5. Juniper
Juniper
Juniper sat knitting, half swallowed by the deep armchair that occupied one corner of the living room. It had become her spot lately, complete with a basketful of half-finished baby clothes. She had her feet up on a cushy ottoman and a tall glass of tea close at hand.
This far into the third trimester, she only climbed the stairs to her room when she was ready to retire for the night. Having a restful activity to do on the first floor helped to calm her mind when her body was too tired to keep up with her restless thoughts.
That day, she had set the baby clothes aside in favor of the sweaters that she had made for Piper and Paige. They were nearly done; she was just weaving in the ends.
“Hey Jun!” Kai ran across the room and held a folded piece of paper in front of her face. “Do you think Piper will like this?”
He had carefully printed the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY at the top. Below the blocky letters was a drawing of a rainbow-bright bird surrounded by leaves.
“She’ll love it,” Jun said. “Does Paige get one too?”
“Yeah.” Kai’s face was serious. “They already have to share a birthday. They shouldn’t have to share birthday cards .”
“Agreed.” She held up the cable-knit sweater she had made, pale green with wooden buttons. “Do you think Paige will like this?”
“I think so. Does Piper get one too?”
Juniper grinned and pulled Piper’s jumper out of her basket. This one was a blue pullover with an orange dragon winding around one arm.
“That’s amazing!” Kai said. “Can you make me one too?”
“For your birthday.”
“Aw man. That’s not until forever from now!”
“It’s only a few weeks away,” she laughed.
He perked up. “Really?”
“Really really.”
“Thanks, Jun.” He gave her an impulsive hug, leaning over one arm of the chair. “You’re the best.”
“You’re welcome.” She watched him go with a warm feeling in her chest.
Being an auntie to all of her little cousins felt so natural… maybe taking care of her own baby would come easily too.
She pulled up her favorite website for knitting patterns and started to browse, looking for the perfect sweater for Kai.
That would be a lot of knitting in a short time, but she could manage it.
She had already been warning her customers that she would be taking a break over the next couple of months, and she had managed to sell a lot of extra dried herbs to people who would miss their weekly tea.
Cody planned to fill in for her for a while, but they had agreed that they would both take a break from the markets when the baby arrived.
Their baby. A whole person.
The closer Jun got to meeting him, the more surreal it all felt.
“Are you done with your cards?” Emma asked Kai.
Juniper looked across the room and smiled. Her aunt had been out in the garden all morning; her face was streaked with dirt and sweat. Jun liked this new and improved Auntie Em: more grounded, more connected to the people around her. They were much closer now than they had ever been in California.
“Almost,” Kai was saying. “These horses just need some more flowers to snack on.”
“Okay.” Emma grinned. “Try and finish up in the next five minutes or so. I’m just going to jump in and out of the shower, and then we need to head up to the ranch.”
“You shouldn’t jump in the shower,” he told her solemnly. “You might slip.”
“Noted.” Emma turned to Jun and frowned at her pajama-clad legs. “Are you coming?”
Juniper swallowed and looked down at the sweater in her hands. “I don’t know.”
“The girls would love to see you.”
“I thought that maybe you could give them these for me.”
“Are you not feeling well?” Emma crossed the room and sat down on the foot stool in front of her.
“Just tired.”
Emma was quiet, looking at her.
“I don’t feel welcome,” she admitted, too quietly for Kai to hear.
“What do you mean?”
Juniper raised her gaze to Emma’s eyes and gave her a hard look.
“Tara?”
“Yeah.”
“I think she’d be glad to see you.”
“She came to the farmers market on Sunday, and she didn’t even look at me.”
Emma winced. “Maybe she didn’t see you.”
Jun folded her arms across her gigantic stomach. “Yeah, because I’m so easy to miss.”
“She hasn’t handled this well,” Emma admitted.
Juniper snorted in derision.
“She’s had a lot on her plate, with the move and the business and the kids.”
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Emma said with conviction. Her expression turned sad. “You two used to be so close. You were next door all the time, cooking with her, playing with the twins–”
“That was before.”
“It could be that way again. But someone has to make the first move.”
“She’s been ignoring me for months!”
“And you’ve been ignoring her right back. You can’t keep freezing each other out.”
“Why should I be the one to make the first move?”
“You shouldn’t have to,” her aunt admitted, looking troubled. “But if she’s not going to, then I guess it needs to be you.”
“She’s the grown-up,” she pouted.
“So are you,” Emma said with a pointed look at her distended stomach.
Jun wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I’ll come.”
“We’re leaving in ten,” Emma said as she stood.
“What happened to island time?” Jun called after her.
Her aunt didn’t respond.
Juniper sighed and quickly finished weaving in the loose ends on the two sweaters.
Then she hauled herself upstairs to change.
She’d found plenty of new-to-her clothes at the transfer stations around the island.
They were a great place to find maternity clothes, and baby clothes too – probably because neither of them got used for very long.
When they got up to the ranch, the twins’ party was already in full swing.
All of the Pualena Playschool kids were there, plus a dozen other kids from the girls’ homeschool groups.
Half of them were lined up waiting for a turn riding a trio of ponies that Liam’s daughter Maddie had brought out of the stables.
Cody was in the ring too, leading a horse that held two small kids. He was wearing a hat that Juniper had made for him, a dark yellow beanie that brought out the gold in his eyes. When he saw her, he handed the reins off to Maddie and vaulted the fence.
“You made it,” he said when he reached her. His expression was soft, and he took her hands in his.
“Here I am.” Her voice creaked with anxiety.
“Do you want some food?”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
He put an arm around her shoulders and stood beside her as she looked around, taking in the party. She felt stranded between the adults and the kids. Obviously she couldn’t go ride ponies with the nine year olds, but she didn’t feel comfortable joining in with the forty-somethings either.
The parents milled around tables loaded with Tara’s phenomenal cooking. Emma was there already, talking with Lani. She saw other friendly faces, but she wasn’t feeling sociable. It was too many people, and she was tired.
It was more than that, she admitted to herself after a moment. She didn’t like the way that some of these parents looked at her.
Markets were one thing; most of her customers probably assumed that she was in her twenties.
But the acquaintances in Pualena who knew her story…
well, they looked at her differently. Often with pity, sometimes with disgust. Even the looks of simple curiosity were starting to hurt her care-worn heart.
No, she didn’t have the stomach for that today. She should have stayed home, like she had wanted to originally.
“Is there a table for presents?” she asked, lifting up the twin gift bags that she had brought.
“Yeah, they’re inside.” Cody put one hand at the small of her back. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
They went up the front steps and into the cool interior of Liam’s farmhouse. There, on a long table by the door, was a whole pile of presents. Juniper balanced her bags carefully on top of the boxes, hoping that the girls would like what she had made.
“Oh!” Tara stumbled to a halt in the kitchen doorway, her eyes fixed on Jun.
“Hi.” Jun’s voice was squeaky and small. Anxiety crawled up and down her body as she crossed her arms over her belly. Her nails dug into her skin.
“Juniper knit sweaters for birthday gifts,” Cody said brightly.
“That’s wonderful.” Tara’s voice was tight and nervous, just like hers.
Juniper didn’t understand why. It was her house, her party, her kids. Jun was the interloper, the one with reasonable cause to be a nervous wreck. She couldn’t understand the anxious look in Tara’s eyes.
Suddenly it occurred to her that maybe Tara didn’t hate her. Maybe Cody’s mother had just retreated from a difficult situation, the same as she had. And then as the weeks and months stretched on, bridging the gap had felt more and more difficult.
“Do you need a hand in the kitchen?” Jun asked.
That was where they had always connected before, when they were neighbors. It was a small space, Tara’s old kitchen, but it had always felt warm and comfortable.
She had mothered Jun a bit, letting her lick the spoon and walking her through family recipes. So soon after her mom’s death, Juniper had been in desperate need of mothering.
Foolishly, she had thought that maybe carrying Tara’s grandchild would strengthen that relationship, that she would become more of a daughter to her.
But she wasn’t her daughter. She was just the trashy teenager who had trapped Tara’s son, and her warm welcome had frozen over the moment that she showed them the pregnancy test.
Now, standing in Tara’s home, she could see a refusal in her eyes.
“Everything’s already done,” the older woman said awkwardly.
Juniper’s stomach sank. “Okay.”
Tara sighed, and some of the tension seemed to flow out of her shoulders. “But I just made a pot of tea. It’s your mamaki citrus blend. Would you like some?”
A fragile hope fluttered in Jun’s chest, and she nodded.
“Come on through.” Tara turned and walked back into the kitchen.
Juniper’s feet felt stuck to the floor.