Page 6 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
“The Buddha came to me in a dream and instructed me to come here with Howard.”
Georgie pursed her lips. “You dreamed about the Buddha?”
Her mother’s expression grew pensive. “I dreamed about a turtle, but he had a message for me from Buddha.”
Georgie stifled a chuckle as Jordan cleared his throat to most likely abstain from laughing as well. But maybe turtle Buddha was doing her a favor. If she were pregnant—not that she believed she was—her mother would insist she partake in some kind of prenatal psychic seminar.
“How long will you be visiting India?” Jordan asked, blessedly shifting gears.
“Twelve months,” her mother answered.
“A year?” she questioned, her voice going up an octave.
“Yes, pumpkin.” Her mother sighed. “I wish your father hadn’t insisted we send you to public school. Maybe you’d have learned that.”
That yearlong break wasn’t looking so bad.
“I’m fully aware twelve months equals a year, Mom.”
“Because I told you so,” Lorraine Vanderdinkle replied, then sighed again as she turned to her husband, her many crystals clapping together. “You see, Howard, a mother’s job is never done.”
“What will you be doing for a year?” Jordan asked.
“Beginning the journey to enlightenment and harnessing our chi at an exclusive five-star retreat cut off from civilization,” she answered.
Howard leaned forward. “And I’ve invested in a few companies near the retreat, so if you need anything, you can always contact my office. They’ll know how to get ahold of me.”
Her mother raised her index finger. “But only for something very important. Howard and I are committed to pursuing complete spiritual awakening, and my energist felt I needed to continue developing my psychic energy reading abilities.”
The hint of a grin pulled at the corners of her stepfather’s mouth. How he fell madly in love with her crazy train of a mother was something she’d never fully understand.
Still, the man she’d remembered from her childhood, who always seemed to be working, looked at ease. Lorraine Vanderdinkle truly was the yin to his yang.
Her mother’s forehead produced a slight spasm—the Botox equivalent of her surprised face. “I almost forgot, pumpkin! You and Jordan will need to take over a few of our charity duties while we’re gone. A gala here, a benefit there, maybe a planning meeting or two. I’ll have my assistant Nicolette get you the details.”
Benefits, galas, and planning meetings? Georgie swallowed hard. They had a lot on their plate already, but how could she say no?
“I thought you fired Nicolette because she was a Sagittarius?” she queried.
“I have a new Nicolette! She’s a Libra!” her mother answered, as if hiring someone based on their horoscope made complete sense.
Jordan leaned in. “Howard, Lorraine, we should probably tell you that—”
Without missing a beat, Georgie angled the phone away from her husband and filled the frame with her face. She was not about to allow him to disclose the possibility of a bun in the oven—not when they weren’t one hundred percent sure.
And with the way she knew her mother would fuss over a pregnancy, it was in everyone’s best interest to keep this under wraps as long as possible.
“Jordan was going to say that India sounds magical!” she announced, cutting him off in game show hostess mode. “We wish you all the best. Don’t worry! We’ve got everything under control.”
“All right, then! Kiss, kiss! Namaste!” her mother trilled as Howard waved goodbye, and the screen went blank.
Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to tell them?”
She sat back against the hard, plastic seat, now wishing the whole damn toilet was padded. “Tell them what?”
Jordan cocked his head to the side. He was no fool. She knew what he was thinking but feigned naive.
“We don’t know anything yet.”
