The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)
Kristan Higgins
CHAPTER ONE
“YOU HAVE A WHISKER.”
Though I hear the loudly whispered comment, it doesn’t quite register, as I am rapt with adoration, staring at the wonder that is my hour-old niece. Her face still glows red from the effort of being born, her dark blue eyes are as wide and calm as a tortoise’s. I probably shouldn’t tell my sister that her baby reminds me of a reptile. Well. The baby is astonishingly beautiful. Miraculous.
“She’s amazing,” I murmur. Corinne beams, then shifts the baby the slightest bit away from me. “Can I hold her, Cory?” My two aunts mutter darkly—only Mom has held the baby so far, and clearly, I’m breaking rank.
My sister hesitates. “Um…well…”
“Let her, Cory,” Chris encourages, and my sister reluctantly hands over the little bundle.
She’s warm and precious, and my eyes fill with tears. “Hi there,” I whisper. “I’m your auntie.” I can’t believe how much I love this baby…she’s fifty-five minutes old, and I’m ready to throw myself in front of a bus for her, should the need arise.
“Pssst. Lucy.” It’s Iris’s voice again. “Lucy. You have a whisker.” My seventy-six-year-old aunt taps her upper lip. “Right there. Plus, you’re holding her wrong. Give her to me.”
“Oh, gee, I don’t know about that,” Corinne protests, but Iris deftly takes the baby from me. My arms feel lonely without the sweet weight of my niece. “Whisker,” Iris says, jerking her chin at me.
Almost against my will, my finger goes to my upper lip…gah! Something thick and almost sharp, like a piece of barbed wire, is embedded in my skin. A whisker! Iris is right. I have a whisker.
My tiny aunt Rose sidles up to me. “Let’s take a look here,” she says in her little-girl voice, studying my lip. Then, before I know it, she seizes the offending hair and yanks.
“Youch! Rose! That hurt!” I press a finger against the now smarting hair follicle.
“Don’t worry, honey, I got it. You must be coming into the Change.” She gives me a conspiratorial smile, then holds my whisker up to the light.
“I’m thirty years old, Rose,” I protest weakly. “And come on, stop looking at it.” I brush the whisker from her fingers. The whisker was a fluke. I’m not menopausal. I can’t be. Could I? Granted, I’m feeling a bit…mature today, given that my younger sister has had a baby before I did…
Rose scrutinizes my face for another hair. “It can happen. Your second cousin Ilona was thirty-five. I don’t think you’re too young. A mustache is usually the first sign.”
“Electrolysis,” my mother recommends as she tucks the blankets around Corinne’s feet. “Grinelda does it. I’ll have her look at you next time she comes in for a reading.”
“Your psychic also does electrolysis?” Christopher asks.
“She’s a medium. And yes, Grinelda is a very talented woman,” Iris says, smiling down at Emma.
“Don’t I get a turn to hold that child? I seem to remember I’m also her great-aunt,” Rose peeps. “And personally, I bleach. Once I shaved, and three days later, I looked like Uncle Zoltan after a bender.” She accepts my niece from Iris and her wrinkled, sweet face morphs into a smile.
“Oh, shaving. Never shave, Lucy,” Iris says. “You get stubbly.”
“Um…okay,” I say, shooting a glance at my sister. Surely this is not normal conversation in a labor and delivery room. “So how are you feeling now, Corinne?”
“I’m wonderful,” she says. “Can I please hold my daughter again?”
“I just got her!” Rose protests.
“Hand her over,” Christopher orders. With a martyred sigh, Rose obeys.
My sister gazes down at the baby, then looks up at her husband. “Do you think we should put some Purell on her?” she asks, her brow wrinkling in worry.
“Nah,” Chris answers. “You girls scrubbed in, right?”
“Absolutely. Don’t want Emma to catch the polio,” Iris says, not a trace of sarcasm in her voice. I suppress a smile.
“Chris, honey, how are you feeling, sweetie?” Corinne asks her husband.
“A lot better than you, honey. I didn’t just give birth, after all.”
Corinne waves away his protest. “Lucy, he was so wonderful. Really. You should’ve seen him! So calm, so helpful. He was amazing.”
“I didn’t do a thing, Lucy,” my brother-in-law assures me. He reaches out to touch the baby’s cheek. “Your sister…she’s incredible.” The new parents gaze at each other with sappy adoration, and I feel the familiar, wistful lump in my throat.
Jimmy and I might’ve looked at each other like that.
“Hello! I’m Tania, your lactation coach!” A booming voice makes us all jump. “Well, well! Quite a turnout, I see! Do you want an audience, Mother?”
“Corinne, we’ll go,” I say, though it’s quite possible that my mother and aunts would like to stay and offer a running commentary. “We’ll see you later. I’m so proud of you.” I kiss my sister, touch the baby’s cheek once more and try not to notice as Corinne wipes her baby’s face. “Bye, Emma,” I whisper, my eyes filling yet again. “I love you, honey.” My niece. I have a niece! Visions of tea parties and jump rope fill my head.