness.



Chapter Twenty-Three

When the office door burst open, Annie looked up sharply from the order she was placing. She silently groaned as Derrick stood there. She knew by the look on his face that he’d heard the news.