Chapter 10 #2
They pulled out of the airport and merged onto the highway, joining the river of cars flowing north.
The scenery was familiar and strange at once, the billboards and exits that Maggie had passed a thousand times, now viewed through the lens of distance.
She had lived here for most of her adult life.
Had raised her children here, buried her marriage here, endured the worst and best years of her existence within these state lines.
Now she was a visitor.
The drive took closer to an hour, thanks to a slowdown near the Route 128 interchange.
Chelsea dozed in the back seat while Paolo navigated and Maggie watched the landscape change.
The city gave way to suburbs, the suburbs to smaller towns, the smaller towns to the rural roads of the north shore.
The trees were bare, the fields brown, but here and there she spotted the first hints of green, the earliest bulbs pushing up through the cold soil.
Spring was coming. Even here, even in this place that seemed locked in winter, life was preparing to return.
They turned onto the road that led to Beth and Gabriel's farm, a winding two-lane route that Maggie remembered from previous visits.
The houses grew farther apart, the lots larger, the sense of open space expanding with each mile.
This was old New England, land that had been farmed for generations, stone walls and ancient oaks marking boundaries that predated the country itself.
“There it is,” Paolo said, slowing the car.
The farmhouse sat back from the road, a white colonial with black shutters and a wide front porch.
Smoke curled from the chimney, and lights glowed warmly in the windows.
To the left stood the workshop, a converted barn where Gabriel and his father and brother crafted the furniture that had become their livelihood.
To the right, the orchard stretched across the hillside, rows of apple trees still dormant but promising.
Maggie's heart swelled at the sight of it.
Her daughter had built something beautiful here.
Had taken this old property and filled it with purpose and love.
Whatever doubts Maggie might have had about Beth moving so far from the family, about marrying a man who worked with his hands and lived off the land, had long since faded.
Beth had found her place. That was all any mother could hope for.
Paolo pulled into the driveway and parked beside a pickup truck that Maggie recognized as Gabriel's. Their RV parked farther off the driveway made Maggie smile. She remembered their drive and visit last Christmas, and how Maggie had threatened Gabriel if he didn’t get Beth to a hotel and comfort.
Even now, the thought of it made her laugh.
Paolo was about to ask her to explain what she was chuckling about when the front door of the house swung wide, and Beth appeared on the porch.
Maggie's breath caught.
Her daughter was enormous. There was no other word for it.
The pregnant belly that had been merely large at Christmas had expanded into something almost architectural, a vast curve beneath the oversized sweater Beth wore.
She moved carefully, one hand on the porch railing, her face flushed and tired but breaking into a smile as she watched them arrive.
Maggie was out of the car before she had consciously decided to move. She crossed the distance between them in seconds, climbing the porch steps and pulling Beth into the gentlest hug she could manage.
“Mom.” Beth's voice cracked slightly. “You're here.”
“I'm here.” They hugged and then Maggie pulled back to look at her daughter's face, at the circles under her eyes and the strain around her mouth. “How are you feeling? And I want an honest answer, not the one you give everyone else.”
Beth laughed, a watery sound. “Exhausted. Uncomfortable. Ready to not be pregnant anymore.” She wiped her eyes. “Also really, really glad you're here.”
“That's what I thought.” Maggie cupped Beth's face in her hands. “You're doing beautifully, sweetheart. You really are.”
Chelsea had emerged from the car and made her way up the porch steps, her arms already spread for a hug. “Look at you! You're gorgeous. You're glowing. You're absolutely massive, and I mean that as a compliment.”
“Only Chelsea could make 'massive' sound like a compliment,” Beth said, but she was smiling as she accepted the embrace.
Paolo followed more slowly, carrying two of the suitcases. He set them on the porch and approached Beth with the gentle reverence of a man who understood that pregnant women were both powerful and fragile.
“Hello beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You look wonderful.”
“You're a terrible liar, Paolo, but I appreciate the effort.”
Gabriel appeared in the doorway, filling the frame with his broad shoulders and concerned expression. “Beth, you should be sitting down. The doctor said to stay off your feet.”
“The doctor said to take it easy, not to become a statue.” Beth rolled her eyes but allowed Gabriel to guide her back toward the door.
They all moved inside, into the warmth of the farmhouse, into the smell of wood smoke and something cooking on the stove.
The living room was cozy and cluttered, filled with the evidence of a life in progress.
Books stacked on end tables, a half-finished baby blanket draped over the arm of the sofa, Charlie their dog, thumping his tail in greeting as he moved away from the fireplace to say hello to their guests.
Maggie looked around and felt something settle in her chest. This was her daughter's home. These walls held her daughter's life. And soon, very soon, they would hold two new lives as well.
“Sit,” Gabriel said, guiding Beth toward the sofa. “I'll make tea. Or coffee. Or whatever everyone wants.”
“Tea would be lovely,” Maggie said. “Chelsea?”
“Coffee. Strong. It's been a long day.”
Paolo offered to help Gabriel in the kitchen, leaving Maggie and Chelsea with Beth in the living room. Beth lowered herself onto the sofa with a grimace, shifting several times before finding a position that seemed tolerable.
“I can't get comfortable anywhere,” she admitted. “The bed is too soft, the chairs are too hard, and the babies seem to think my bladder is a trampoline.”
“Only a few more days,” Maggie said, settling beside her. “Maybe a week at most.”
“A week feels like forever right now.” Beth leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I'm so tired, Mom. I don't even know how I'm going to handle two babies when I can barely handle being pregnant with them.”
“You'll handle it because you have to. And because you won't be alone.” Maggie took her daughter's hand. “That's why we're here. To help, to support, to hold babies at three in the morning so you can sleep for a few hours.”
“Gabriel keeps saying the same thing. And his dad. Everyone keeps telling me it will be okay.”
“Because it will be.”
Beth opened her eyes and looked at her mother. “Were you scared? When you had Michael?”
Maggie considered the question. “Terrified.
I had read all the books and taken all the classes, and I still felt completely unprepared.
The first night in the hospital, after the visitors left and it was just me and this tiny person, I lay there in the dark and thought, 'What have I done?
How am I supposed to keep this baby alive? '”
“What did you do?”
“I cried. Then I fed him. Then I cried some more.” Maggie smiled. “And then morning came, and the nurses helped me give him a bath, and slowly I started to figure it out. Not all at once. But little by little, day by day.”
Beth was quiet for a moment. “I'm glad you're here,” she said finally. “I know I said that already. But I really mean it.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” Maggie squeezed her hand. “And I wouldn't be anywhere else.”
Gabriel and Paolo returned with a tray of drinks, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics.
The farm, the orchard, the furniture orders that were keeping the workshop busy.
Thomas was doing well, Gabriel reported.
His father had found a new energy since they started taking on more custom work.
James was talking about expanding, maybe hiring another craftsman.
Through it all, Maggie watched her daughter. Watched the way Beth's hand rested on her belly, the unconscious gestures of protection and connection. Watched the way she looked at Gabriel, the silent communication of a couple who had learned each other's rhythms.
Her baby was about to have babies. The thought still took her breath away.
Outside, the sun was setting over the orchard, painting the bare branches in shades of gold and pink. Spring was coming. New life was coming. And Maggie felt immense joy in it all.