Chapter Fifty-Five
Fifty-Five
“Surprise,” Hunter said, breezing into Colleen’s hospital room with an armload of art supplies. “You can’t make it to Carnival, so I’m bringing Carnival to you.”
It was Colleen’s favorite week of the summer, and she’d been especially excited about the Wizard of Oz theme. Hunter had the idea for them to spend the day together making decorations.
Colleen nodded absently. She’d been the one to introduce Hunter and Shelby to the tradition of painting banners for Commercial Street. Carnival began in the late 1970s, and there seemed to be an unspoken ethos that making decorations and costumes by hand was superior to the modern day click-and-buy method that left everything looking the same. Even people who typically weren’t crafty still turned out inventive, beautiful signs and decorations just for this one time of year.
The shades were pulled down, and Hunter reached over to let the light in.
“Don’t,” Colleen said.
Hunter stopped trying to brighten the room and instead turned her attention to getting the supplies set up. She wheeled a table from the corner and set out the paint and brushes and canvas and reams of paper from Michael’s and Ace Hardware. “I had to go to three different places to find green paint. The town is already in Emerald City mode.”
Colleen used the remote to turn off the wall-mounted television.
“I’m tired,” she said.
Hunter stopped unpacking the art supplies and moved to sit on the edge of Colleen’s bed.
“Are you okay?” Hunter said, moving closer.
“Fine,” she said, reaching back to press on the small of her back. Hunter leaned over to rub it for her. “But I found out one more thing about the bookstore now that Hendrik’s is taking over: it’s only going to be open in the summer. So we’ll have a bookstore, but not a year-round bookstore. For the first time since 1943.” Colleen lifted her heavy curtain of blond hair and asked Hunter to hand her a clip from the bedside table.
“You can’t get stressed out,” Hunter said. “Doug said so, your doctor said so. Your health and the babies’ health are more important than a bookstore.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Hunter stood so she could pull Colleen’s hair back for her.
“That’s not fair.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. The store... Shelby’s book... Being stuck here.” She lifted a hand then dropped it into her lap.
“It’s going to be okay,” Hunter said.
Colleen had called her freaking out about Shelby’s book. She seemed to be as upset about it as she was about Land’s End going up for sale. Then Colleen emailed a copy of the new book and insisted she read it. Reluctantly, she did, and concluded that Colleen was overreacting. But then, who was she to say? Colleen had thought she was overreacting to Secrets of Summer . Hunter suspected there was some wisdom to be found in the irony, but she couldn’t figure out what that might be.
“I don’t think Shelby’s book is as personal as you think it is,” Hunter said for at least the third time. “And I know how that sounds coming from me. But really, what’s going on, Colleen? This can’t all be about the bookstore. Or the novel.”
Colleen nodded, a blank expression on her face. A tear trickled from her eyes.
“This was not my plan,” she said.
“The pregnancy? I know it’s been hard. But pretty soon you’ll have the babies and it will all be worth it. It’s what you wanted eventually, right? You always wanted to be a mom. And you love Doug.”
“That’s not the point,” Colleen said with irritation. “Imagine not having the energy to do anything , let alone the things you love . You can’t even read, never mind edit. You can’t even walk around. Do you know what it’s like to feel like you no longer exist ?”
“No,” Hunter said, “I don’t. But you do exist. You more than exist—you’re going to be someone’s mother. I think you’ll feel so differently once the babies are born. You’re going to be so happy.”
Colleen pulled the covers up higher and turned away from her. “It doesn’t work like that. Real life isn’t a Shelby Archer novel.”