Chapter 9

Author's Note: Two chapters in two days! (By the way, this is the last chapter before the epilogue!) Thank you for the reviews!

Disclaimer: All rights to the Mother-Daughter Book Club series belong to Heather Vogel Frederick.

Becca

I slam the car door shut and stand in the driveway for a moment soaking in the last of the afternoon sunshine. August is coming to a close and I'm trying to get as tan as I can. After a few minutes though I decide I should probably go into the house. As I walk up the pathway I can see some of the changes Emma and Stewart have had to make to allow Stewart to get around more easily. They've put a ramp up to the porch and put a stone walkway around the yard so Stewart can get around in his wheelchair as well as a cleared space on the porch so he can sit outside.

As I stand on the porch I straighten my shirt and make sure the French braid I put my hair up in is still in place before rapping my knuckles against the door. I hear a faint commotion from the other side followed by a harried voice, "I'll be right there!" Slow, heavy footsteps sound and the door opens, revealing a heavily pregnant Emma. Her hair is in disarray, there are bags under her eyes, and she's wearing a baggy t-shirt paired with a pair of leggings.

"Becca," is all she says in way of greeting. But her tone is not unfriendly, just tired.

"Hey Emma," I say brightly.

She musters a smile, "Come on in. I think there's some lemonade in the kitchen…" Her voice trails off as she lumbers down the hallway, obviously expecting me to follow.

I frown as I shut the door. Emma looks too tired. She's almost eight months pregnant; she should be resting not trying to take care of the house singlehandedly. But then again when your husband is newly confined to a wheelchair I guess there isn't much time to relax. I head into the living room where I know Stewart will be reading. Passing through the hallway, I note the house looks better kept than I thought even though it's not exactly spotless.

I step into the living room, "Hey bro."

Stewart looks up from what I'm guessing is a parenting book. "Becca! How are you?"

I smile cheerfully at him but inwardly wince. He won't be able to walk again but he's acting as gracious as ever. "I'm great thanks. You?"

His smile falters slightly but he quickly recovers it. "Fine, going a bit stir crazy though." He sends a concerned look at his wife who is sitting on the couch, a vacant, tired look on her face.

"That's good. I brought over some food from Pies and Prejudice as well as some flowers. I thought maybe I could help around the house with any shopping or cleaning that you need done," I tell him.

Emma sits up, "That's really kind of you Becca. I could use some help in the kitchen but for the most part we're good. Darcy and Jess stop by almost every day to help."

I suddenly feel guilty. Should I have stopped by more often? I came once or twice a week to bring food and help out a bit but still, Stewart's my brother. As if she's reading my thoughts Emma says, "No Becca, you shouldn't have stopped by more. I know how busy P&P is. Jess and Darcy are both teachers so they have the summer off."

I nod but I'm still feeling guilty, so I make a resolution to do everything I can to help today. "Do you want me to put this food in the fridge?" I gesture to the bag I'm holding. Emma begins to stand but I quickly shake my head, "Nope. You stay there and rest."

I quickly hurry down the hall to the kitchen and set my bag down on a chair. Darcy and Jess must've not been over for a couple of days because the kitchen is pretty gross. I start by filling a vase with water and putting the tulips I bought in. After clearing and wiping down the table, I set the flowers in the center. Opening the shopping bag full of food I cooked I begin to put it in the fridge, stacking the containers neatly one on top of the other. As I do that, I throw out any expired food I come across and clean the shelves. Next I tackle the mountain of dishes that have accumulated next to the sink and empty the dishwasher and drying rack. Taking out the trash, I also grab the recycling and make a mental note to do the laundry and clean the bathrooms.

Two hours later I've vacuumed the house, put away all the books scattered around, put a load of laundry in the dryer, scrubbed the kitchen and am preparing a dinner that consists of a salad, roasted chicken, potatoes, and for dessert, ice cream I got from Kimball's. My back is aching and my hands are red from hot water but I feel good that I've helped Emma and Stewart.

"Em! Stewart! Dinner's ready!" I call as I carefully set the table for two.

Stewart rolls into the kitchen with Emma right behind him. He sniffs the air and says appreciatively, "It smells really good in here."

"Thanks," I reply and set down the platter of chicken.

Emma scans the table, "Wait, aren't you going to stay and eat with us?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude," I say hastily, making a grab for my bag.

But Emma is surprisingly nimble and she blocks my way, "No way Becca. You've done a ton of work. The least we can do is offer for you to stay to dinner…a dinner that you cooked." She smiles at me and I relent.

"Alright, I will." I retrieve another plate and extra set of cutlery and join them.

"Wow Becca the whole place looks fantastic. Maybe even better than when Emma was cleaning," Stewart teases his wife.

Emma laughs and I'm relieved to see some life come into her face. "Stewart!" she exclaims. "That is so not true! No offense Becca," she adds to me.

"No it's okay," I tell her and I mean it. It's nice to hear her laughing. Looking at Stewart sitting at the table it's easy to imagine that he's not sitting in a wheel chair and that any second he's going to stand up and go find a book with a funny quote in it.

The easy banter continues between the two of them and I'm content to sit back and just watch allowing their voices to flow around me. I don't remember falling asleep but the next thing I know Emma is gently shaking me awake. "Becca, wake up."

I yawn loudly but quickly cover my mouth when I realize how close she is. "Sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep."

She waves away my apologies, "Relax. I'm feeling much better thanks to you. I managed to take a nap and even brush my hair and put on some respectable clothes." I take her in fully and notice she is telling the truth. Her face isn't quite as pale and her brown hair has been tamed and pushed behind her ears. She's wearing a wrap around dress and a pair of sandals.

"That's great," I tell her warmly. "I'm glad I could do something for you guys. I feel that I should've done more."

"Nonsense, you've done more than you needed to," she hugs me best as she can with her huge baby bump.

I laugh and tap her stomach. "Have you decided whether or not you want to know the gender of the baby?"

Emma shakes her head, "We're still not sure. But at this rate I'm pretty sure we'll just have to wait until the baby's born. Whatever the gender I have the feeling they're going to be a great athlete. They're kicking up a storm."

"Any thoughts on names?" I ask her.

She grins, "Tons of them. Stewart and I argue over them every day. I'm rooting for April if it's a girl and Marcus if it's a boy. He's voting for Isabel and Thomas."

"I'm a fan of April. It seems like your kind of name," I tell her.

"I know! That's why I like it! It has this nice feeling to it." Emma seems lost in thought so I stay quiet and stare at my clasped hands resting on the table. The kitchen is quiet except for the ticking of the clock and the muffled sound of music from the living room.

My phone rings, shattering the peaceful atmosphere. I grab it and press a bunch of random buttons in an attempt to silence the ringtone. I mouth "Sorry" at Emma who only looks on with amusement.

"Hello?" I say.

"Hey," Zach says.

"Zach!" I say, louder than I intended. Emma looks up but when she sees nothing is wrong she goes back to her book.

"Becca!" he laughs.

"I totally forgot to tell you that I was going over to Emma and Stewart's," I gasp.

"Relax. I can take of myself for one night. You don't have to come home yet, I got some leftovers from P&P," he says.

"Good," I say. "I'll be back in about forty-five minutes. I'm going to pick up some stuff at the grocery store."

"Alright. Love you," he says.

"Love you too," I tell him.

I shove my phone back into my bag and tap Emma, who is deeply engrossed in her book which I see is about baby-care. "Emma. I've got to go. I'll see you soon. I'm coming over in a few days to help out some more."

"No, you don't need to that," she protests.

"I insist," I say firmly. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Stewart. Remember, I left a whole bunch of food in the fridge as well as some ice cream."

"Thank you Becca. I mean it."

I smile at her as I leave the kitchen and slip into the living room. Stewart's eyes are closed and I'm about to leave when they open and he says, "Becca. Come over here, I was only resting my eyes."

I hesitantly cross the room and stand next to him. "Feeling okay?'

"Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to say I'm so grateful. I feel useless not being able to walk. Emma is running around and the baby…" he trails off hopelessly

"It's going to be fine. After a while you'll be going around as usual," I reassure him.

"You're lying," he says but he's smiling at me.

"No, I swear."

"Alright, if you say so Rebecca," he teases me.

I roll my eyes and bend down to hug him. I tousle his hair like a little kid and he bats my hand away. I laugh and say my final goodbyes before letting myself out. Once I'm outside I take a deep breath. It took a lot of energy to be cheerful around the two of them when all I wanted to do was cry. I've seen Stewart numerous times since the accident but I still can't get used to the sight of him in a wheelchair. My eyes start to burn and I rapidly blink away tears. I remember him running around when he was younger and then playing hockey and biking all over Concord and walking Yo-Yo. Things he can't do now. I wipe my eyes and get in the car, switching on the air conditioning and radio.

As I drive I think hard about what life would be like if Zach was the one in the wheel chair. We'd have to move, there was no way he could get to the apartment above the tea shop and he wouldn't be able to help in the shop. He wouldn't be able to drive or do any sports. It would be a totally different lifestyle. But then I realize; I'd adjust and so would he. And so will Emma and Stewart and all the people around them. Because after all, life goes on regardless of whether or not you're prepared to go with it.