Chapter 2 #2
Yes. When you finish in Vermont. You could come stay with us for a while.
Another pause. Beth watched the three dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear.
You're about to have twins, Emily finally wrote. The last thing you need is a houseguest who doesn't understand social boundaries.
You're not a houseguest. You're family. And Gabriel's family is here all the time. Thomas practically lives in the workshop. Willow shows up after school most days. It's already chaos. You'd fit right in.
I don't know if that's a compliment.
It is. Trust me.
The dots appeared again. Beth waited.
Can I think about it?
Of course. No pressure. But the offer stands. We have a spare room, a very comfortable couch, and more apples than we know what to do with.
It's March. You don't have any apples.
Okay, we have apple cider. And apple butter. And frozen apple pie filling. The point is, we have apple-related hospitality.
Emily sent back a single emoji: a tiny red apple.
I'll think about it, she wrote. And Beth?
Yeah?
I hope the tiny humans go easy on you today.
Beth typed back. Me too.
She set the phone down and leaned back in her chair, one hand returning to its permanent resting place on her belly.
The babies had quieted for now, perhaps exhausted from their morning acrobatics.
She could feel them shifting occasionally, the strange rolling sensation that had become as familiar as her own heartbeat.
Outside, the gray sky had brightened slightly.
Not sunshine, but the promise of it, somewhere behind the clouds.
Beth could see Gabriel through the workshop window now, his silhouette moving among the workbenches.
Thomas was there too, his white hair visible even from this distance.
The two of them worked well together, father and son, their movements synchronized by years of practice.
Beth thought about Emily, alone in Vermont, surrounded by someone else's books.
She thought about the job interviews that hadn't worked out, the life plan that needed recalibrating.
She thought about how lost she herself had felt a few years ago, before she found this farm, before she found Gabriel.
Sometimes people just needed a place to land.
Her phone buzzed again, and this time it was her mother… again.
Just wanted to hear your voice. Call me when you can. Love you more than coffee, and you know how much I love coffee.
Beth smiled, tears pricking at her eyes. Stupid hormones.
She picked up the phone and dialed.
“Mom, we just talked last night. You’ve got to stop hovering.”
“How can I be hovering? I’m fifteen-hundred miles away.”
“You’re cell phone hovering. It’s a thing.”
Maggie laughed. “I promise not to hover, but you can tell me how you’re feeling, can’t you?”
“I’m still as enormous as I was yesterday,” Beth said. “Exhausted. Emotional. I cried because Gabriel looked at me nicely.”
“That sounds about right,” Maggie said. “I cried during your pregnancy because a commercial showed a baby learning to walk. I had to leave the room.”
“I remember. You told Michael he wasn't allowed to watch television for a month.”
“He survived.”
Beth laughed, and then, predictably, she started to cry.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Maggie said, her voice soft. “It's okay. Let it out.”
“I don't even know why I'm crying,” Beth managed. “I'm just sitting here. Nothing happened.”
“You're growing two humans. Your body is allowed to have feelings about that.”
Beth wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I talked to Emily today.”
“How is she?”
“Struggling, I think. She's between jobs. Between everything, really. I asked her to come stay with us.”
There was a pause. “That's a generous offer, especially right now.”
“She's family,” Beth said simply. “And I think she needs somewhere to belong.”
“You've always understood her,” Maggie said. “Better than most of us.”
“She's not that hard to understand. You just have to listen to what she actually says instead of what you think she means.”
“Wise words from my youngest.”
“I have my moments.”
They talked for another twenty minutes, about the travel plans, about the Andover house, about the list of preparations that Maggie was checking off with her usual efficiency. By the time they hung up, Beth felt steadier, anchored by her mother's voice.
She looked out the window again. Gabriel had emerged from the workshop and was walking toward the house, his phone pressed to his ear. Even from this distance, she could see him nodding, see the way his free hand gestured as he talked.
He looked up, saw her watching, and waved.
She waved back.
Whatever came next, the babies, the chaos, the sleepless nights, they would figure it out together. And maybe Emily would be part of that. Maybe this farm would become the place where her half-sister finally found her footing.
Beth rested her hands on her belly and felt the twins stir beneath her palms.
“Welcome to the family,” she whispered. “It's complicated, but you're going to love it.”