not discreet, and besides, Angi was showing to the point that her pregnancy would soon be undeniable. She and Muriel had drifted apart in the last two patrols, but they had been close friends at one time, and Angi would always be grateful to her for showing her the ropes when she first arrived, all the things a clueless new navy wife needed help with, from getting a military ID card to how to shop in the Navy Exchange. Back in those days, they both often talked about how they wanted to have a child when the time was right—and how the time seemed like it would never be right. Muriel had withdrawn since then, and rarely attended any of the social functions that brought the wardroom wives together, so they rarely spoke anymore. Muriel’s absence was accompanied by the predictable rumors of trouble in their marriage. But Angi decided she still wanted Muriel to be one of the first people to know about her baby, and that she would tell her in person.
She called ahead but Muriel hadn’t answered, so she took a chance and hopped on the ferry anyway. Even after three years, the Washington State Ferries had not lost their novelty, and she loved drinking her latte (decaf now) and watching the scenery from a window seat, hard to believe the ride you could get for a six bucks. There were days, and especially nights, when the thought of pregnancy scared Angi very much, most often in the form of her wondering if she was up to the task. But there were more days like this, when she was excited beyond words, happy to be pregnant, happy that she and Danny were doing this. She felt the ferry rumble as the big engines reversed; they were pulling into Edmonds.
She disembarked and made the quick walk through the ferry terminal into the cute streets of Edmonds. Coffee shops, crafty boutiques, a music store that was somehow surviving the age of digital music. A few nice restaurants that were still closed because of the early hour. She thought with a brief pang of loneliness how nice it would be to eat dinner there with Danny, watching the ferries come and go.
Soon she was at the door to Muriel’s condo; she could feel the effect of the pregnancy in the short walk, she felt more winded than she should have been. Just as she was getting ready to knock on the door, it flew open, and she saw Muriel, looking completely shocked and exhausted, standing in the doorway, the room behind her filled with cardboard boxes.
“Muriel?”
“Angi? Oh my God…” She put her hands over her mouth.
“Are you moving?” she asked, stating the obvious.
Muriel shook her head, and started to motion her in. “What am I thinking…there’s no where to sit. Let’s go get some coffee. Or maybe some wine.”
I can’t have either, thought Angi, but she decided to wait. It seemed they both had big news to share.
• • •
They went to Waterfront Coffee Company, an old hangout, and it made Angi remember how much time the two of them used to spend together, and how long it had been. At the counter, Muriel ordered a double shot of espresso, and Angi ordered a decaf latte.
“Decaf?” Muriel said. “It’s only ten o’clock.”
Angi smiled, and pulled her hands down to her hips, pulling her oversized windbreaker tight across her belly.
“Oh my God!” said Muriel, and her face finally brightened, looking something like the Muriel she used to know, optimistic and always enthusiastic. “How long?”
“Almost three months,” she said. “You’re almost the first person here I’ve told. I had to talk to Cindy to get the ball rolling on some of the insurance stuff.”
“Well if Cindy knows, I’m surprised I haven’t heard yet.” The heavily pierced employee handed them their coffees across the counter, and they found an isolated table in the back.
They spoke at length about the pregnancy: the due date, the morning sickness, the odds (unlikely) that Danny would be by her side at the birth. Finally the conversation hesitated and Angi