“Thank God you called,” Tully said. “This was the week from hell. They’ve had me traveling to every armpit town in the state. Last week I interviewed a guy in Cheney who’s built a truck that runs on wood. I kid you not. He has a stove in the bed that’s the size of an aircraft carrier and it takes a half a cord a week. I could barely see the damn truck through the black smoke it belched out, and he wanted me to report that he’d discovered the future. Tomorrow I’m supposed to go to Lynden to interview some Hutterite chick who won thirty-two blue ribbons at the fair. Yippee. Oh, and last week—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Tully’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Holy shit . . .” Tully leaned back in her seat, looking stunned. “I thought you were on the pill.”

“I am. And I’ve never missed one.”

“Pregnant. Wow. What did Johnny say?”

“I haven’t told him yet.”

“What are you going to do?” The question was heavy, weighed down as it was by the unspoken option.

“I don’t know.” Kate looked up, met Tully’s gaze. “But I know what I’m not going to do.”

Tully stared at her for a long time, saying nothing. In those amazingly expressive dark eyes, Kate saw a parade of emotions—disbelief, fear, sadness, worry, and finally, love. “You’ll be a great mother, Katie.”

She felt the start of tears. It was what she wanted; now, here, for the first time she dared to admit it to herself. That was what a best friend did: hold up a mirror and show you your heart. “He’s never said he loved me, Tully.”

“Oh. Well . . . You know Johnny.”

With that, Kate felt the past rear up between them. She knew Tully was feeling it, too, this thing they tried so hard to forget: their shared knowledge of John Ryan. “You’re like him,” she finally said. “How will he feel when he finds out?”

“Trapped.”

It was exactly what Kate had told herself. “So what do I do?”

“You’re asking me? The woman who can’t keep a goldfish alive for more than a week?” Tully laughed; it sounded only the tiniest bit bitter. “You go home and tell the man you love that he’s going to be a dad.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Tully reached across the table, taking her hand. “Trust him, Katie.”

She knew it was the best advice she could get. “Thanks.”

“Now let’s talk about the important shit, like names. You don’t have to name her after me. Tallulah sort of sucks. No wonder dopehead picked it, but my middle name is Rose. That’s not so bad . . .”