Chapter 12
Marlowe
The brilliant-blue siding and white shutters of Smoke on the Water made the Charlevoix restaurant look like a cottage you’d return to after a morning at the beach.
Inside, the hardwood floors creaked softly beneath the shuffle of boots and sneakers.
The smoker out back perfumed the air with hickory and pecan, and the whole place felt warm and welcoming on the chilly early fall morning.
Marlowe arrived early, which was unusual for her.
She blamed the nerves rattling through her.
She felt jittery as the squirrels going crazy gathering nuts for the winter.
Shrugging off her bright blue jacket, she wished her hands would stop shaking.
Her block-heeled pumps looked all wrong for this casual place, but she was headed up to the office after this.
A little self conscious and very anxious about this meeting with Sam, she tucked her feet under her chair.
She might have a baby. Well, really she’d be carrying Izzy’s baby. The thought strobed through her mind in excited, startled bursts. Unexpectedly sweet. Terrifying. Huge.
The waitress came and Marlowe quickly ordered a coffee.
When it came, she wrapped her hands around the warm mug and let the heat work its way into her fingers.
So much depended on this meeting and it had to be handled right.
She was meeting Sam to talk about the possible surrogacy.
Marlowe knew how her sister could be. Sam could shift in older-sister gear.
Marlowe understood where that came from.
Her sister had given up a lot after their parents’ tragic accident.
Basically, at seventeen she’d had to take over. But they weren’t teenagers anymore.
Divorce had changed Sam. That much had become evident.
Since their reunion at Sunnycrest, Marlowe had seen a softer, more vulnerable side of her sister.
The divorce had been something Sam had no control over.
And that must have been hard. In recent years the sisters had grown apart and now Marlowe was enjoying their late night talks about Sam’s marriage, Marlowe’s move from Florida, and life in general.
She didn’t want to lose that closeness by wrangling over this surrogacy issue.
Sunlight fell through the broad front windows of the restaurant, lifting her spirits and helping Marlowe feel hopeful. For a moment she felt suspended between two lives—her old single, independent Naples life and this new Northern Michigan version grounded in family.
The door blew open and a handful of leaves tumbled in with her sister.
Marlowe waved her back to the corner table.
Sam headed over—cheeks pink and curls wind-tossed.
She was dressed in warm browns that made her look like she’d stepped out of a fall catalog.
How could Josh McCall not see how special she was?
After sliding into the chair across from Marlowe, Sam puffed out a breath and gave a harried smile. “Sorry I’m late. Big morning.”
“You okay?” Marlowe offered her the menu.
“Sure. Just deadlines. A pitch coming up. You know how it is.”
With that, Sam set the menu aside and launched into a rundown of her work.
Marlowe listened, studying her older sister's face.
Sam looked better than she had last winter—less brittle around the eyes and not so knotted up inside.
Still, Marlowe was picking up an underlying sadness.
Maybe Josh was the reason. Marlowe had come prepared with questions.
“Sounds like you’re busy,” she said. Did all this information about her projects mean Sam was too busy? Had she reconsidered the surrogacy? That would be such a relief.
But her sister shrugged and glanced at the menu. “I’m used to the stresses of advertising.”
“Didn’t we move here to relax?” Marlowe said. “I mean, we’re both still career women, but there’s a totally different vibe here. I’m enjoying the slower pace, are you?”
Sam seemed to consider her words and a grin came out. “You’re right. Thanks for reminding me. Volunteering for bingo with you and Izzy balances my work. And now the nursery at the hospital.”
Ah, here they were. She’d mentioned babies.
Picking up the menu, Sam glanced at it. Their waitress came over, and they ordered. Marlowe chose the smoked brisket benedict, while Sam opted for an omelet with caramelized bacon jam and a single lemon curd pancake. Marlowe felt so nervous. Would she even be able to eat?
“We have a lot to talk about,” Sam said once the waitress stepped away.
Marlowe took a bracing sip of her coffee. “We sure do.”
The quiet corner table suddenly felt smaller, almost like a boxing ring.
But maybe that was all in her head. They weren’t teenagers anymore, arguing about the sweater Marlowe had returned to Sam with some oil stains on it from the go-carts.
This was different. Life-changing. And they both wanted it.
She hadn’t slept well last night, and she’d heard Sam’s toilet flush twice.
Sam leaned in with one of those determined looks on her face.
This was how their older sister had looked when she decided Izzy needed help selling Girl Scout cookies.
So they went out and canvased Naperville, selling hundreds of boxes.
Marlowe and Sam were exhausted. Izzy won a prize.
“I think you should let me handle this,” Sam said.
“Really, why is that?” Wow. She hadn’t expected that determination. How could Marlowe ease her sister into an open discussion? “Let’s start with what our lives will look like for the next year. You know, our relationships and work commitments.”
Sam’s brows lifted. “You mean with whom when you talk about relationships. ”
So she’d noticed the way Marlowe had been sneaking off for Brad’s calls.
Marlowe tried to play it cool. “If you mean Brad and me, we’re just dating.”
But her smile gave her away, and Sam’s smirk said so.
“Just dating? Marlowe, ‘just dating’ doesn’t usually involve leaving the room every time the guy calls. And lately those calls seem to go on forever.”
“Sam.” Marlowe shot her a warning look, but her sister was right.
“What? I’m your sister. Of course I noticed. We’re living together. Aunt Cate notices too.”
“Okay,” Marlowe couldn’t deny it. “Things feel…good. Really good with Brad. But new. And delicate.”
She didn’t want to share too much yet—especially with the competitive air that had crept into this conversation. Talking about Brad felt like letting go of something private and precious.
Sam angled her head. “If you carried a baby, how would Brad feel about it?”
Marlowe nearly snorted coffee through her nose. “Well, he’d know it isn’t his.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Sam’s tone had sharpened. “Pregnancy changes a relationship. At least, I think it would. I’m only asking if you’ve thought about that.”
Marlowe bristled just a little. She’d take a different approach. “I’m a little younger than you are, Sam.”
Sam blinked. “By two years. Good grief.”
“Well, it matters.” At least, she thought it did. Maybe.
“Does it?” Sam asked coolly. “Because pregnancy isn’t just about being younger. It’s about support. Stability. Timing. Dedication.”
Marlowe opened her mouth, then shut it. She knew that tone. Authoritative. This was the voice Sam had used after their parents’ death. Sam had held everything together after Aunt Cate and Uncle Monty had gone back to New York. Marlowe had to respect her for that.
Thank goodness their food arrived, and they both dug in. But the tension hovered like steam over their plates.
After a few bites, Marlowe tried again. “What about you and Josh? How would he feel about you being pregnant?” She hated to go there but Sam had started this.
Sam froze and set her fork down. Then her eyes softened. Was she fighting tears?
“Oh, Sam,” Marlowe murmured, feeling terrible. She definitely hadn’t taken the high road on that one.
Sam fished in her handbag for a tissue. “It’s not going well. The truth is, it’s going anywhere at all.”
“I’m so sorry.” Marlowe knew how her sister’s heart worked. When she committed, she committed. After she’d reconnected with Josh, the family thought this was a forever solution. He’d been so caring when Sam injured her ankle on the cross country ski trail last winter.
Tucking the tissue away, Sam shrugged and her mouth twisted. “I guess I wanted him to want a future with me. A real future. But he’s not ready. And his mother…” Sam exhaled sharply. “Marie’s made it clear the family was doing just fine before I came along.”
Heat crept up Marlowe’s neck. “I’d like to go over there and shake that woman.”
Sam laughed weakly. “Get in line.”
They both went back to eating, while they probably were processing the issues involved with surrogacy.
Sam straightened her shoulders. “I’m not factoring Josh into this. Having Izzy’s baby would be incredible. I’d love to give her that.” Her voice had become wistful.
Oh, here was another approach, but that soft, possessive edge was there again. The one that said I want to give this. Badly. And I will do everything right.
Marlowe’s stomach clutched. She really didn’t know why she wanted this so bad.
In her years of supporting herself and building a professional life, she’d never thought about babies.
Sure, she’d gone to a couple of baby showers, but she’d never looked at all that sweet smelling stuff and thought, Wow I want this.
Neither one of them had ever had a baby.
They’d have to depend on Izzy and YouTube videos.
Marlowe had referred to it a lot when she was studying for her real estate exams. Maybe Sam thought she’d have a leg up on this since she was volunteering in the hospital nursery.
But that was ridiculous. Ducking her head, Marlowe concentrated on her food.
They continued eating, both more thoughtful now.
The beef brisket felt like straw in her mouth.
Marlowe had a hard time swallowing. Maybe they were both thinking about their next strategic point.
After the waitress came and refilled their coffee mugs, Sam pushed aside her half eaten food.
“So,” she said, “what’s our next step? I’ve been online all night researching surrogacy guidelines.”
“Me too.” Marlowe took a breath. “First thing? Physical exams. Just to see if we each qualify.”
“Do you think we might not?” Sam looked startled. “I guess we should check on that.”
“Right. Maybe a physical is the first step.” Marlowe would not point out that she was a runner, built for endurance, or so she thought. She knew Izzy had been in contact with an office in Traverse City that had handled freezing her eggs. They also offered in vitro fertilization.
“Right.” Sam nodded slowly. “Do you have a physician here?”
“No. You?”
“Not yet. But Aunt Cate might have one.” This was said casually but Marlowe didn’t miss her sister’s nervous eye twitch.
“Samantha Quinn, have you already made an appointment? Don’t act like calling Aunt Cate’s doctor gives you a head start.”
She’d hit a switch and Sam drew back. “I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Have you been conniving with Aunt Cate?” That would be unlike her aunt and Marlowe was sorry she’d even put that out there.
“Come on, Marlowe. Absolutely not.”
Marlowe crossed her arms. “Why does this feel like a competition?”
“I guess in a way it is.”
And even though they were loving sisters who wanted the best for each other, they both knew she was right.
It was a competition. A tender, dangerous, hopeful one.
And the stakes had never been higher.
When Marlowe tried to grab the check, Sam snatched it from her hand. Marlowe let her. She had to get to her car to make a few calls.