For the first time in years, my daughter looked surrounded by happiness.
But even then, I noticed something.
Mark rarely left her side.
His hand stayed near the small of her back.
At first, it looked affectionate.
Then I noticed Lauren touching her stomach repeatedly.
She had done that throughout the pregnancy.
Usually I could tell what it meant.
Sometimes it was love.
Sometimes reassurance.
That afternoon, it looked like protection.
Around four, someone called:
“Cake!”
Everyone gathered beneath the patio.
Lauren stood beside Mark.
“You ready?” he asked.
She gave him a strange look.
“I think so.”
He handed her the knife.
People raised their phones.Create Baby Registries
Lauren pressed the blade through the white frosting.
The backyard went quiet.
She made the second cut.
Then slid the cake server underneath.
Mark smiled.
Lauren lifted the slice.
Pink.
The backyard exploded.
“It’s a girl!”
People cheered.
Someone started clapping.
Lauren’s best friend screamed.
My sister grabbed my arm.
“A granddaughter!”
I smiled automatically.
Then I looked at Lauren.
My smile disappeared.
She was staring at the pink cake.
Not smiling.
Her face had gone pale.
Her lips were slightly parted.
Tears filled her eyes.
Mark wrapped his arms around her.
“We’re having a daughter.”
“I know.”
Her voice was barely audible.
Everyone assumed she was overwhelmed.
After two miscarriages and years of trying, why wouldn’t she cry?
People rushed forward.
Hugs.
Congratulations.
“You’re going to be an amazing girl mom.”
“This baby is so lucky.”Try Gourmet Desserts
Lauren smiled when people looked directly at her.
But every time someone turned away, the smile disappeared.
Something was wrong.
Then I noticed Jenna.
The baker.
She was standing near the gate.
I frowned.
I hadn’t realized she had returned.
She wasn’t smiling either.
Her arms were folded tightly across her chest.
She was staring at Mark.
Then she looked at Lauren.
Then at me.
Our eyes met.
Jenna made a tiny motion with her hand.
Come here.
I glanced at Lauren.
She was surrounded by friends.
Mark still had one arm around her.
I crossed the yard.
“What are you doing here?”
Jenna lowered her voice.
“I need to show you something.”
“What?”
“Not here.”
Every instinct in me tightened.
She led me toward the delivery van.
Then she took out her phone.
“This morning, your son-in-law came into the bakery.”
I frowned.
