2 Months 'Til Mrs. (2 'Til Series) Read Online Free

culottes that Aunt Judy made for her… to a birthday party… where everyone
else was in designer jeans. And the same words when she got that awful mullet
when she was twelve. And so many times, without the slightest hitch, even
though her face was one blaring case of acne in her teens. He was completely
biased.
    “She needs to be changed,” Lacey announced, handing
Niki off to Connor.
    “Aw, come on.”
    “I fed her. You change her.”
    “That’s not fair.”
    “Grow some boobs and I’ll gladly start changing her,”
Lacey laughed.
    “ I’ll do it,” William piped up, making them all
stop in their tracks and stare at him. Catherine wasn’t sure he had ever changed
a single diaper in his life. But he ignored their shock and awe and grabbed his
granddaughter lovingly. I’ll be in the basement,” he said, winking and taking
the diaper bag off Lacey’s shoulder. He marched out of the room with a mission
he seemed all too happy to accept.
    “But it’s too cold down—”
    Connor touched his wife’s arm and shook his head. “He
isn’t actually taking her to the basement. He just means that he’s taking a
breather from the party for a while. Niki could probably use one too.”
    Catherine watched her brother gather his wife into a
hug and suddenly it was like she no longer existed anymore. Get a room ,
she thought snarkily.
     

-3-
     
     
    Each guest was worse than the last, poking their nose
in her business or bringing up bad missteps and memories of her youth. She only
wished she’d been smart enough to jump on diaper duty when she had the chance.
Her father had been MIA for at least twenty minutes. And come to think of it,
Connor and Lacey had disappeared too, leaving her to mingle alone. She could
have done the whole alone thing back in New York without an audience.
    “Catherine Marie Hemmings.”
    Her blood ran just a few degrees colder as she took in
the vision of the old woman coming through the front door. “Mrs. Davis?” she
eked out, feeling like that same little six-year-old who used to have
nightmares about that buzzard face. Old Mrs. Davis had seemed ancient back
then, but shockingly seemed not to have aged a day since—perfectly preserved
for future generations of first graders. She always called all her students by
their full given names. Catherine remembered Francis Ballzwacker Ramone; poor
kid never had a chance…. Since when is Mrs. Davis friends with my parents?
... They probably hit it off at that parent-teacher conference when she
told them how I tucked my dress into my tights after going to the bathroom and
then traipsed coolly through the hallways giving the kindergarteners and my
whole class a peep show…. Just me and Ballzwacker—the biggest losers of
Loserville…. Although she’d heard that Ballzwacker joined the circus,
married a trapeze artist, and had three trapezing little ones, so he was doing
better than Catherine Marie Hemmings by a long shot.
    “You’re all grown up!” Mrs. Davis announced to the
room, her voice still strong thanks to regular exercise yelling at little kids
who won’t stop fidgeting in their little seats.
    Of course I’m grown up, Catherine thought
bitterly. She couldn’t help but notice that the woman had stated a mere fact,
no kind words or modifiers. Just plain grown up. It was going to be a banner
start to the New Year.
    I need a drink —something much stiffer than the
grape juice she’d been drinking. Unfortunately the “bar” was in the family
room, a minefield of guests away. She made a break for it but within mere feet
she was face-to-bosom with Mrs. Bertrand, the neighbor who’d seenher
run straight into a lamppost while playing jailbreak. Big Boobs Bertrand had been
quick to come to her aid, nursing her bloodied nose and icing the egg on her head
with a frozen bag of peas. But she’d also been quick to share the story,
telling everyone that Catherine never even swerved. Soon enough all the
neighborhood kids knew, and then it