A Vineyard Celebration

Chapter 1

The best day of Amanda’s life was also the worst for her career. She went into labor and lost her sense of self in one fell swoop.

Amanda felt her first contraction at the Sheridan House. She’d heaved herself over a cushioned porch chair with a bowl of popcorn and a large bottle of water to watch the seagulls caw over the sound. Max, now three, terrorized the yard in front of the porch, whacking anything he could with a stick, including trees, stones, and the porch railing. Amanda had agreed to watch him while Audrey finished a big story for a magazine upstairs. Being the size of a beached whale meant she couldn’t be as hands-on as Max wanted. “Auntie Amanda!” he called many times. “Come play!”

That was when the contraction shot through her. It was like someone reached into her body and squeezed as tightly as they could. She gasped and winced and waited. Although she’d already read sixteen baby books about labor, delivery, and the first few weeks of childcare, her mind went blank. She wasn’t ready for this!

Audrey heard her from upstairs and burst out through the back door. “Is it happening?”

The contraction faded just then. More were around the corner, though. Amanda could sense it.

“What was it they said?” Amanda muttered. “We go to the hospital when the contractions are how far apart?”

Why couldn’t Amanda remember a single fact about this huge momentous occasion? She was Amanda Harris. She’d graduated at the top of her glass at Rutgers Law School. She could speed-read at a 90 percent comprehension rate. Why had this biological process destroyed her intellect?

Audrey wasn’t used to Amanda not knowing things. “Um? I think like five minutes apart?”

“Didn’t you already do this? Why don’t you remember?” Amanda asked, then hated herself for snapping. Fear was a horrible emotion. It made you into a monster.

Immediately, she added, “I’m sorry. I’m just scared.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Audrey hurried down the steps to pick up Max and take him back inside to prop him in front of the television. She returned with Amanda’s favorite baby book about labor and delivery, Fig Newtons, and her cell phone.

“You should keep working,” Amanda rasped. “You have a deadline.”

“So do you,” Audrey shot back with a laugh. “And yours is more important than mine.”

A few minutes after the third contraction rattled through Amanda, she got ahold of her husband. Sam was the manager at the Sunrise Cove Inn. Although it was only April, tourist season loomed over them, ever approaching, and he had many plans for the upcoming season that kept him at the inn for long hours. “I want to get as much done as I can before the baby comes,” he’d said many times.

When Sam learned Amanda was in labor, his voice jumped up an octave and fell back down. “Okay! Okay. It’s okay. We’re going to have a baby, Amanda! I love you so much!”

Amanda beamed and winced and brought her hands into fists. This was what they wanted. They were building their family.

“I’ll wrap everything up here and come pick you up,” Sam promised.

Amanda thanked him, put down the phone, then squeezed Audrey’s hand so hard during the next contraction that Audrey turned the color of a cucumber.

“Dang, Amanda. Do you lift weights?” Audrey quipped as the contraction faded.

Amanda sputtered with relief after the wave of pain. “You better be glad I don’t.”

Up at the hospital, Amanda was given a beautiful room with a view of the Vineyard Sound. It was early afternoon, and the April light shimmered across the water and lit up the swell of grass outside. Nurses buzzed in and out to make sure she was comfortable and checked her stats. Sam was all set up beside her, smiling goofily between contractions. Amanda’s mother, Susan, arrived not long after that, looking more frantic than Amanda had seen her in years. It took a great deal to rattle Susan Sheridan. Childbirth was no joke. Amanda was a realist, and she knew things went wrong all the time. She also knew that because it was her first, labor could last ten, fifteen, or even up to twenty-four hours. She tried to think of it like a marathon. She had to pace herself.

Aunt Christine and Aunt Lola came up to the hospital soon after. They were ladened with snacks and drinks, smiling prettily. Christine carried her toddler Mia on her hip and said very nice things about labor, like, “It’ll be a breeze for you, Amanda. You’re so strong.” Amanda didn’t believe her at all, but it was still nice to hear. The overwhelming love and support in the Sheridan family was unmatched elsewhere. Sometimes, it was difficult for Amanda to remember the time “before.” Before Susan returned to Martha’s Vineyard to make amends with Grandpa Wes, they’d learned Grandpa Wes hadn’t been the one to have anything to do with Grandma Anna passing so long ago. Before the family had fallen into the warm embrace of countless dinners, celebrations, weddings, and births.

Sometime before six that evening, Amanda did something stupid. She looked at her phone.

In her inbox was an official-looking email from the Massachusetts Board of Bar Overseers. Amanda frowned. Was this really the time to read this?

“Your brother sends his love,” Amanda’s mother said from the window, where she sorted a few bouquets that others had brought to brighten up the room. “I’m sure they’ll come out to visit this month. Everyone will want to meet the new baby!”

Amanda’s heart thudded. “Yeah. Can’t wait to see him.”

She clicked on the email and read:

Dear Attorney Amanda Harris,

It has come to our attention that you have violated the state-mandated rules that ensure all attorneys in the State of Massachusetts uphold their commitment to law and morality above all things.

We have decided to suspend your license to practice law for the time being. This is subject to reassessment after a period of twelve months.

Regards,

Massachusetts Board of Bar Overseers

Amanda gasped and dropped her phone just as another contraction swelled over her belly and across her lower back. The agony and confusion created a perfect storm. When the contraction subsided, she burst into tears and scrunched her face.

“Honey! It’s okay!” Susan cried. She wrapped her arms around Amanda and cradled her hair. “I know you’re scared, but you’re healthy. The baby’s healthy. And everyone you love is right here.”

All Amanda could think about right now was the tremendous amount of energy, time, and worry she’d spent on the law. She’d worked tirelessly through undergrad to follow in her parents’ footsteps. The admittance to Rutgers Law School had fit securely within the story she was telling herself, one in which her ex-fiancé and Amanda got married, had babies, and worked as a criminal justice lawyer in Newark.

Last year, she’d begun taking her own clients. Everything had gone smoothly. Almost everything.

“It’s not that,” Amanda gasped. “I mean, it is. I’m terrified of labor and delivery and all the pain that’s coming. Don’t get me wrong.” She dried her face with the bedsheet. Was she too embarrassed to show Susan the email? Was it proof Amanda wasn’t good enough to work at her mother’s law firm?

“Just look,” Amanda said, handing her mother the phone.

Susan read the email. Her face echoed confusion, then surprise, then shock, then anger. She glowered.

“It’s that kid, isn’t it?” Susan spat.

Amanda filled her lungs and held her breath. She felt another contraction around the corner and gripped the bedsheets to brace herself.

“His parents,” Susan said. “Those uber-rich, old-moneyed Nantucketers. They were always so keen to brag that they knew the governor. That he came over for dinner sometimes.” Susan’s face was blood red. She burst to her feet, still clutching Amanda’s phone. “They can’t get away with this,” she said. “They are entirely outside the law, asking the governor to pull strings like this. They’re playing this like mobsters.”

Sam returned with a cup of coffee and a bag of croissants. Sensing the shift in mood, he stalled in the doorway and blinked at Susan, then Amanda with confusion. A contraction wrapped around Amanda’s back and made her feel genuinely possessed by a demon for the span of it. She felt the baby clambering for light. She wanted to tell the baby, “Not now. I have so much to deal with.”

“What did I miss?” Sam asked after the contraction faded.

“Nothing,” Amanda said, not wanting to get into it. “Mom’s just trying to distract me.”

Susan looked grim. Her chin quivered.

Amanda had read numerous books written by and for working mothers about how to juggle their professional careers with motherhood. How to ensure you don’t get left behind in the workforce when you have a baby. How to maintain emotional connections with your children when you can’t always be there. “Women can have it all in 2024,” an essay said, “but just not everything at the same time. It takes balance. Organization.” And that was something Amanda knew about herself. Generally, she was organized and didn’t make mistakes.

But this situation was much bigger than her. And she had no idea if her career would survive.