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“It’s winter break, they’re touring some colleges that have good cheer programs. They want scholarships. God bless them. Chloe and I were softball girls.”

“I was on the pregnant-at-sixteen-plan,” Carrie laughed. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Damn, with your four hellions running around, I sometimes forget about Tracy. Is she enjoying the Navy?”

“She’s deployed in Guam right now. She’s loving it.”

“That’s good. You should have me come babysit again. You know how much I enjoy it.”

Carrie lifted an eyebrow. “The last time you babysat, we came home at midnight, all the kids were still up, and they were bouncing off the walls because of the sugar high they were on.”

“In my defense I didn’t realize that sodas would affect them that badly.”

“How about the chocolate molten lava cakes you ordered with the pizzas that you served them at nine o’clock?”

“Who ratted me out?” I demanded.

“Who do you think?”

“Jill. She’s a rule follower. Carrie, you’ve got to work on that.”

“I like rule followers,” Carrie said. “I would prefer it if none of my kids got pregnant or got someone pregnant while they were in high school. Just saying.”

I tilted my head and grinned. When I thought back to my high school days, I realized just how foolish and lucky I had been. “You’re right. Following rules is important.”

“Now, I came in for something specific.”

“Ah, you came to spend money, not just to tell me that Adam was planning to stay in Jasper Creek. I’m honored.”

“Zoe, you have the best stuff. I never look online anymore, or if I do, it’s your website.”

I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. I worked damn hard on my store. It was my baby.

Shit. Make that: it was my pride and joy. No talk of babies.

I had to go visit Chloe again. She’d been calling. I’d only been over there one time, and I’d only stayed twenty minutes. If I wasn’t careful, Chloe would tell my sisters that she was worried, or worse yet, hurt. Then my sisters would start hounding me.

“Zoe?” Carrie snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Honey, you there?”

I gave her a wry grin. “Sorry, thinking of a new vendor we’re going to be displaying. Got lost.”

Carrie gave me a deep look. “You know you can talk to me any time, don’t you?” Her voice was quiet. “I never talk about this, but I was days away from giving Tracy up for adoption. My parents said they would support me either way, but my high school boyfriend had left the picture, and Mom and Dad were subtly pushing for adoption because they thought my life would be easier. It was a really emotional time for me. Just because I ultimately kept Tracy, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t understand some of the angst and heartache you’re probably going through.”

It wasn’t like Carrie and I were best buddies or anything. Not like my sisters, or Angelica, but she was outside the family. I’d been onloading a lot on Angelica.

“Maybe we can get coffee sometime,” I heard myself saying.

“Name the time and place.” She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now show me the new stuff.”

I'd called ahead, which was how I knew I was in trouble. Chloe couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice; she practically vibrated through the phone line. In no way shape or form did she say anything to make me feel guilty, but I felt like shit anyway.

First things first, I looked around my store. We had plenty of things that would work. I knew we did. Why couldn’t I think of anything?

I took a deep breath. Settle. You can do this. I walked to the back wall where the baby stuff was. Easy.

First, a soft baby blanket in pale yellow that Emma Mae Jackson had crocheted. Then I snatched three onesies that June Crawford specialized in, the kind with the funny sayings that Ernie claimed were beneath us, but always made him chuckle when he unboxed them. I grabbed some bibs she’d made, too.

Ooooh. On the top shelf, I spotted a giraffe Nancy Smith from Clarksville had made. It was small enough to fit in a newborn's hand, and so soft I wanted to press my face into it. Into the basket it went. I put the basket on the floor, cleared out some space on the eye-level shelf, and put the three remaining giraffes there. They’d sell like hotcakes.