A Nantucket Christmas Reunion

Jane and Brick Three

It was the weekend of the Nantucket Christmas Stroll.

The Coast Guard had hung an enormous Christmas wreath on the Brant Point Lighthouse.

The small wooden Killen dory, fancied up with a miniature, brightly lit Christmas tree, bobbed in the cold sheltered waters of the Easy Street Basin.

The few boats anchored in the harbor twined twinkling lights up their masts.

Short fat evergreens paraded up and down the town sidewalks, wrapped with lights and handmade decorations—Popsicle stick stars, seashells, and sandcastles from the elementary school kids.

And dog treats, catnip mice, and tiny bags of birdseed decorated by the animal shelter.

And orange life-saver rings, wooden buoys, ropes tied in clove hitch, bowline, and reef knots, with a sign saying, Wear Your Life Jackets!

came from the Coast Guard. Shop windows gleamed with winter scenes of snowmen and reindeer and presents wrapped in foil.

Wreaths hung on shop doors and the air smelled of cinnamon, salt, and hot buttered rum.

Also, they’d just returned from the doctor’s office.

Jane said, “The children arrive tonight,” and her voice shook just a little.

“When do you want to tell them?” Brick Three asked. Reaching over, he took her hand in his.

“I don’t want to spoil Stroll weekend.” Jane unsnapped her seatbelt and shifted around so she could face her husband. How very odd, she suddenly felt shy with Brick Three, as if they had only just met. She knew she was blushing.

Brick Three was concerned. “Why would the news spoil the weekend?”

Jane tried to gather her thoughts. “I may be overly sensitive, but our Stroll party has always been about the kids. We didn’t even have the first one until Lydia was seven.” She nodded her head, reflecting. “That year Florie was six and Lucas was five.”

“We couldn’t afford to have it until then,” Brick reminded her.

“True. But the party has always been for the kids and their friends and their friends’ parents—”

“—and our friends and my father and mother and their friends,” Brick added.

“We do invite a lot of people,” Jane agreed.

“But I understand.” Brick Three gently touched Jane’s cheek. “Jane, our kids are grown up now. They’re all in college. Lydia gets her master’s and Florie graduates this spring. Only a few months away. Lucas is a junior. They’re—what’s the word? They’re launched.”

When Brick Three touched her cheek, Jane felt like a girl again, tingling with emotions and sensations she thought she’d forgotten.

Her pregnancy—this baby—had brought them closer in the past week than they had been for years.

Not that they hadn’t been happy with each other.

They’d just been so busy. Brick Three ran his family’s insurance agency—with his seventy-six-year-old father looming over his shoulder.

Jane worked on several town organizations and remained on call to help Brick Jr., Brick Three’s father, and his new wife, Beatrice.

All that was wonderful, and life was good—and then Jane visited her doctor and suddenly life was getting even better—and definitely more complicated.

Jane shook herself into a more positive mood.

“They are launched. Lydia will work for one of the Golden’s best hotels, although who knows where she’ll be placed and when she’ll be able to come home.

Lucas will work at our company when he graduates but that’s not for two years.

Still, he’ll probably live with us. So, this will affect him. ”

Brick Three nodded. “True. And Florie might be jealous. She says she wants to work for a large corporation and travel but keep Nantucket as her home base.”

Jane smiled. “Well, then…”

“You’re thinking the two younger ones might end up living with us on the island?”

“We can’t blame them for wanting to live here. There’s no place like it.”

“We’ve gotten off the subject,” Brick Three said. “Before anything, we have to decide whether or not we’ll tell them this weekend.”

“I can’t decide. It’s such unexpected, enormous news.”

“It’s going to happen, Jane. It’s been three months. Dr. Stone just told us that the ultrasounds show a healthy baby.”

Jane made a funny face at her husband. “Is it embarrassing that we’re going to have a baby at the age of forty-four?”

Brick Three made a funny face back. “Actually, I think we should be proud.”

“You’re right. And these days it’s not so unusual.” Jane picked up her handbag. “Let’s go in. We can decide over a nice cup of coffee.”

“Decaf,” Brick Three said.