The Baby Bonanza. Jacqueline Diamond

      “No, they haven’t.” Hastily, Zora shielded the relish tray from his attempt to grab a carrot. “Hands off!”

      “Evidence found in caves throughout northern Europe indicates that Neanderthals shunned folding chair covers as a sign of weakness,” Lucky said. “And why so stingy with the veggies?”

      “I’m still arranging these. Go eat a corn chip.” Zora indicated a bag set out to be transferred into a large bowl.

      “I’m a vegetarian.”

      “Corn is a vegetable.”

      “Corn chips do not occur in nature,” he responded. “Just one carrot. Pretty please.”

      She flipped it toward him. He caught it in midair.

      “Try the closet in my bathroom for the covers,” Karen suggested to Lucky. “Top shelf.”

      “I have permission to enter the inner sanctum?” he asked.

      “It expires in sixty seconds.”

      “Okay, okay.” He paused. “Before I run off, there’s one little thing I should mention about today’s guest list.”

      Zora released an impatient breath. “What?”

      “I invited Betsy.”

      “You didn’t!” Keeping her ex-mother-in-law in the dark at work was one thing, but around here the babies’ paternity was no secret.

      Karen turned toward Lucky, knife in hand. “Tell me you’re joking.”

      He grimaced. “Sorry. Spur-of-the-moment thing. But your motto is the more the merrier, and besides, Betsy’s a widow. If she’s interested in renting a room, that would solve all our problems.” With a carroty crunch, off he went.

      “Unbelievable,” Karen said.

      If she hadn’t been so huge, Zora might have given chase. She could easily have strangled Lucky at that moment. But then they’d have to find two new housemates.

      “I’d say the cat’s about to claw its way out of the bag,” Karen observed. “Might as well seize the bull by the horns, or is that too many animal metaphors?”

      “Considering the size of the rat we live with, I guess not,” Zora growled.

      Karen smiled. “Speaking of rats, if you’d rather not confront Andrew-the-rodent yourself, don’t forget you can hire Edmond to do it.” Edmond Everhart, their former roommate, Melissa’s husband, had been Zora’s divorce attorney.

      “That’ll only create more trouble.” Zora scraped the onion dip from the mixing bowl into a container on the relish tray. “Andrew’ll put me through the wringer.”

      “If that’s your only reason for not telling him about the babies, I’d rate its validity at about a three on a scale of ten.” Karen trimmed the crust from a sandwich.

      Zora dropped the spoon into the mixing bowl with a clunk. “He’s the only man I ever loved. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

      “Zora, what benefit of what doubt?” Karen retorted. “He dumped you in high school, married someone else, then cheated on her with you after he ran into you at your class reunion. Let’s not forget that he then cheated on you with what’s-her-name from Hong Kong. Why on earth would you entertain the fantastical notion that Andrew will ever transform into a loving husband and father?”

      With a pang, Zora conceded that that was exactly what she did wish for. While her rational mind sided with Karen, the infants stirring inside her with a series of kicks and squirms obviously missed their father. So did Zora.

      “It can happen,” she said. “Look at Melissa and Edmond. Three years after their divorce, they fell in love again.”

      “They’d quarreled about having children. Neither of them cheated on the other,” Karen persisted. “Andrew can’t be trusted, ever.”

      She spoke with the ferocity of a divorcée who’d survived an abusive marriage. It had taken more than a decade for Karen to trust a man again. She and their housemate, Rod, were still easing into their relationship.

      “People can change.” Despite a reluctance to bring up her family, Zora wanted Karen to understand. “Did I mention I have a twin?”

      “Really?” Leaning against the counter, Karen folded her arms. “Identical or fraternal?”

      “Identical.” Zora wasn’t about to reveal the whole story, just the important part. “But we quarreled, and we aren’t in touch anymore. All I know of her is what Mom passes along.” Their mother, who lived in Oregon, loved sharing news.

      “Go on.” After a glance at the clock, Karen resumed her food preparation.

      “Nearly ten years ago, Zady ran off with a married man.” Zora inhaled as deeply as she could, considering the pressure on her lungs from the pregnancy. “They live in Santa Barbara. He split with his wife and now he’s devoted to Zady. They have a beautiful house and a couple of kids.”

      “Was there a wedding in there?” Karen asked dubiously.

      “I’m sure there was, although she didn’t invite me.” The rift had been bitter, and there’d been no move toward reconciliation on either side. In fact, her mother said Zady had chuckled when she’d learned about Zora’s divorce.

      “So the guy married her, and you believe that if lightning struck your twin, it can strike you, too?” Karen murmured.

      Zora’s throat tightened. “Why not?”

      “Because Betsy’s about to arrive with her antennae on high alert. If I’m any judge, that woman’s dying to be a grandmother.”

      “And she’ll be a terrific one.” The elder Mrs. Raditch did all the right grandmotherly things, such as baking and crocheting, a skill she’d taught Zora. “But...”

      “You’re running out of buts,” Karen warned. “Unless you count Lucky’s.”

      “I don’t!”

      “The way you guys battle, you’re almost like an old married couple.”

      “We’re nothing like a married couple, old or otherwise.” Zora could never be interested in a man with so little class. Outside work, he flaunted his muscles in sleeveless T-shirts and cutoffs. While she didn’t object if someone had a small tattoo, his body resembled a billboard for video games. On the right arm, a colorful dragon snaked and writhed, while on the left, he displayed a buxom babe wearing skimpy armor and wielding a sword.

      Whenever she pictured Andrew, she saw him in the suit and tie he always wore as an international business consultant. He had tousled blond hair, a laser-sharp mind, sky-blue eyes, and when he trained his headlight smile on her, Zora understood why some poor fools became addicted to drugs, because the euphoria was irresistible.

      At the image, vague intentions coalesced into a firm decision. “Andrew’s the man I married. This...this liaison with what’s-her-name is an aberration. Once the kids are born and he holds them in his arms, what man wouldn’t love his own son and daughter?” And their mother.

      Even Zora’s own father, a troubled man who’d cheated on her mom, had stuck around while his kids had grown up. Well, mostly—there’d been separations and emotional outbursts that left painful memories. But there’d been tender times, too, including a laughter-filled fishing trip, and one Christmas when her father had dressed up as Santa Claus and showered them with gifts.

      She longed for her children to experience a father like that. With Andrew’s charm, he could easily provide such unforgettable moments.

      For a minute, the only sound was the chopping of a knife against a cutting board as Karen trimmed crusts. Finally she said, “So you plan to hold it together