Chapter 28 #2
Nicole’s eyes brightened with curiosity. “Didn’t your younger sister get married recently? I think I’ve seen her in town with the baby—Izzy, right?”
“Yes, Izzy. The sister who owns the bakery,” Marlowe said. “She and her husband, Skipper, live with his mom and sister now. It’s been good for them. Family support makes a world of difference.”
“Those two are darling parents,” Nicole said. “I saw them at the farmers’ market last week with the stroller. That little girl is priceless. She was pointing out the apples she wanted.”
“Sounds like Holly. She’s the focus of their lives.
A real gift.” Marlowe smiled, feeling the familiar warmth that came whenever she thought about Izzy and the baby.
There was always a flicker of protective pride too.
Izzy had been kind of wild during her teenage years.
Crazy parties on the beach and then her short, short marriage to Skipper. But she’d really come around.
The conversation flowed easily after that, full of small-town anecdotes and laughter.
Brad’s parents shared stories about his childhood.
She wasn’t surprised to hear that people could count on him to deliver newspapers in the snow, or that he loved to build forts in the backyard.
Brad took the teasing in stride. Marlowe found herself laughing more than she expected.
After dinner she offered to help with dishes, but Brad’s mother shooed her away. “Relax. You’re a guest,” she said firmly. “Go sit. Nicole will help. Enjoy yourself.”
So Marlowe joined the rest of the family downstairs, where Brad’s dad was watching football with Trace.
“Uno?” Brad suggested, sitting down at a corner table and holding up a deck of cards he’d fished from a drawer.
“Deal me in,” Marlowe said, taking a place across from Brad. She’d always loved family games. Sarah and Shaun joined them. Sarah insisted on being the dealer, though her shuffling left something to be desired. Brad winked at Marlowe as cards flew unevenly across the table.
The game went on with good-natured cheating—Sarah hiding cards under her leg, Brad pretending not to notice. Marlowe played along, letting herself relax fully for the first time that day. The laughter came naturally, and she felt like she’d been with this family for longer than a few hours.
When Trace got up from the TV around eight, Marlowe realized how quickly the evening had gone. “Time to hit the road,” he said. “Sarah’s got kindergarten in the morning.”
There were groans and protests, but Nicole was already gathering the children, promising bedtime stories. “Are you ready?” Brad asked Marlowe and she nodded.
While the kids ran to get their jackets from a bedroom, Marlowe was drawn to the pictures on the mantle above a fireplace.
Brad was probably in grade school in the picture of him in a baseball uniform.
Nicole was holding a newborn with Trace in another.
And then there was one of Brad’s parents at a wedding decades ago, maybe Nicole’s.
It was the kind of visual history she’d always loved.
After Nicole and Trace headed out with the kids, Brad said goodbye to his parents. Marlowe was surprised when Mrs. Howington gave her a tight hug. “You come by anytime, honey. There’s always more room at the table.” The kind words made it easy to hug her back
Outside, the night was crisp, the stars sharp above the dark treetops. Brad moved to open the Jeep door for her, but instead of getting in, they lingered, leaning against the hood.
“Thanks for coming,” he said softly. “They really liked you.”
“Your family is wonderful,” she said. “You weren’t exaggerating about the roast beef.”
He laughed. “Mom will be thrilled to hear that.”
They fell quiet for a moment. Marlowe watched the light spill from the front windows, soft and golden, and felt something stirring deep inside—something she hadn’t expected. But she had to make things clear with Brad.
“Brad, remember when I told you about Izzy’s plan,” she began carefully. “About the surrogate idea.”
Brad nodded, his expression calm. “You mentioned it, yes.”
“She’s really hoping it works,” Marlowe said, looking down at her hands. “They’ve been through so much. Unfortunately Sam has a medical problem that disqualified her. But I passed, so it looks like that’s where I’m heading.”
Brad was silent for a beat, then said, “Not everyone would step up like that.”
“I just want to help her. It feels right.”
Reaching out, he brushed his thumb along her wrist. “You’ve got a good heart, Marlowe. Whatever happens, I support you.”
His words felt like the first sip of morning coffee. Choking up, Marlowe could only nod. “I was worried you might think it’s too much. Too complicated.”
“Life’s complicated,” he said with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
She smiled faintly. “You make it sound simple.”
“I try not to overthink the things that matter.”
He leaned closer then, kissing her softly. When he pulled back, there was a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Maybe it’ll be a trial run,” he said. “You know, for your own motherhood someday.”
The comment caught her off guard. She blinked, unsure how to respond. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” she said, half laughing.
“Hey, don’t let it scare you. I shouldn’t have said that. But you’re good with kids. Sorry if I overstepped. I don’t want to pressure you.”
She studied him in the dim light—the strong line of his jaw, the easy confidence he carried. His teasing had stirred something real in her. A flicker of longing she hadn’t felt in years.
For most of her adult life, motherhood had been a distant concept—something she’d neatly sidestepped in favor of her career, her independence. She’d watched friends juggle diapers and mortgages and thought, Not me. But maybe that was Not me yet.
Here under the stars, with Brad’s steady presence beside her and the echo of his family’s laughter still in her ears, she suddenly could picture it. The home was filled with warmth and noise, little feet running across wooden floors. A man who looked like Brad stood in a doorway, smiling.
The image startled her with its clarity.
“Brad,” she said softly, “you’d make a good dad too.”
He looked at her with a slow, knowing grin. “You think so?”
“I do.” He should have a family and uncertainty rippled across her mind again.
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Maybe we’ll find out someday.”
“Will we?” Marlowe jerked and managed a stiff smile. What could she say? She didn’t want to jinx it, didn’t want to label whatever fragile, tender thing was forming between them.
“You know I’m serious about you.” Brad whispered, kissing her cheek. “I love you, Marlowe. Sure, I know we haven’t known each other for a long time. But my dad proposed to my mom in high school. They just knew.”
Suddenly, the front door opened and Brad’s dad stood outlined by the light from the living room. “Having car trouble out there, Brad? Need some help?”
Brad’s lips tipped up and he chuckled. “Nope, we’re good,” he called back. “Just enjoying the night air.”
His poor father withdrew like a startled turtle. “Oh, well. Sure. Good night then.” The door closed. Laughing quietly, they both got in the car.
“Mom is probably giving him an earful about that,” Brad said.
As he drove her home, she gazed out the window in the darkness.
The trees were a blur as they drove past, the road unwinding like a ribbon through the woods.
She thought about how quickly her life had changed in a few months—new town, new house, new love.
And now, possibly, a new role as a pregnant woman, something she sure hadn’t expected when she moved to Charlevoix.