bethany's baubles partnership

BONUS CHAPTER - VIVIEN MAYS

There’s something about being the wife of a Thomas that holds us to a higher standard. I can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, but it’s something we all feel. It’s not a pressure to be better, but there is no denying that the town still holds the Thomas name dear. All eyes are almost always on us. While I’ve adored every second of being Beck Thomas’s wife, I can’t deny the pull I feel to do something that’s all mine, just me and my own creativity, which is why I’m sweating bullets while waiting for Bethany Lowry to meet me at Sweet and Salty.

A little over a year of wedded bliss while Beck does all of the financial heavy lifting might change today—not that he cares. Beck would let me sit on the sofa reading all day if I wanted to, but I don’t. I want to do something with my life before we have kids that occupy most of it.

My proposal packet crinkles under the pressure of my grip. I lessen it and take a breath. Bethany is one of Audrey’s dearest friends. Even if my pitch to become her partner goes south, she’ll break it easy and maybe even still sell some of my pieces. My dream of making clocks and jewelry professionally could come true today. Or not…hence the sweating.

Bethany pulls open the door and steps inside, bringing the warmth from the first few days of spring with her. When she spies me in the corner booth, her smile brightens and her step speeds.

“Vivien, I’m so glad you asked to meet with me today.” She glances at the table where I’ve already made us a snack and sighs. “Thank you. I needed this today. I almost didn’t make it out of the shop, but Nick is filling in for me for an hour.”

“I’ll try to keep this short.” I wipe my palms on my pants and clear my throat. “As you know, I have a degree in business, and I’ve planned to open my own jewelry and watch store similar to yours. It’s been my dream for a long time and something I take very seriously. I know how hard you work, and I was wondering…hoping I guess…I mean…” All of my confidence and carefully practiced words disappear from my body while she stares back at me.

I take a moment to gather my composure, swallow the doubt, and sit a bit straighter.

Bethany sips her coffee and leans forward with her arms on the table. “Vivien, whatever it is you want to propose, I’m sure I’ll love it. We’re friends. Don’t worry about sounding super professional, just spit out what you want to say.”

“Uh…see, Beck thought it might be a good idea for me to talk to you about a shop. Not for me, for us. I mean, as a partnership?” At this point I’m questioning my own sanity. What am I doing? Bethany worked hard for her business, and here I am, sitting in front of her, asking her to hand over half of it to me, and for a small sum, since we can’t afford much.

Her hesitance is all I need to know that I’ve already botched this presentation. “Can you clarify what you mean?”

My body tenses further. “I have a little money saved up. It’s not a lot, but I hoped you might be interested in taking me on as a partner. Not a full partner, obviously, but maybe a…” What is it called? Once again, all thought exits my brain as Bethany stares back at me. I can’t even speak today. What made me think this brilliant and successful woman would want me in her shop as an employee, let alone part owner?

“Ah, I gotcha.” She chuckles and sips her coffee again. “It’s funny you ask me this today of all days. I’m absolutely slammed, more so every season, and Nick and I were just talking about selling the whole thing a few weeks ago.” She sits back and releases a long, heavy breath. “I don’t want to let it go, honestly. It was my lifeline for so long, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

I’m not positive where she’s going with this, so I let her go and pray I didn’t trigger a chain reaction of some sort that might blow up in my face.

“Vivien, I’d be honored to take you on as part owner. I need a break after over twenty-five years working on my own. When would you like to start this venture?”

My stomach twists on itself, but I’m not sure I can pinpoint why. This conversation is turning out far better than I could have anticipated, and yet…I feel very, very…

“Uh…can you excuse me?” I bolt from the booth and run straight for the bathroom, where I promptly lose my whole breakfast. I barely make it over the sink thanks to wobbly legs and a sudden cold sweat. When I’m sure I’ve lost my last cookie, I rinse my mouth and splash cold water on my face. The nausea isn’t gone entirely, but I feel a lot better.

Out in the bakery, Audrey has joined Bethany. When I interrupt their conversation, Audrey’s brow furrows. “Honey, are you okay? You’re so pale.”

“Uh, maybe I’m getting a stomach bug or something. I don’t feel great,” I admit.

“Oh, no. Let’s get you home and I’ll have Rose make you some soup.” Audrey stands and takes my clammy hand.

“Vivien, don’t worry about our discussion. The answer is yes, and we can absolutely work out the details once you feel better, okay?” Bethany’s huge smile imparts some comfort, but all of the sudden, owning a jewelry store is at the bottom of my list of concerns. My stomach churns again, but I manage to hold it down.

“Thank you, Bethany. I’m so sorry for this. It wasn’t professional at all, but I’ll give you a call in a day or so. Is that okay?”

“Of course. Feel better soon.” Bethany stands to go talk with Miss Rose, while Audrey leads me to the back. I drove my own car, but I can always collect it later. Besides, I’m not so sure it’s a good idea for me to drive while feeling like I was hit by a tanker truck. I don’t think I have a fever, but the nausea has me worried I might actually have food poisoning. Beck will blame the pineapple pizza for sure.

Audrey lets me rest on the way and gets me settled into bed like a proper mother, even if I am way too old to be coddled so much. After sending Beck a quick message requesting medication—all of them in case I have seven different plagues—I settle my head on my pillow for a nap…which doesn’t last long because I’m bombarded with wave after wave of ick.

When my husband comes home three hours early with ten different medicines, I’m sitting on the bathroom floor, leaning against the bathtub, exhausted. My stomach isn’t as angry with me anymore, but now my head hurts.

“Baby, what happened?” Beck sits on the floor beside me and pulls me against his chest. “You don’t feel hot or anything. Do you think the pizza last night was bad?”

“Worse than you usually think it is?” I try to tease him, but the snark just isn’t there.

He chuckles and strokes my cheek before kissing my forehead. “I got you loads of medicine, but I also got something else. Don’t be mad at me but I got to thinking…and counting…and, well…” He slides a box toward me.

A box of pregnancy tests.

Well…duh.

“Oh, my gosh. I didn’t think of that,” I whisper. Gazing up at him, eyes searching his, seeking comfort because this was not the plan. Not exactly. I mean, tons of kids are definitely in the plan, but…not yet. Or maybe they are?

“Want me to step out?” He arches his eyebrow but already knows the answer. I love him, but I am not peeing on a stick in front of him. “Your face has the answer all over it. I get it. I’m going, but I need you to know that I love you, Vivien Thomas, with everything in me. No matter what that stick ends up saying, I’m happy, okay?”

A frantic nod is all I can manage before shoving him onto his feet and out the door. I hop up, regret it instantly when my stomach warns me it’s not quite ready for such antics, and rip open the box. I’ve never been more nervous in my life, and that’s saying something considering how Beck and I got together and the whole business proposal with Bethany today.

I step into our bedroom to wait with him while a little plastic stick ticks away, determining the course of our future. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his leg bouncing and head bobbing. I know what’s playing in his head. It’s the same warm-up song he has always listened to since he’s played hockey, and now that he’s the assistant coach for the high school team, he hears it every day. It soothes him, calms him, helps him keep control.

“I love you,” I whisper in his ear.

He squeezes my hand. “Are you okay?” he asks. “I know you feel crummy, but if it’s positive, will you be okay with that?”

“Beck.” It’s the same tone I’ve used hundreds of times, the one that’s soft and makes him lift his lips in the faintest smile of hope. It says he’s being silly, that anything that comes our way is fine with me if he’s by my side, that we’re a team no matter what.

“I’m nervous. We’re married, so I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am.” He pulls me into his arms, still bouncing his leg. I bob a little and push away.

“Unless you want me to puke on your lap, you gotta stop with the—” The ding of the timer halts me mid-sentence. I look at him, and he looks down at me.

“Together?” Beck squeezes my hand and helps me to my feet. Together, we walk into the bathroom.

It’s positive. I’m pregnant.

Beck releases a strangled laugh, then a sob before he grabs me around my waist and spins me around. “I love you.” He kisses my forehead. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses my nose, my cheeks, my chin, all while professing his love for me. Every ounce of it settles in my soul, reminding me that this love we have is precious, so precious that it has given us a beautiful gift.

He sets me back on my feet and cups my cheeks with both hands. “Are you okay? Are you happy? I’m sorry if I made you sick again. I’m so excited. We’re having a baby, Vivien!”

I’ve barely had a second to let it sink in. I’m actually pregnant.

“Viv? Are…are you okay?” His tone dips.

Am I okay? Myriad emotions fill my heart, but one thing, one thought tops them all. “I hope the baby has your sweet freckles.”

He laughs again, tears streaming down his face. “We’re having a baby.”

It’s my turn to laugh. His grin is so boyish, so adorably sweet. He bounces onto the balls of his feet and hugs me again. Sheer joy bubbles from his chest, puffing his cheeks further. “I know we are,” I giggle.

“I hope the baby has your green eyes,” he says.

“Should we call our parents?” Still in his arms, I look up at him. My husband, the one who makes my heart race and stall and flutter all at once. The man who is not just my husband, but now the father of my child. Our child.

“Absolutely not. Not yet. This is for us right now, and I’m going to savor every single second of watching you glow through this like a champ. I can’t wait to see your—” He cuts himself short, cheeks bright red.

“You can’t wait to see what? Don’t bother trying to play it off now, mister. Out with it.” I manage to get my hands on my hips and present my sass front and center.

His grin, the one that used to make me so mad, then made me absolutely melt, meets my sass and amps it up a degree. He tips my chin up and kisses me, pulling me into his warmth again where I belong. Beck sighs against my lips, reminding me that he feels the same. We’re both so in love, so at home that sometimes we forget there might be troubles in the world. Sometimes they might hit us, but right now, wrapped up in him, I’m safer than I’ve ever been.

He pulls back just enough to whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait to see you grow with our child, and I hope you know that’s a compliment.” He straightens and looks down at me, his hands rubbing up and down my arms. “When you first told me you love me, I thought it was the best day of my life. Then we got married, and I thought that was the best day of my life. But this? This is for sure the best day of my life. We’re making a family.”

He's breathless with wonder and awe, and I think he’s right. This is the best day of my life, too. And I have a feeling I’m going to want to relive it again and again as we keep building this little family of ours.