McCallum Quintuplets Read Online Free Page A

She relieved Madeline of the dress, which she then shoved onto the rack. “Madeline. Sweetheart. Honey. Yes, they still make these dresses. Yes, they still sell these dresses. To teenagers. You’re thirty-five years old.”
    â€œThirty-four,” Madeline grumbled under her breath. “Maybe for only one more day, but I’m hanging on with both hands, thank you anyway.”
    â€œThirty-four, thirty-five, whatever,” April continued, taking Madeline by the elbow and steering her toward another section of the largest department store in the mall. “The point I’m trying to make is that, if you’re not either eighteen or pregnant, the time has come to say goodbye to the cutesy, little-girl look, okay?”
    Madeline cast one last look over her shoulder at therack of dresses, sighed. “Okay, but what do I tell my mother? She sends me at least ten new dresses a year.”
    â€œTell her you still want them to donate to the thrift shop run by the hospital auxiliary. Those high waistlines, those gathered skirts? Your mom puts enough material in those dresses to take a woman carrying sextuplets into her third trimester. In fact, maybe you ought to think about donating your entire wardrobe to the hospital thrift shop.”
    Madeline blinked back sudden tears. “You sound just like Ian. I swear, if that man had his way, all women would wear nothing but bikinis.”
    â€œReally? He’s a sexist?” Annabelle asked.
    â€œNo, not really. I was exaggerating,” Madeline said. “He just thinks it’s time I paid more attention to myself, that’s all, instead of taking the easy way out, which is what he calls my clothes. Which are comfortable, not to belabor the point. I don’t even have to waste time like this—shopping. You have both figured out that I hate shopping, right?”
    â€œIan said you should pay more attention to yourself?” April nodded, pulling out a soft pink silk blouse, holding up the hanger. “Sounds like a smart man. Life in a commune, working your way through college and med school, working twelve-hour days at the new unit? I know you’re busy, Madeline, but you’re not just a doctor. You’re a fun, lovely, intelligent woman. It’s about time you stopped hiding behind those yards of material.”
    There was no getting around, over or under these two women. She’d have to tell the awful truth. “I’ve got a gut,” Madeline said quietly, so quietly that Annabelle leaned closer, made her repeat what she’d said.
    â€œA gut,” Madeline said, more loudly than she’d intended. “A belly, Annabelle. I always have. There are themedical terms for it, but in layman’s terms, I’m an apple. You know—apples and pears. Pears have small waists, flat bellies, bigger hips, heavier thighs. We apples have skinny arms and legs, narrow hips, but tend to gain all our weight in our bellies, waistlines. And our busts,” she added, knowing that every drawback had at least one bonus, and her generous bust was hers.
    â€œShe says she’s an apple,” Annabelle said to April, shrugging.
    April shrugged in return. “So? I’m a pear. I’ve been waging war on my upper thighs since I was twelve. No problem. We camouflage.”
    Madeline rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?”
    â€œMadeline,” April said reasonably, “you could hide Oklahoma under that dress. We don’t need that much camouflage. We just go for short skirts—to show off your legs—and longer, more swingy tops, to hide this massive waistline you say you have. Now, what size are you?”
    Madeline tried to make her one-hundred-and-forty-pound, five-foot-six-inch frame smaller—knowing she couldn’t make it disappear. “I don’t know. I have to go larger to be able to comfortably button my waistbands, which is just another reason