Chapter 33 Marlowe ~ Summer
Marlowe ~ Summer
Turning slowly in her full length mirror, Marlowe admired the dress Sam and Aunt Cate had brought home from their Chicago shopping trip.
The old-fashioned white cotton scattered with tiny blue forget-me-nots was not the kind of dress she would ever had worn in Naples.
But tonight the world was finally bursting into bloom and so was she.
At six months pregnant, the dress felt exactly right.
Aunt Cate had also given her a beautiful blue shawl.
Brad’s eyes sparkled as he watched her come down the stairs.
“You look beautiful.” Not pretty, not cute, but beautiful.
Reaching up to make sure she was safe on the staircase, he’d said it in that calm, certain voice of his that made her believe it.
In her past, she shrugged off empty compliments from men. But with Brad, the words felt real.
Everything felt perfect that night as they stepped into the Walloon Lake Inn, hand in hand.
The pregnancy was going according to plan.
No issues had popped up and she was so relieved.
The soft hum of conversation and the muted glow of candlelight enfolded them as they followed the hostess to a corner table.
From there they’d be able to see the lake, but people wouldn’t be able to see them.
No way did Marlowe want to be on display.
People often commented and they assumed that they were a couple.
The air smelled of garlic and something citrusy, maybe lemon zest or wine sauce.
The restaurant was comfortably full, but not loud.
Mostly locals, she guessed, people from Walloon Lake, Petoskey, or Charlevoix.
The summer people hadn’t arrived yet with their linen pants and polo shirts.
Their table was set with white linen and polished silver.
A small vase of lilacs sat in the center, the scent faint and nostalgic.
“Isn’t this nice?” Marlowe said softly as they walked to their table. “It feels relaxing, you know, before the crowds come back.”
Brad smiled over at her. “Exactly what I was thinking. A little pocket of calm before summer arrives.”
The sun had slipped low, brushing the tops of the trees on the far shore.
Marlowe eased into her chair, grateful for the empire waistline of her dress that let her breathe.
The fabric felt soft against her skin. She’d felt self-conscious about the expanding curve of her stomach.
Lately it was difficult to find a comfortable position.
Brad’s eyes on her made her forget all that.
The waiter appeared with a practiced smile.
“Can I get you two something to drink? I think expectant mothers are supposed to hydrate.” The young woman grinned, clearly assuming the baby was theirs.
Marlowe caught Brad’s eye, but he only shrugged.
She felt a rush of affection for him. He never seemed thrown off by other people’s assumptions.
Brad ordered red wine for himself and Marlowe asked for her regular tonic over ice with a slice of lime.
When the waitress left, Marlowe said, “You don’t feel funny about people thinking you’re the dad?”
“Let them think what they want.” Brad looked genuinely pleased. “You’re carrying a miracle, Marlowe. That’s all that matters.”
Her throat tightened at his words. She was so emotional lately and she struggled not to cry right there at the table.
Thank goodness the waiter returned with ice water and their drinks.
They took their time ordering. Brad chose the prime sirloin and she decided on the seafood risotto.
After the waiter walked away, Brad asked her how she was feeling.
“Pretty good, just increasingly clumsy,” she said. “The baby’s been so active lately. Izzy stops by every couple days to put her hand on my stomach. It’s really sweet.”
Brad smiled. “I can picture her doing that. She must be so excited. What is it now…three months to go?”
“That’s what the doctor thinks.” Marlowe felt pleased that he was keeping track. “Izzy has already organized the nursery. She’s driving Skipper crazy. I told her she’s going overboard. But what do I know?”
“She’s waited a long time to go overboard,” he said gently.
“Probably right. She’s sure had her share of disappointments so this is long overdue.
” She looked out at the lake for a moment.
The surface rippled faintly with the evening breeze.
There was something soothing about that view.
It reminded her of the summers she and her sisters had spent up in Charlevoix, running barefoot through the grass until Mom or Dad called them in for dinner.
That was so long ago, almost in a different life.
“What is it?” Brad reached over to take her hand. “Suddenly you look worried.”
She drew in a breath and forced it out. “I guess I’m feeling bad that my parents aren’t here to enjoy their grandchildren. But that’s silly.”
Brad’s grip on her hand tightened and his eyes darkened. That’s not silly at all. Anyone who’s lost a parent would feel that way. Seeing my parents with Nicole’s kids makes us all happy.”
The man always knew what to say to cheer her up.
“Sam’s been in a great mood lately,” she said after a moment. “You know her campaign for that design firm? It won a CLIO, which is a national competition.”
“Wow. Good for her. That’s huge.”
“She’s been more herself since getting the news. She seems to be thriving.”
“Sounds like all three of you are doing pretty well.”
Marlowe smiled. “I guess we are.” And didn’t that feel good?
“When this is over,” she said, swirling her straw idly, “I’m going to have a glass of champagne with my sisters and the whole family. We’ll toast to this little boy and to the whole messy, beautiful family we’ve got.”
“So it’s a boy?”
“Yep, Skipper is so excited. They didn’t want to wait to find out. Skipper’s mom was tired of buying yellow or green baby clothes.”
“That’s terrific. I’ll make sure you have the best bottle of champagne in Charlevoix.” Brad lifted his goblet as if he was practicing the toast.
Dinner arrived, fragrant and steaming. The seafood risotto glistened with butter and bits of shrimp, scallops, and sweet peas. She took a small bite and sighed. “This is heavenly.”
Brad grinned. “Worth the drive?”
“Worth every mile.”
They ate slowly, savoring the food and the conversation.
Marlowe told him about the baby shower Izzy and Aunt Cate were planning for next week.
“Seems to me that Izzy already has everything. Clothes, diapers, toys. Holly keeps asking Izzy if the baby’s room will be hers. She wants to sleep in the baby bed.”
“That’s cute,” Brad said. “Won’t the shower be a celebration for both you and the baby? You deserve to be celebrated too.”
“I’m not sure about that. This is Izzy’s baby.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But you’re giving a gift that surpasses anything else.”
Marlowe’s heart swelled. She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just smiled.
After that Brad updated her on his family. Nicole was taking more shifts at the hospital so his parents often picked Shaun up from playschool and Sarah from kindergarten. Brad had lots of stories about them. Marlowe filled him in on the recent local real estate buzz.
“My business has actually picked up,” Marlowe said. “I think pregnant women are drawn to me now. Or maybe their mothers are. I can’t go anywhere without someone stopping me to ask if I’m having a boy or a girl.”
Brad laughed. “Do you tell them the truth?”
“I just tell them it’s a boy. But I don’t explain. Skipper’s already calling him Little Dude.” She smiled, remembering Skipper’s expression the first time he’d said it, resting his big hand gently over her belly. “That man is so excited. Sometimes he stops in by himself. Says he needs dad time.”
“I totally understand.” Brad smiled knowingly. “He wants to feel connected to his son.”
“It was strange at first, but it’s so sweet. He talks to the baby, tells him about fishing and baseball. I think doing that helps Skipper believe this is real.”
She took another small bite of risotto. It didn’t take much for her to feel full. A lot of this delicious risotto would be coming home with her. The baby shifted, and she laid her hand on the side of her tummy and smiled. “Someone likes dinner.”
Brad’s eyes softened. “He knows his mom’s happy.”
Marlowe laughed softly. “I’m not his mom.”
“You’re something very close to that.”
Marlowe didn’t know what to say. Some days she had to sort through her feelings about this baby.
When their plates were cleared, they decided to skip dessert.
Taking the to-go box in hand, Brad helped arrange the shawl on her shoulders and led her outside.
The evening air had cooled, tinged with pine and the smell of the lake.
Tiny lights glowed along the veranda railing.
A few couples had walked out onto a pier, gazing at the rippling water.
Brad guided her toward a wicker love seat tucked beneath a maple tree.
“I could sit like this forever,” Marlowe murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.
Brad’s arm came around her. Sam had fixed her hair that night, pulling it into a high ponytail. Marlowe had recently added heavy bangs. He began to play with a strand of her ponytail, twirling it gently around one finger.
“I could sit like this for a long time too,” he said quietly. Then he hesitated.
She felt the shift in his breathing. “What is it?” Marlowe pulled back to see his face.
He looked at her for a long moment. The twilight made his expression hard to read, but she sensed something tender there, something unspoken.
“This isn’t how I pictured things,” he said slowly. “When I met you, I didn’t imagine we’d be sitting here with you six months pregnant…and with someone else’s baby.”
Her breath caught. “I know. Sometimes I feel the same way. You’ve been really good about it.”