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Authors: Janel Gradowski
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and responding to questions. It was exciting and strange all stirred together into a happy stew.
But the blog work was just a background to the thoughts that were bouncing around her brain. The purportedly sleep-inducing tea wasn't working at all to settle down her overactive mind. A homeopathic remedy fail. Or maybe it would work on people whose thoughts bubbled up at a normal pace. Ideas were foaming in her brain as though it was made of baking soda, and her blood was vinegar. An elementary school science experiment kind of thought process. Except most of the thoughts were clones of each other. She had almost been shot. She had almost been shot. She had almost been shot!
Obviously Buck was grieving. Unexpectedly losing a spouse was horrible. Finding out she was murdered…devastating. Even the strongest person could give in and drown their sorrow in a bottle of whiskey given those circumstances. Walking into a house of a stranger, one she knew was extremely stressed, had been stupid on her part. Grief stricken, drunk, and armed was a combination that almost got her killed. What had been the fatal mix of circumstances that got Esther Mae killed?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Riding in the car was a good lesson on what the baby would see in its car seat—basically treetops and roofs. Pretty boring stuff, especially in the winter when there weren't even any leaves. Carla made a mental note to buy plenty of toys to hang from the car seat handle.
Since she wasn't able to be transported on the couch, Amy had insisted Carla recline the Mini's seat to stay in a similar position. Her best friend might not be a mom, but she had the fierce protectiveness of one. Not only wouldn't she allow Carla to sit up like a normal person, a distinction she felt far away from, but Amy was also driving as if she was taking a driver's education test. Slow and steady would eventually get them to the doctor's office, if both of them didn't die of boredom before then.
"But you need a baby shower, now that you're on bed rest, more than ever. You can't get out yourself and buy the things you need."
So the view wasn't entertaining, but Amy's typical overreaction was very amusing. With her best friend, everything was served with a dose of drama. Not that Amy was an annoying drama queen. She simply tended to get very excited about some things. Her current focus was on engineering a baby shower. It wasn't that Carla necessarily didn't want one. She just didn't feel it was mandatory, especially since her immobile state often made her resemble a walrus hanging out on shore. Or at least that's how she imagined she looked. Amy said she was glowing. Bruce said she was gorgeous. Liars. Spending twenty-three hours a day sprawled on the couch sporting a permanent case of bed head was not pretty in any way.
"We already have the crib ordered and car seat bought, along with a pile of unisex clothing. We made it without a wedding shower. We'll be fine without a baby shower. If there's something critical that we've overlooked, I'm sure you or Mom can get it."
Amy's fingers drummed the steering wheel. She was getting aggravated. "I don't know anything about babies. Beyond buying cute outfits, I'm lost. People who are already parents give great gifts to first time moms at showers. Things you don't even know you need but you won't be able to live without once you have them. Me shopping for a baby is the blind leading the blind. Besides, you and Shepler were both living on your own when you got married, so it wasn't bad setting up your household together. Neither of you have made babies before."
Well, that last part was true. She and Bruce had no idea what they were really getting into. Sure, they had read a bunch of books and even gone to parenting classes, but every baby was like a snowflake. Different. The books could tell her how to change a diaper like a professional but not how to expertly perform the task on a hungry, howling baby at 3:00 a.m. while sleep deprived.
But the blog work was just a background to the thoughts that were bouncing around her brain. The purportedly sleep-inducing tea wasn't working at all to settle down her overactive mind. A homeopathic remedy fail. Or maybe it would work on people whose thoughts bubbled up at a normal pace. Ideas were foaming in her brain as though it was made of baking soda, and her blood was vinegar. An elementary school science experiment kind of thought process. Except most of the thoughts were clones of each other. She had almost been shot. She had almost been shot. She had almost been shot!
Obviously Buck was grieving. Unexpectedly losing a spouse was horrible. Finding out she was murdered…devastating. Even the strongest person could give in and drown their sorrow in a bottle of whiskey given those circumstances. Walking into a house of a stranger, one she knew was extremely stressed, had been stupid on her part. Grief stricken, drunk, and armed was a combination that almost got her killed. What had been the fatal mix of circumstances that got Esther Mae killed?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Riding in the car was a good lesson on what the baby would see in its car seat—basically treetops and roofs. Pretty boring stuff, especially in the winter when there weren't even any leaves. Carla made a mental note to buy plenty of toys to hang from the car seat handle.
Since she wasn't able to be transported on the couch, Amy had insisted Carla recline the Mini's seat to stay in a similar position. Her best friend might not be a mom, but she had the fierce protectiveness of one. Not only wouldn't she allow Carla to sit up like a normal person, a distinction she felt far away from, but Amy was also driving as if she was taking a driver's education test. Slow and steady would eventually get them to the doctor's office, if both of them didn't die of boredom before then.
"But you need a baby shower, now that you're on bed rest, more than ever. You can't get out yourself and buy the things you need."
So the view wasn't entertaining, but Amy's typical overreaction was very amusing. With her best friend, everything was served with a dose of drama. Not that Amy was an annoying drama queen. She simply tended to get very excited about some things. Her current focus was on engineering a baby shower. It wasn't that Carla necessarily didn't want one. She just didn't feel it was mandatory, especially since her immobile state often made her resemble a walrus hanging out on shore. Or at least that's how she imagined she looked. Amy said she was glowing. Bruce said she was gorgeous. Liars. Spending twenty-three hours a day sprawled on the couch sporting a permanent case of bed head was not pretty in any way.
"We already have the crib ordered and car seat bought, along with a pile of unisex clothing. We made it without a wedding shower. We'll be fine without a baby shower. If there's something critical that we've overlooked, I'm sure you or Mom can get it."
Amy's fingers drummed the steering wheel. She was getting aggravated. "I don't know anything about babies. Beyond buying cute outfits, I'm lost. People who are already parents give great gifts to first time moms at showers. Things you don't even know you need but you won't be able to live without once you have them. Me shopping for a baby is the blind leading the blind. Besides, you and Shepler were both living on your own when you got married, so it wasn't bad setting up your household together. Neither of you have made babies before."
Well, that last part was true. She and Bruce had no idea what they were really getting into. Sure, they had read a bunch of books and even gone to parenting classes, but every baby was like a snowflake. Different. The books could tell her how to change a diaper like a professional but not how to expertly perform the task on a hungry, howling baby at 3:00 a.m. while sleep deprived.
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