Page 69 of A Song for Another Woman

June is beside me before I can say her name. “Emmy.”

“I’m okay.”

“You are not.”

Mabel Tandy stops mid-story at booth three, Mr. Rayburn looks up from his meatloaf, and the whole diner seems to inhale at once.

June’s arm comes around my waist, firm and fast. “Low blood sugar,” she announces to the room, bright as a church bulletin. “She thinks coffee is a food group. Everybody go back to pretending you weren’t staring.” A few people laugh because June Sutton could redirect a tornado with tone alone.

She hustles me into the back office and shuts the door with her hip. The second we’re alone, her face loses the performance. “Sit.”

I sit. She kneels in front of me, one hand already on my wrist. “Dizzy?”

“A little.”

“Nauseous?”

“Always.”

“Any pain?”

“No.”

“Bleeding?”

“No.” My voice shakes on it.

June hears. Of course she hears. She squeezes my wrist once, then stands and grabs crackers from the emergency drawer. “You scared the hell out of me,” she says.

“I scared me too.”

Her mouth trembles, but she sets the crackers in my hand like she’s mad at them. “Eat.”

I eat because my sister’s fear deserves obedience.

Outside the office, the diner noise resumes, though not fully. Voices dip and rise in careful little waves. People are talking. Not cruelly, probably, which is almost worse. Concern is gossip in a clean dress around here.

June looks toward the door. “Mabel saw.”

“Mabel sees dust settle.”

“And Rayburn. And Cal Jenkins.”

I close my eyes.

“All it takes is one person saying you looked peaked,” June says softly. “Then somebody else remembers you’ve been buying ginger tea. Then somebody mentions they haven't seen you wearing anything other than a loose sweater or sweatshirt. Somewhere between the hardware store and the pharmacy, Cade hears it from a man buying picture hangers.”

The cracker turns dry in my mouth. I picture Cade standing in Rayburn Hardware, receipt in hand, while some well-meaning person drops our baby into his life between weather talk and lumber prices. My hand settles over my stomach before I can stop it.

June sees that too.

“I know,” I whisper.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Because this is getting close, Em.”