Bundle of Joy? by Ariella Papa

knew when to take things seriously.
    “I’m working on it,” I lied, as the image of Torrisi in his giant Ghostbuster-type backpack flashed through my head.
    “How was the trip?” Maura said, after she’d kissed everyone and we’d loaded our junk into the Jeep. Maura pawned the car keys off on Raj. She hated driving because she had trouble staying focused on anything for too long.
    “Your daughter hurled,” Raj said.
    Maura looked back at Jamie and raised an eyebrow.
    “I don’t know, Mom, but I think this could be it.”
    Maura gave a little yelp and Jamie laughed.
    “We haven’t taken any tests yet,” Raj said.
    “We’re going to do that tonight,” Jamie added, sounding defensive, even though Raj was just being practical.
    “Are you late, honey?” Maura asked.
    “No, but her twat’s hot,” I interjected, knowing that Maura would enjoy that.
    Maura yelped again and threw her head back, laughing, so her big hat fell into my lap. “What does that mean?”
    “My basal temperature, Mom.” Jamie sounded as if this was something everyone should know.
    I wondered if, perhaps, every normal woman did. Was this something else I had missed out on thanks to my uptight, old world mother?
    “Jamie, honey, what the hell are you talking about?” Maura asked, turning completely in her seat and unwittingly reassuring me.
    “My temperature—you know, to chart my fertility.”
    Maura looked at me and I shrugged. It was an old routine we had.
    “I have a special thermometer.”
    “Well,” Maura said, looking really surprised. “I never heard of anything like that. A special thermometer.”
    “It’s pink,” Raj said.
    “It’s pink?” I asked, squinting at Jamie.
    “Well, yeah. It’s for fertility.”
    Was it suddenly a given that everything for fertility was pink? What kind of cult was Jamie getting involved in?
    Just then we pulled up to the summer house. Compared to some of the other houses on the island, it wasn’t much, but to me the four bedrooms, three bathrooms and front porch were heaven.
    “Ana and Crystal are already here. Don’t say anything, Jamie, but they’ve already grabbed the big guest room. You and Raj will have to take the pullout.”
    Jamie pouted a little. I always got the guest room with the daybed. If someone else wanted to crash in there, they could. Before she met Crystal, Ana used to.
    “What about when Mike gets here?” Jamie asked.
    “Well, so far it seems that he’s flying solo and will get the basement guest room.” Maura winked at me.
    Jamie smiled, and because of her delicate condition I took her bags out of the car and up the steps. Crystal, Ana and Mr. Jacobs were sitting on the porch. They made quite a picture. For all of Maura’s flamboyance, Mr. Jacobs was a quiet solid rock. I winced imagining the kinds of things Crystal had said in his presence. Not that she was crass, she was just kind of self-obsessed and she never stopped talking.
    “Hey,” I said, putting down the bags and hugging them.
    “Margaritas are in the fridge,” Mr. Jacobs said. “Just worry about the bags later. I’ll bring them up.”
    “Just water for me,” Jamie said, clearly hinting.
    I wasn’t sure that she should be telling everyone about this yet. But she didn’t even have the chance to elaborate, because Crystal heard Raj telling Mr. Jacobs that the water was rough.
    “Rough,” Crystal said. “You wanna talk about rough. We took the Montauk ferry this morning and I swear I lost twenty pounds in the toilet.”
    Crystal also liked to tell you things you didn’t want to hear. Her allergy to wheat was one topic she went on about non-stop. Drinking only made the endless chatter worse. And she liked booze and cigarettes. It was a good thing there was no wheat in either of those things.
    I went to the kitchen to pour some drinks and Ana followed me. I refilled her glass.
    “That’s a jones about the fire, huh?” she asked as we went back to the porch.
    “Yeah, it was really