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

spread through school, and then town, like
a bad case of head lice, making her Peabrain Hemmings—too stupid to avoid a
lamppost. Her parents took her to the doctor over that incident to find out if
she was blind or suicidal. She’d worn glasses and now contacts ever since,
which promptly put an end to her blurred vision. But it took years to overcome
Peabrain. Not until seventh grade was she free of that nickname, only to fall
right into notoriety all over again as Cats Domino, the girl who singlehandedly
knocked down every last music stand in the orchestra room. In her defense, Breck
Taylor had just spoken to her —asked if she could move out of his way so he
could get to his locker (which she did). No self-respecting girl in the entire
school could have kept her equilibrium after that.
    She craned her neck around Bertrand’s chest; sure she
would see her old orchestra teacher, Mr. Savoy, somewhere nearby as well. Or
another witness to the collective embarrassments of Catherine Marie Hemmings. It
was like she was caught in a twisted Old-Home pinball machine, getting flippered
and batted from one bad memory to another. She couldn’t step anywhere without
another stumble and fall down memory lane—and man was she thirsty what with all
the gabbing!
    Suddenly she spied a narrow winding path between the
minglers, the kitchen doorway in view on the other end. If she could just make
it there she could dip into the cooking sherry, if her mother even had such a thing.
Worst case, her mother might commandeer her time to help out washing dishes or
preparing platters, and even that was better than suffering in her past
faux pas.
    Catherine surged forward, ducking slightly, bobbing
and weaving, carefully averting her eyes from any wandering contact. She was
almost to the foyer, the light from the kitchen beckoning from beyond—
    “Little Catherine Marie!” Aunt Judy cooed, weaving
through the crowd from the other direction with a cocktail in hand and Uncle Al
on her heels, blocking the only exit. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing
without a husband on your arm?” She shook her head sadly, tsk-tsk-ing, and Al dutifully
joined in.
    Catherine knew the skit well enough, having been
through it every time she’d seen them ever since their youngest had married off.
Brenda was coming up on her fourth wedding anniversary this spring, and she
knew this because Aunt Judy made sure to keep a count of the years in her
annual Christmas letter. Brenda was three years younger than her hopeless cousin,
and as far as Aunt Judy was concerned, her daughter was a model of perfection
(Brenda’s small shoplifting problem in high school paled in comparison to
Catherine’s continued singlehood).  
    “Just haven’t found the time,” she answered dolefully,
as if she too found it to be a shame, playing along because they were old and
likely on their last legs, what with Aunt Judy’s drinking and Uncle Al’s
two-pack-a-day habit.
    “I just hope that you don’t wait too long,” Aunt Judy
cautioned. “I was talking to my Brenda about—”
    “Where is Brenda anyway?” Catherine asked,
making a show of searching the room for her.
    “Oh, she wasn’t feeling well this evening… actually,
quite a bit recently.”
    “What a shame,” Catherine said dutifully. “I hope it’s
nothing too serious.”
    “Oh, nothing like that!” Aunt Judy guffawed, sloshing
her drink dangerously near the rim in her excitement. “Brenda is pregnant, you
know.”
    “No, I didn’t know,” she said blandly. Didn’t
happen to put that in your newsletter. Wanted to throw that directly into
people’s faces and see their reactions.
    “Oh, well, she is. And she has had morning sickness—morning,
noon, and night. I keep telling her that it must be twins!” She was downright gluttonous
with the news. 
    “Oh, isn’t that wonderful.” Catherine tried to limit
the sour twist on her face.
    Pregnant! Twins! Seriously? Brenda used to eat her
own boogers and