The Things I Do For You by Mary Carter Page B

hit its mark. She wouldn’t feel guilty; he knew how much she wanted a baby. Definitely not. Since when was it so definite?
    “A lighthouse?” Greg said. Brad, who seemed to still be stewing over the word “little,” didn’t say a word. So Bailey filled them in, trying to impart the news with the neutrality of a journalist, sticking to just the facts. Allissa reacted like a cheerleader. She squealed. She clapped her hands. She leaned forward and stared at Brad as if he were the only man in the room.
    “You bought her a lighthouse!” She playfully hit Greg. “Greg’s only bought me jewelry, and trips, and shoes, and clothes, and cars.”
    “He didn’t buy it for me,” Bailey said. He bought it behind my back. Big difference.
    “I bought it for us,” Brad said.
    “It’s so symbolic!” Allissa cried. Bailey was surprised Allissa even knew the word “symbolic.” She felt as if she were back in the book group. If only Jesse were here to commiserate with. Funny, she used to commiserate with Brad. But that was before his angelic take on everything.
    “Has anyone read Clown Down ?” Bailey said, hoping someone would pick up on her sarcasm. But nobody did. Allissa and Brad continued chatting about the lighthouse.
    “I take it a lighthouse wasn’t your first choice,” Greg said, once again addressing Bailey.
    “Well,” Bailey said. She tried to sound upbeat. “I like the idea of having a getaway. Like a vacation lighthouse. I’m just not so sure about a bed-and-breakfast. I think we should ease into it. Keep our condo as our main residence—”
    “No, no, no,” Allissa said. “Not if you’re starting a business. You have to throw yourselves into it body and soul.” Bailey suddenly wanted to throw her. And who cared about the soul, just tossing her skinny body across the room would suffice.
    “Exactly,” Brad said.
    “Like we say in the model biz, every calorie counts!” Allissa grinned and Brad grinned and Bailey was saved by the arrival of dinner. Bailey dug into her meal with gusto. She would make every calorie count all right! She would stuff herself until it hurt, anything to take her mind off this hideous evening. Allissa, she noticed, sniffed everything, but ingested next to nothing.
    “We’re going to come,” Allissa said. “We’re going to stay at your lighthouse.”
    “Really?” Bailey said. From the way they were throwing money around tonight, it was the best idea she’d heard so far.
    “Totally,” Allissa said. “And we know so many people, don’t we, Greggy?”
    “Can’t argue with that,” Greg said.
    “We’re going to totally pimp your lighthouse,” Allissa said.
    “Classy,” Bailey said. Another look from Brad. Wasn’t he the one who said how phony the rich behaved? Why was she getting all the looks?
    Dessert was richer than the main course, something Bailey didn’t think was possible. Glasses of port were served alongside it.
    “I’m going to tell him,” Allissa shouted. She sniffed her dessert, then pushed it away. Greg shook his head slightly, but Allissa was already leaning into Brad. “When I was a little girl,” she said, “I was touched by an angel.”
    “Touched?” Bailey said. “Like, fondled?”
    “Bailey!” Brad said. It was a joke, but she and Greg were the only ones who laughed. Bailey openly, but Greg tried to hide his by coughing into one of the red linen napkins. Too much champagne had loosened Bailey’s tongue. She turned to Brad.
    “What’s with all the reprimanding you’ve been doing tonight?” she said. “Am I embarrassing you?”
    “Bails,” Brad said. “Please.” Bailey couldn’t believe it. He was embarrassed by her. In the few hours they’d been there, Allissa had shrieked, clapped, sniffed her food like a hound dog, said “preggers” and “pimp” at the top of her voice, and yet Brad was embarrassed by Bailey.
    “I’m sorry, Allissa,” Bailey said. “Please continue.” Nothing like a little angel incest