Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Three and a half months later
Ana
The little girl in her quivered with joy every time she reached the Luview, Maine town line.
A big heart-shaped sign, brand new from what she could tell, greeted them. Solid red, it was huge, with the words Welcome to Love You, Maine: Where Every Day Is Valentine’s Day.
“We’re here!” she announced happily, Brie bouncing up and down in her seat as she drove.
Visiting Luview on Memorial Day weekend had seemed risky, but Brie assured her it wasn’t an overly busy holiday in the tiny hamlet, and certainly nothing like Valentine’s Day. Earlier in the week, they’d celebrated a major victory:
Ana’s pregnancy had passed twenty-six weeks.
Her baby boy was just across the threshold of viability.
The high-risk OB/GYN in Boston gave her the okay for this trip. Prohibited from flying, she could travel by car, but only if she stopped regularly to stretch, hydrate, and maintain overall wellness.
Life was good.
And being in Love You, Maine made it even better.
Brie’s great-aunt Lucinda had invited them to come visit. Ground had been broken on the addition to the Love You Chocolate store, and it was time to visit the florists, caterers, and assorted and sundry shops that provided goods and services to wedding parties.
Brie and Martin had a budget, of course.
Lucinda had insisted that the hall rental was her gift to them, which was extremely generous and gracious.
And Lucinda had informed Brie that she would get the “local” price on everything, because Lucinda had already called Love You Flowers, The Food Alchemist, Bilbee’s Tavern, and other related businesses to make certain they knew that Brie Hohenadel was her grandniece.
“You hungry?” Brie asked as the houses turned red, white, and pink, a small CPA firm the first building she saw that fit the town’s color scheme.
“When am I not?”
“Let’s hit Greta’s.”
It made Ana felt like such a local, calling it that. Love You Bakery was an institution in town, filled with tourists on weekends, locals during the week and on Sundays, for brunch. She and Brie weren’t even close to being townies, but she felt like more than just a tourist.
A flood of memories poured through her.
For years, her parents and Brie’s parents had been friends, and the annual trip to Maine in the summer had made Ana feel like she had siblings. Marian and Paulo, her dad, always made time for the four-day weekend up here in western Maine. As a child, the trip just … was. It was part of life.
All those joint family trips ended abruptly when her father died.
A loud bell made them both turn to look at the trolley, painted in the town’s colors, stopping at a small bus stop.
“What the heck?” Brie said. “I know I haven’t been here for two years, but that’s new!” Last summer, the Hohenadels had missed their traditional summer trek because of the cheese shop had moved. Thanksfully, Aunt Lucinda was made of steel and was still alive, kicking, and taking names.
“I’ll bet it cuts down on traffic and parking.”
“I love it!” Brie pulled into the parking lot behind the stop. “Let’s ride it!”
Ana rubbed her belly. Ripe and round, it was harder than she expected. Pregnancy had been nothing but revelations, the gradual realization that so much of what she’d assumed about having a baby was wrong.
Bellies weren’t soft. Wombs were tough.
Babies weren’t weak. They had feet that kicked kidneys like soccer players.
Pregnant stomachs were bottomless. Especially for chocolate.
Pregnant bladders instantly shrank to the size of a tablespoon.
“Shouldn’t we drive to Auntie’s house?”
“Let’s have some fun, Ana. Ride the trolley, then come back for our stuff. There’s a big festival on the common right now.”
“There’s always a festival in Love You.”
“So let’s go enjoy it! We’re early, anyhow. We can ride the trolley, grab a loaded brownie at Greta’s, take the trolley back, and still make it to Auntie’s at about the same time she’s expecting us.”
Ana reached for her seatbelt, unclicked it, and grabbed her purse.
“Why didn’t you lead with the words ‘let’s get a loaded brownie at Greta’s’?”
Brie’s smile was dazzlingly awesome as they walked quickly to the trolley stop, where a line had formed.
Ana couldn’t remember the last time she’d ridden a trolley.
Maybe in London, five years ago, when she’d gone there with her mother?
Marian didn’t normally carve out much time for fun, so the trip stood out.
They’d bought a special pass for a hop-on, hop-off trolley/bus thing that had been so easy, and saved a lot of shoe leather and tourist blisters.
“The police car!” Ana exclaimed as they settled into seats, Brie twisting to look behind her.
“And the red uniforms!” A tall man wearing a red uniform bisected by a black belt, his red hat in his hands, leaned against his patrol car and watched the trolley.
He had sandy blond hair, cut short, and curious eyes.
Something about him seemed a bit familiar, but she couldn’t place the guy.
As the riders all finished onboarding, the bus driver announced:
“Welcome to Love You, Maine, where every day is Valentine’s Day. You’re riding a special all-electric trolley with zero emissions.”
As she spoke, a giant red silk heart suddenly entered the bus. It had legs.
And carried a silver tray covered with foil-wrapped chocolate hearts.
“Catch!” said the heart, the person inside the costume laughing and tossing candy to the twenty or so trolley patrons, children squealing and adults letting out sounds of surprise.
A few people took hits of chocolate straight to the head, but by the time the heart had delivered its gifts, everyone was in good cheer.
“And if you like what you’re tasting, you can get more at Love You Chocolate,” the driver announced, starting the motor.
“Is there a store called Love You Beer?” one of the men called out. “When do they hand out samples?”
The chocolate coated her mouth, making her smile sweeter than normal. Baby Bean shifted a bit inside her, the rolling more like a stretch, as if he were doing a yoga pose in there.
Upward Facing Liver.
“You look so happy,” Brie commented as they gawked out the windows like kids. On impulse, Ana waved to the cop, who waved back.
Seeing this, two little boys pressed their faces against the window and waved energetically at the cop.
He waved even harder, smiling.
“How could I be anything but ecstatic? Free chocolate. A long weekend in Love You, Maine. Planning your wedding.”
“And Baby Bean is sticking nicely.”
“All of it.” She squeezed Brie’s elbow. “All of it makes me happy.”
“Good. You deserve everything good in life.”
“I already have it. I can’t ask for much more.”
Longing, swift and unexpected, filled her bones.
Because that wasn’t quite true.
She did want something else.
A partner. A life partner. Someone to walk through all her days with. To cuddle up in bed at night. To tell her secrets and confess her fears. To–
“Here we are, folks,” the trolley driver announced. “Go get more chocolate!” The store’s sign was a white awning with the words LOVE YOU CHOCOLATE in red, all of the O’s in the shape of hearts.
“I really, really want more,” Ana groaned. Trying to explain pregnancy cravings was like trying to describe an orgasm.
You could, but no one else would ever really understand.
“The trolley goes in a loop,” Brie said. “If we stay aboard, it will take us right back to the car. Can you wait until then? You know Auntie will have tons of candy for us.”
Three-quarters of the riders had climbed off by the time the trolley doors closed. Ana relaxed into the seat as much as she could, the bottom of her belly resting on her upper thighs.
“Fine. But I’m going to eat as much as I want without shame.”
“Deal.”
“Next stop, Love You Coffee!” the driver called out in a voice that only a trained tour operator could have. “Who needs their caffeine fix?”
“I only get one cup a day and I already had it,” Ana moaned.
“Decaf, Ana. You can have decaf.”
“That’s true.”
“Good thing you were never a coffee addict.”
“I’m not, but I always had two cups a day. I never realized how much I loved that second cup.”
“We can swing by the coffee shop after we see Auntie.”
“Won’t she be offended? She always offers such a lovely tea spread.”
As they talked, Ana marveled at the quaint downtown, which looked like a Norman Rockwell painting done in three colors: red, pink, and white.
Every sign had a heart on it.
Love You Jewelers. Kendrill’s Market. Love You Coffee. Love You Books.
Love You India made her stomach growl, a mental note made to go there for lunch tomorrow. They drove past the dry cleaner’s, Labrecque’s, and the radio station with WLUV shining in pink and white. Ana noticed that some shops followed the Love You naming conventions and some didn’t.
Was it age, she wondered? The older stores kept their original names? She’d have to ask Lucinda.
At the far end of downtown, the trolley made a U-turn in front of Bilbee’s Tavern.
“Auntie says they’re up to no good in there. Shameful, vulgar people,” Brie whispered in a stage voice.
“Then we have to go there,” Ana purred back. It was an old joke. They’d eaten at the tavern plenty of times as kids with their parents, and as older teens had played pool and darts when they visited, though always to a sniff of disapproval from Lucinda.
Ana loved coming back to Luview. Brie visited far more often and always filled her in on changes, but what Ana enjoyed most about the town was how she measured herself in it.
Viewing “Love You, Maine” through the eyes of a child, then an adolescent, and finally as an adult meant seeing different versions of herself in the town.
And now, she thought, rubbing her belly, her son would do the same.