Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Two Years Later
Zara
“I really should head home,” I said for the third or fourth time .
But it was so pleasant here on the Shipleys’ front porch, in a rocking chair, with my daughter in my arms. We’d just eaten a big meal. The Shipleys usually threw a dinner party on Thursdays at their farmhouse. As Audrey’s business partner and a friend of the family, I had a standing invitation, along with my daughter, Nicole. And we rarely missed a Thursday Dinner .
I should be inside washing dishes with Zach and Lark. But, as always, Nicole was a sleepy weight in my lap, and so the Shipley clan gave me a free pass on cleanup .
It was a pretty summer night in July, and the sweet weather made me wistful. I’d always loved Vermont summers, but July was the month when I’d met Nicole’s father. Two years had gone by, but it felt like just yesterday .
On the porch swing beside me, Audrey stretched her arms overhead. “That second piece of pie might have been a mistake .”
“Don’t feel well?” Griffin reached over and palmed her stomach, giving it a gentle rub .
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “But I have my final fitting tomorrow. If the seamstress has to alter the dress again, she’ll scold me .”
“You’re paying for her trouble, though,” I pointed out .
“An excellent point,” Griff agreed .
I gave Audrey a once-over. She’d let slip that she’d gained a few pounds, and I thought I knew why. When can we all just acknowledge that you’re pregnant? But I held my tongue, because I knew firsthand what it was like to face too many questions. And Audrey would tell me when she was ready .
“Do you want company tomorrow?” I asked instead. “We’d have to leave Kieran alone at the counter, though.” Griff’s cousin was our part-time employee. He was a hard worker, but not super friendly to customers .
“That’s never a great idea. Do you want me to pick up your dress while I’m at the shop ?”
“Nope. I picked it up on Monday. It’s hanging in the closet, ready to go.” Audrey had chosen simple sheath dresses for her bridesmaids, which I appreciated. The fabric was cotton with an apple-blossom print. When she’d first shown the design to me I’d said, “Cutest bridesmaid’s dress ever,” and meant it .
Then she’d floored me by asking me to wear one .
Saying yes had been a no-brainer. A lot had happened in the two years since she’d rolled into town. When we’d first met, I’d really wanted to hate Audrey. I’d had some unresolved anger at Griffin for rejecting me. It had stung and had led to some self-destructive behavior on my part .
But several things happened to change my attitude. First, Audrey had won me over with her sunny attitude and big ideas. We were business partners now, as well as friends .
Second, I’d stopped being hung up on Griffin and transferred my obsessions to someone equally unavailable, with predictable results. That man was long gone. But his fifteen-month-old daughter was now the light of my life .
So, two weeks from now, I would happily stand in front of a row of apple trees at Shipley Orchards, bearing witness to the marriage of my ex-hookup and my best friend. We lived in a small town. There would be people in the audience who would find it titillating. Remember when Griff was banging Zara? Before she got knocked up by a mystery man ?
But I’d hold my head up high. The past two years had shown me that the difference between dignity and disgrace was more than just an extra syllable. It was my attitude that mattered. Nobody could make me feel inferior without my permission. I’d made my peace with single motherhood, and it didn’t matter what anyone said behind my back .
On the lawn in front of us, Griffin’s younger siblings Dylan and Daphne were throwing the Frisbee around and somehow turning the game into a death match. The sky began to deepen. I needed to get the baby to bed. I’d lingered long enough .
“I need to go home,” I said once more, but this time with more conviction. “Anything you need to know for tomorrow morning ?”
“Hmm.” Audrey shook out her golden hair. “Do we still have currants ?”
“There’s one more batch. I dried them this morning .”
“Groovy. Currant scones tomorrow and blueberry muffins .”
“Sounds good. See you around ten thirty? Then you can head for the dress shop .”
“Roger, Roger.” Audrey turned in her chair to look at us, and her face went soft. “Aw. She’s really conked out now .”
Even though I couldn’t see Nicole’s face, I knew she was asleep. Her body was limp against mine, trusting me to hold her while she rested. “That’s my cue, then.” I slid my butt forward on the rocker’s seat, hoping to stand up without jostling her .
“Can I take her for you?” Griff asked, getting up from the porch swing and leaning over us .
“You can try,” I said. “If she wakes up and cries, I won’t hold it against you . Much .”
He grinned. Then he scooped my sleeping daughter into his big hands. I stood, expecting him to hand her back. But instead, he tucked her against his chest, walked slowly down the porch steps, and then toward the driveway where my car waited .
“Aw,” Audrey sighed, watching him .
“Cute, right?” There was a pregnant pause while Audrey seemed to glow with maternal expectation. I hoped she wasn’t set on keeping her pregnancy a secret. It was so freaking obvious. “Night, toots,” I said to her .
“Night!” Her eyes were on her man. Someday (very soon) Griffin would make a great daddy. I could say that now without feeling jealous of Audrey. When I looked at him, I didn’t see a man I’d once wanted for myself. I saw Audrey’s other half .
I hustled to overtake Griffin and opened the back seat of my car, where the baby seat waited. I yanked the straps out of the way and stood back. “Let’s see if you can stick the dismount .”
Chuckling, Griffin leaned down to try his best. Nicole’s thatch of red hair was a shock against his black T-shirt. The bright shade of her hair—like a new penny—was both a blessing and a curse .
On the one hand, her red hair meant there weren’t any rumors around town about the possibility of Griffin fathering my child. A glance between the two of them pretty much guaranteed that they didn’t share a gene pool. On the other hand, that distinctive hair color meant that I thought of her daddy every time I spotted her sweet little head .
It also meant that every ginger who came into my brother’s bar got the side - eye .
I hadn’t been very forthcoming with anyone, including my family. Griffin and Audrey never pestered me for details about Nicole’s origins, but my brothers and uncles weren’t as easygoing .
“Hey, I did it,” Griffin whispered as he eased his big body out of the way .
Lying in her car seat, Nicole shifted in her sleep. She let out a whimper but her eyes remained closed .
“Not bad,” I whispered back. “The Russian judge took a couple points off, though .”
Griff rolled his eyes, then he gave me a quick, one-armed hug and said goodnight .
I buckled both Nicole and myself into the car, then started home .
* * *
S everal hours later I was still awake, listening to the gurgle of the river through the open window and the muted voices of bar patrons heading to their cars .
Although it had been more than a year since I’d stopped tending bar, my body refused to give up its night-owl ways. Maybe it was because I still lived over a bar—not The Mountain Goat, but a bar nonetheless .
There were only five hours left until my toddler-sized alarm clock would wake me up. I should really close my laptop and go to sleep. But many miles from here, my brother Benito was still up, too. The green dot next to his name on my messaging app was lit up .
I liked to think it was a twin thing—we were always awake when the other one needed someone to talk to. But it was also possible that we were both just lousy sleepers .
Either way, he was awake somewhere in New York state, where he’d been working on a case with other federal drug-enforcement agents. He’d told me he was coming back to Vermont within days, though. And I was eager to see him .
Zara : Hey. You’re up! Everything ok ?
Benito : Sure thing. Just have a lot to plan before I come back to town . You ?
Zara : I can’t sleep. I’m making a list of all the things Audrey and I have to do before her wedding. And I’ve been thinking about you, too! I’m going to try to rent an apartment and get out of your place .
Benito : You don’t have to do that! Stay where you are .
My brother kept urging me to stay on in his apartment. But the truth was I needed to pay my own way in life. Staying in his nearly renovated bachelor pad had only made sense when he couldn’t be here himself. Now that he was coming back to town, I needed a new plan .
Zara : Nicole needs a yard to play in. This will be best for us .
Benito : And you can find an apartment with a yard ?
He had me there. The only rental space in town that I could afford was in an old house that had been divided into three units. The yard was a bit of a disaster .
Zara : I hope to .
Benito : Take your time, tho. I haven’t even decided if it makes sense to stay in my loft when I come back. That spot might be too public for me if I’m undercover .
Zara : But you could still be renovating it. That takes months .
There was a pause before he replied. And then :
Benito : Whatever, Z. Stay if you want. That place isn’t in the top 20 of things I’m thinking about right now. And I’d just as soon hole up at the orchard for a while .
Our uncles lived on our family farm, raising pear trees and poultry. There was a big old rambling farmhouse where we had briefly lived when I was in grade school, before my mother moved us into a too-small trailer in the woods. Ben would be welcome to stay at the farm. We all were .
The shape of our family was a weird sort of echo in time. My mother had two older brothers. And I had four older brothers, if you counted Benito’s seventeen-minute head start .
My mom had a total of five children with a man who hadn’t really wanted children. He’d finally split for good when I was in third grade. Last we’d heard, he’d been working in British Columbia on an oil field. Even his Christmas cards had stopped when Benito and I were in high school .
I’d given birth to one child whose father was absent. And there the echo would stop. Nicole would never have four brothers. She wouldn’t even get one .
Benito : You know, if a yard is what you want, there’s always room at the orchard for you .
Zara : Shut up .
Benito : :) Thought you might say that. Can’t wait to see you and Nic! We’ll go to the snack bar and introduce her to double chocolate ice cream .
Zara : Double chocolate for a one year old? Think again. But you and I can eat it when she’s napping. Later gator !
Benito : In a while crocodile .
His green dot disappeared .
I closed my laptop in my darkened loft. Correction: Benito’s loft. Apparently our family had a thing for apartments over bars. This space was nothing like my shabby little room over the Goat, though. It was fancier, as was the bar beneath it .
My oldest brother Alec had bought a five-acre riverfront property at auction—with a set of prewar buildings on it. But Alec didn’t have enough cash to fix up all the buildings at once. So Benito had invested in a share, securing this apartment space for himself. When he got around to finishing the renovation, the place would be awesome. The building had once been a mill, so it had high ceilings and exposed brick walls. Thick, old wooden beams ridged the ceiling .
It was groovy. But it wasn’t mine .
Downstairs was Alec’s bar, The Gin Mill. And across the parking area was the coffee shop I co-owned with Audrey. Alec owned that building , too .
At least I paid rent on the coffee shop. In Ben’s apartment, I was a freeloader .
I could sit up all night and worry about this, and sometimes did. But tonight I would try to get some sleep. Setting the computer on the coffee table, I crossed the room silently, pausing to poke my head into the tiny bedroom where my daughter slept in her crib. She was on her tummy, her legs tucked up beneath her, diaper butt in the air. Her sweet face was turned away from me but I could picture her round cheek against the sheet, her eyes shut tight, as if sleeping required great concentration .
Before I got pregnant, motherhood had not been very high on my to-do list. I hadn’t thought of myself as a very maternal person, I guess. But Nicole had changed me. She’d made me into a parent. Some people said gushy things about their babies— The moment she was placed into my arms I swooned with happiness! My mission in life became complete! That sort of thing had made my eyes roll . Hard .
I loved my daughter fiercely, and I would do anything for her. But the change began in me before I ever saw her face. When I’d felt her kicking for the first time, I’d realized everything was going to be different than I’d planned. My old problems had suddenly seemed small. Old jealousies and slights dried up and blew away like dust .
There was a child inside me, and I was all she had. We were going to be a team, and I was never going to fail her. Never .
And I’d kept that promise. She was healthy and always cared for by people who loved her. I’d given up my job managing The Mountain Goat for uncle Otto. I’d opened the coffee shop with Audrey, so that I could have a job that didn’t keep me at work until three in the morning .
One of these days I’d learn to go to sleep before midnight like a normal person , too .
I tiptoed over to shift the summer-weight blanket onto Nicole’s small back and forced myself to walk away from the crib and out of the room. My love for her burned brightly as I climbed into bed. In five hours or so she’d roll over in her crib and begin to babble until I roused myself to pluck her off the mattress. The two of us would get back into my bed where she’d nurse for a half hour or so, her little starfish hand exploring my face while I dozed .
We were a team of two, and a good one. And I’d do anything for her—even move back to my uncles’ farm. I’d told Benito I wouldn’t, but that was just bluster. If my business didn’t thrive, or if I couldn’t find the right apartment, I’d endure a little too much family togetherness to give my baby girl whatever she needed .
There was time, though. She was only fifteen months old and didn’t need much space to run. Not yet .
Living with Otto wouldn’t be easy. He was a difficult man, prone to giving everyone his opinion whether they solicited it or not. When I’d managed The Mountain Goat, at least his advice had been less personal. He’d had strong opinions about how to organize the cash register and which brands of liquor to stock. As the sole manager for three years, I knew far more about running the place than he did .
Now on Sundays, when our extended family ate together, I was frequently treated to his thoughts on Nicole’s thumb-sucking habit and feeding schedule .
This from a childless man .
So I already knew that living under his roof would be a real trial, since every bit of his advice was laced with judgement. “Shame she doesn’t have a daddy,” Otto sometimes said .
“Good thing she has four uncles and two great-uncles,” my mother always said, chiming in on my behalf .
One blessing of single motherhood still surprised me—my relationship with my own mother had bloomed. This was the woman who’d spent my entire youth trying to make me more ladylike. We’d fought over the length of my skirts, my curfew, my hair, and my music .
But that had all stopped the moment I’d found the nerve to tell her I was pregnant. To my surprise, she hadn’t shed a single tear (except the joyous kind) at my “situation,” as Otto called it. Instead, she’d greeted her first grandchild with nothing but excitement .
It had floored me. But after a time I’d understood why Mom always had my back. She knew how painful everyone else’s opinions and advice could be, because she’d spent my whole life hearing it herself .
I got it now .
Hardly a Sunday lunch with my family went by without someone mentioning the unusual russet color of Nicole’s hair. “Her daddy is a redhead. Must be,” Otto had said more than once, hoping I’d spill the story .
But Nicole’s parentage was private. Someday when she was old enough to hear the truth, I’d tell her the story of meeting the stranger who became her daddy, and how I’d searched for him when I’d figured out I was pregnant. I’ll tell her he was a good man, but just passing through. Nobody deserved to hear that story before Nicole heard it herself .
And, by then, maybe there would be another good man in my life. A girl could dream .
“You deserve someone,” Benito would say sometimes. “We both do .”
“Then where are my guy and your woman ?”
“They’re out there somewhere,” he’d insist .
Most days I didn’t really believe him. Dating wasn’t practical for someone with a toddler. I didn’t even let it bother me .
As for Benito, he’d been in love once. And I’d wrecked it. If he was right that there was someone out there for everyone, I was sure he deserved it more than I did .
In the meantime, Benito was my only confidante. He knew the details of my life-changing hookup, because I’d needed someone to help me search for Dave when I’d learned I was pregnant. Since Ben was in law enforcement, he was a good choice .
Also, for all his flaws, my twin was a vault .
As the clock ticked toward morning, I allowed myself the briefest memory of Dave’s chiseled face and the feel of his taut muscles beneath my fingers .
Then I slept .