2 Weeks 'Til Eve (2 'Til Series Book 3)

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Authors: Heather Muzik
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for
months and he finally realized I was alive and got my phone number and I
couldn’t even answer his call. He ended up going out with Jenny Martin, by the
way. So my mother can wait just like I did.”
    He looked back at her dubiously.
    “I’ll call her back later.”
    “Tonight.” Firm.
    She paused. Sighed. “Tonight.”
    “I’m serious. I don’t want to get on my
mother-in-law’s bad side.”
    “Don’t worry, you, she loves. It’s me she has a
problem with…. Now let me have a nice last supper before being tortured,” she
said dramatically.
    Cara came skipping into the room, narrowly missing the
island in her excitement. “—and I was a carrot that had to say, ‘Hi-ho, farmer
Joe, pick me please, I’m ready to go. On your table for a treat… I am good for
you to eat.’ I was ‘sposed to be a turnip, except Magnus got hungry and ate my
costume all up, so I was a carrot instead. And even though the other carrot
was a silent carrot, Mrs. Karnes said to say my turnip lines anyway.”
    Catherine’s blood ran cold as she realized Cara was on
the phone a half second too late. “—Yup, she’s right here. I love you too.”
Cara held the phone out to her. “It’s Grammy Lizzy. She wants to talk to you.”
    “You answered the phone?”
    “Uh-huh. And I was real polite too. Mrs. Karnes says
being polite is very important.”
    “Oh.”
    Catherine took the phone and put it to her ear,
completely done in by a first grader. “Hi, Mom,” she said robotically.
    “Catherine, you are close to impossible to reach.
Thankfully I had a wonderful little talk with Fynn earlier. I am sure he told
you the news.”
    “Um… yeah—I mean yes.” Her mother hated the laziness
of things like yeah and gonna and sayin’ and all kinds of
relaxed speech. Speak with structure and pride.
    “We do not want to be any trouble. We just want to see
you. All of you. And since we will probably wait forever for an invitation….”
    And there it was, the hanging judgment. Just enough
left dangling there to say her daughter was a terrible hostess, daughter,
person. “We were planning to come see you after the New Year,” Catherine said
lamely. They hadn’t planned any such trip. She was just grasping for any
purchase.
    “But it has already been too long. We have never even
seen Nekoyah yet. Or your house. And once the baby is born, it will be awhile
before you are ready to travel,” Elizabeth Hemmings pointed out, seeing the
story for what it was—a mirage that would disappear as it approached. “Besides,
you will have way too much going on to have to pick up to come see us. We have it
easy. Just a suitcase and we are on our way.”
    “I thought you were spending Christmas with Connor and
Lacey, though.”
    “We will be long gone before Christmas, not to worry.
We just want to help out in the last weeks before the baby comes.”
    “Weeks?” Catherine choked out.
    “Yes, Fynn did tell you, I hope. Two weeks.”
    Two weeks! That was a long time. That was an
eternity. That was impossible.
    “I am sure you have more than enough things to do in
preparing for the baby and Christmas too, and we can occupy Cara and help
lessen the load a bit.”
    More judgment, her mother assuming she was leaving
everything to the last minute when she had all kinds of things ready. The
nursery paint was almost picked out, the battle between two paint chips still
waging on the wall. She knew exactly where the crib was, at Finnegan’s
Furniture just waiting for her to slap her Visa card down on it—
    “Did you tell her about the signs, Elizabeth?” It was
the sound of her father’s voice in the distant background.
    “No, William, I did not.”
    “What signs?” Catherine asked.
    “It is nothing,” she insisted. “Just a bit of
ridiculousness that—”
    “What?” Now Catherine needed to know.
    “They are not even signs,” Elizabeth Hemmings said,
brushing the whole conversation off on a technicality. “Just a few posters
around

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