Chapter 15
Juliette was ready for a night out, even if it was low-key and local.
Vivianne mentioned a make-your-own pottery class over at Erin’s studio, which sounded like something she’d love to do anyway, but was made even better by the fact that her sisters would be there too.
Granted, Juliette would have to carefully navigate the dangerous waters of tension between herself and Anne-Sophie, but she was willing to take the first step in mending their shaky relationship.
Bundled up in her coat, she dipped her chin and headed out into the cold to meet her sisters at Lovely Mud.
Mama had agreed to lock up the shop behind her, but their conversation had been fleeting as they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Again.
Juliette was certain the only reason her mother even volunteered to close was because she knew Vivianne, Adrienne, and Anne-Sophie were also going.
So, Juliette offered a small wave without really saying goodbye and walked the few blocks down to Lovely Mud.
She ignored the way the wind sliced through her leggings and tossed her ponytail in front of her face. She was seconds away from stepping into the pottery shop, and into the embrace of warmth, when her cell phone blared to life.
Juliette hesitated. Surely whoever was calling her could wait, but curiosity got the best of her. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and saw Gabrielle’s picture illuminating the screen.
“Hey, Gabi.” She leaned back against the brick front of the pottery shop, crossing one arm over her to keep the chill away. “What’s up?”
“Hi, Jules.” Her sister sounded off. Distant. “Just got off a mid shift. What are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready to go to this pottery class thing. It was Viv’s idea.” She tried to keep her tone neutral, as though making pottery was boring. The last thing she wanted was for Gabrielle to feel left out.
“Oh yeah, Viv told me that was tonight.”
Damn. So much for trying to avoid hurting Gabrielle’s feelings.
“Adrienne and Anne-Sophie are going too, right?”
“Yes.” Juliette winced. “I wish you were here with us.”
“I know. Me too.” A sigh sounded from the other end of the line. “The next time Jeremiah leaves for training, I’ll come out to see all of you. I need a break.”
Juliette could hear it then, the fresh pain of someone who had recently been broken. She sucked in a breath but knew she had to ask. “How bad?”
“I lost one.” Gabrielle’s voice cracked.
Juliette knew her sister was crying those strong, silent tears.
She knew she was trying not to break down, trying not to lose complete control.
Her heart ached for Gabrielle, twisted in the worst way imaginable.
She couldn’t fathom the agony, the overwhelming fear, the burdening guilt, of not being able to save a baby’s life.
Of knowing she did everything she could, and it wasn’t enough.
But she knew Gabrielle, and she knew she had to let those emotions out.
She had to force them from her so she could go back into her next shift without the weight of the world upon her heart.
And Juliette was the one who would listen.
“It’s okay,” she whispered softly, offering as much sympathy as possible through the phone. “You can tell me.”
Gabrielle sucked in a breath. “She was beautiful. Seven pounds, nine ounces. But—”
A choking gasp strangled her sister, and Juliette’s heart lurched.
“But the cord detached during delivery.” The words spilled from Gabrielle between shattering sobs. “Jules, she…she bled out. Their first baby and we couldn’t save her. We tried for an hour, but we…we couldn’t bring her back.”
Juliette’s throat closed, and she ached, ached for Gabrielle. For the baby she couldn’t save. For a couple she’d never met who wouldn’t get to watch their little girl grow up. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away.
It was agony. Raw, torturous agony.
“Gabrielle.” Juliette swallowed, forced down the knot of despair trying to suffocate her. “You did everything you could. You’re trained for this. That baby girl got the best care you could possibly give her. It’s not your fault. Do you understand? It’s not your fault.”
“I know.” Gabrielle sniffed. “But it hurts so much.”
It would always hurt, and it wouldn’t ever get easier. That much would stay the same.
“Not all of them can be saved.” It was a gentle reminder, but one Gabrielle needed to hear. Otherwise she would never survive. She would never make it through another shift if she let the weight of a loss bury her.
“I’m sorry, Juliette. I just needed to talk to—”
“Don’t you ever apologize for this. Not for this. Not ever. I don’t want you to think you’re alone, or that you’re bothering me with your problems. I’ll always be here, especially when you need to unburden all the hurt. Your career is not for the faint of heart.”
“Thank you.” A breath shuddered out of Gabrielle on the other end of the line. “I’m going to go buy a pint of ice cream and a bottle of wine.”
“You do that.” Juliette smiled. “And don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“I won’t. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Juliette waited for the phone to disconnect, refusing to be the first to hang up. She took a deep inhale of the frigid air and steadied her nerves. Once she was halfway certain she had regained most of her composure, she walked into Lovely Mud.
“Jules!” Vivianne popped up from behind a set of pottery wheels and waved her over. “We saved you a spot.”
Her workspace was next to Adrienne, but across from Anne-Sophie.
Her youngest sister sent a harsh scowl in her direction.
There were a few other ladies in attendance for Erin’s class, Miss Bobbie being most notable.
Her brows rose in interest, as though she thoroughly expected a show of some sort.
Well, she was going to be sadly disappointed.
She offered a friendly smile and moved to take her seat behind a pottery wheel next to Adrienne.
“What’s wrong?” Adrienne’s brow furrowed as she zeroed in on Juliette’s expression. “What happened?”
Vivianne instantly whipped around, and even Anne-Sophie glanced over, though she pretended to be uninterested.
Juliette lowered her voice and blew out a harsh breath. “I just got off the phone with Gabi. She lost one tonight.”
At once, her sisters’ faces fell.
They knew what it meant. Of course they did.
Even though Anne-Sophie had been only ten years old when Gabrielle left home and married Jeremiah, she was well aware of what her oldest sister did for a living.
She understood Gabrielle’s career as a NICU nurse came with the heavy emotions of joy and grief.
Juliette was spared from having to relay any details as Erin’s cheery voice filled the room.
“Okay, ladies.” Erin glided into the work area as bright as ever. She was a brilliant distraction from the cloud of gloom hanging over them. “Who’s ready to throw some clay and create some art?”
Her layered hair was swept back with a velvet headband, and her smile illuminated the room. Tonight she wore jeans with silver studs along the seam, and her indigo blouse hung off one shoulder. Bracelets jingled at her wrists, and tiny gold hoops hung from her ears.
Erin gave them a rundown of instructions but emphasized the need for artistic freedom and reminded them to move the clay as they saw fit. It was a matter of flow, of allowing the clay to take its own shape as opposed to designing by force.
Juliette took the wet clay in her hands, and the thick substance slid through her fingers.
It was slippery and squishy, ready to be formed and molded.
It was so fascinating how something so basic, so plain, could be transformed into something magnificent.
She slowly pumped her foot on the pedal, and the wheel began to spin.
“So, Jules,” Vivianne began as she started her own wheel, but her red lips were pulled to the side as she watched the mud ruin her manicure. “How’s it going with the beach house?”
“We haven’t had any more pushback yet from Brock’s dad, so that’s a relief.” Juliette considered letting the damp clay become a bowl, as it was widening, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to make it more condensed.
“Be one with the clay and the wheel.” Erin walked slowly about the workspace, her bracelets tinkling with each step. “Let the clay guide you. It’s okay to give it a nudge, but don’t feel as though your first attempt at pottery has to be perfect.”
“I think it’s a great idea. A beachside wedding venue would be perfect for Mystic Cove.” Adrienne frowned down at her clay. It was moving and shifting into a sort of oblong shape. “Have you thought of a design palette yet?”
“Yes. Cool colors and neutrals. Coastal yet classic. Elegant and chic, but not overbearing. I’m also thinking of commissioning local artisans for the decor. Erin gave me the idea, actually.” Juliette still had to meet with her to discuss the formalities, but overall it was an exciting prospect.
She looked up from her wheel to find Anne-Sophie staring at her. “What do you think, Soph?”
“Since when have you ever cared about what I thought?”
Were it not for the spinning of pottery wheels and the strange sloshing sound of damp clay, the silence would have been deafening.
Juliette tried to shake off the barb, but it stung. Deep.
“I’ve always cared,” she murmured, careful to keep her voice down. The other ladies, Miss Bobbie especially, had a keen ear for gossip, and Juliette didn’t want to give them any ammo. “I just haven’t always been good at showing it.”
“Obviously,” Anne-Sophie sneered, focusing on her own pottery wheel, where her clay was morphing into a blob of unidentifiable proportions.
“Okay, children.” Adrienne tried to defuse the situation, but it only ignited Anne-Sophie further.