Chapter 29
Marlowe
When Brad reached Marlowe’s road, the Jeep’s headlights swept the lawn sloping down to the road in front of Sunnycrest.
“Whose pickup is that?” Brad eased off the accelerator.
Marlowe leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. The truck sat just beyond the reach of the porch light, dark and anonymous against the trees.
“It looks like Seth Barrett’s,” she said slowly.
“Looks like?”
“He drove something like that when he was working on the house. Seth owns a couple of vehicles.”
Brad pulled in behind the pickup, the Jeep’s headlights briefly illuminating a ladder rack and a dented tailgate. Yep, sure looked like his.
Had Aunt Cate said anything about Seth coming over? Marlowe searched the day’s conversations and came up empty. A movie night. A friend. That was all.
“I don’t know. But I suppose so.” Marlowe was baffled. “While the work was going on at Sunnycrest, she tried to set me up with Seth.”
“Really?” Brad turned and she loved the horror on his face. “Glad that didn’t work out.”
Me too. But she didn’t tell him that.
The light over the front door glowed, and for a moment Marlowe felt like she was coming home from a high school date.
Those were the summer days when they might linger in the car after a bonfire on the beach, just talking and maybe a little more until Sam flicked the lights.
Her sister had a lot of responsibility back then.
Marlowe smiled at the memory. Next to her Brad rested his hands on the steering wheel, obviously not eager to end the evening.
She felt the same. The time with his family had been special.
“Well, what do you think? That wasn’t too bad, was it?” He almost sounded worried.
“Not at all,” she said. “I think it went really well. Did I pass the test?”
“With flying colors.” Brad’s mouth curved. “You handled them like a pro. I told you my mom would love you.”
“She made it easy. I can’t remember the last time someone wanted me to take home leftovers.”
“That’s her love language,” he said, laughing. “Food and unsolicited advice.”
Brad cut the engine and the night folded around them, quiet except for the faint swish of the lake beyond the trees.
“Nicole is lovely,” Marlowe added, unbuckling her seat belt. “And her husband. Trace too. They seem to really care about each other.”
“Trace is a good guy and a great father. He’ll talk your ear off about ice fishing if you let him.”
“I liked him. Shaun and Sarah are adorable. Brad, you are so sweet with them.”
He looked embarrassed. “They’re good kids. You saw what Uno does to me. I get competitive. I used to babysit for those two sometimes when Nic was working double shifts. She’s a nurse at the hospital and still picks up a shift now and then.”
She laughed softly. “You let Sarah win tonight.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, grin widening. “I want them to realize that when it comes to games, it’s an even playing field.”
Marlowe liked that. She opened her window and for a while they just sat there together in the darkness.
Tilting her head back, she gazed up at Sunnycrest. The family home stood silhouetted against the night sky.
The faded cream clapboards had become a new bright white and she liked the sage green trim.
Every line of the house was familiar and yet slightly different since the renovation. She might say the same about herself.
The family legend was that their grandfather Clarence, a Chicago politician, had won the rambling four-bedroom house in a poker game.
Every summer the family had packed up as soon as school was out.
And now it was their year-round home. Marlowe had come from Florida, determined to make a life here.
She was ready for anything. Did that include a future with Brad?
“You’re looking sleepy,” Brad said, cracking open his door. “Guess I should get you home.”
He came around to her side of the Jeep and they climbed the steps together. Holding her hand, he brushed a thumb lightly over her knuckles, as if committing her to memory. By the time they reached the front door, she’d decided this had been a perfect night.
“You know,” he said quietly, “bringing you tonight felt… right.”
Marlowe was feeling the same. Before she could respond, Brad leaned in—not rushed, but not tentative either. His lips met hers with a steadiness, like someone who already knew the answer to a question she was still forming.
She melted into his warmth and familiar scent. His hand settled at her waist, like it belonged there. For Marlowe the second kiss felt like recognition. Maybe Brad is my future. When he tipped up her chin, she thought she saw the answer in his eyes.
“My dad asked me what took me so long to bring you over. And Mom said I should probably hang on tight because women like you don’t come along twice.”
“How sweet.” Marlowe laughed softly, flustered by the compliments. “I really enjoyed myself.”
“I could tell. You were glowing.”
She smiled, though the word glowing tugged at a quiet ache in her chest. Pregnant women glow, she thought. Would she be glowing soon, pregnant with her sister’s baby? How would she look?
Brad must have seen something shift in her expression. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Just tired, I guess.”
He studied her face. “Are you thinking about the surrogacy thing again?”
How did he know that? “A little.”
“Still wondering if I’ll have a problem with it?”
Was the man a mind reader? “Well, yes. Are you sure you’ll be fine?”
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Absolutely. Why not? You’re an amazing woman.”
She wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe it wouldn’t change the way he looked at her or the way his perfect, tight knit family saw her. But she shelved the thought.
“Goodnight, Brad,” she said softly.
“Goodnight, Marlowe.” He backed away. “Say hi to your family for me.”
She watched him walk down the steps to his Jeep, watched the red taillights disappear down the road before going inside.
The front door creaked a little bit when she pushed it open, trying to make as much noise as possible in case she was interrupting something in the living room. Marlowe chuckled to herself. The smell of buttered popcorn drifted through the front hall.
“Is that you, Marlowe?” her aunt called out.
“Who else would it be?” She kicked off her flats and hung up her coat.
“We’re in here!”
Marlowe followed the sound to the living room.
The lights were low, the television flickering with what looked like The Wedding Crashers.
Aunt Cate sat curled on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn between her and Seth Barrett.
Dressed in her camel pants, lime sweater and matching socks, she looked comfortable.
Marlowe paused in the doorway. “Enjoying the movie?”
“Oh, yes. It’s so funny,” Aunt Cate said. “Old, but I’ve never seen it.”
Seth looked up, grinning. “It’s completely unrealistic. Who crashes weddings anymore?”
“Apparently Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn,” Aunt Cate said dryly, looking back at the screen.
Seth chuckled. “Okay, it is a funny movie. I just don’t buy the premise.”
Her aunt paused the TV and waved Marlowe closer. “Sit down, sweetheart. Tell us all about dinner.”
Marlowe laughed. “You want the full report?”
“Of course I do. I’ve been dying to know more about Brad’s family.”
Marlowe perched on the armchair across from them. “It was lovely. His mother made roast beef and baked potatoes. Everything was very traditional, very comforting. The kind of meal that says, ‘we’re solid Midwestern stock and proud of it.’”
“My kind of food.” Seth nodded approvingly. “Can’t go wrong with that.”
“Brad’s mom was a cook at the high school cafeteria for years,” Marlowe continued, “and his dad used to be a postman. They’re both retired now. I think they enjoyed having someone new to fuss over.”
Her aunt leaned forward. “And how did you feel about them?”
“Comfortable. They’re very down-to-earth. His sister Nicole and her husband were there too with their kids. Shaun’s three and Sarah’s five. We played Uno with them after dinner.”
Cate smiled knowingly. “I can just see that. Brad’s got that playful streak.”
“Yeah,” Marlowe said softly. “He’s good with them.”
They talked for a while, her aunt wanting more details and Seth injecting dry humor. But when the bowl of popcorn was nearly empty and the movie credits were rolling, he stood up.
“I should get going,” he said. “Early start tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to rush off,” Aunt Cate said, but she shook out her legs and rose to her feet.
“I’m, ah, leaving.” Marlowe felt she’d overstayed her welcome, but cripes, this was her aunt.
“Thanks for the movie, Cate.”
Marlowe watched them move toward the hallway. Something about the body language caught her attention. When Seth’s hand brushed her aunt’s back, the way she smiled up at him made Marlowe wonder. She tore her eyes away
The front door closed gently behind him. “Did you kiss him goodnight?” Marlowe edged into the hall.
Aunt Cate’s eyes widened. “Marlowe!”
“Just asking.”
Her aunt gave a half laugh. “No, I most certainly did not kiss him goodnight. Seth is just a friend.”
“Mm-hm.” Marlowe folded her arms. “You two looked pretty cozy on that sofa.”
Aunt Cate blushed, rare for her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Seth is a lovely man. But he’s also much younger.”
“So?” Hadn’t they gone over this point before? “Welcome to the modern world. Brad is a little younger than me too. Doesn’t matter. Not if you have feelings for each other, and you obviously do.”
“Now let’s talk about you. Something’s on your mind. I can tell.” Her aunt knew her so well.
They moved back to the living room and sofa. “I keep thinking about what it’ll be like being pregnant, but not for myself. Sometimes I wonder if I’m ready for what comes after.”
Cate studied her for a long moment. “Do you mean you might not want to give the baby up?”
“No, no. I’ll probably be relieved.” Then she sighed. “Guess I won’t know until I’m in that situation. I just hope things turn out all right.”
“That it doesn’t affect your relationship with Brad?”
“Exactly. I mean, I’m probably going to be big and fat.” What a grim thought. She dropped her face into her hands.
“You’ve always been the one who considers every angle. That’s a strength, but it can also keep you from moving ahead.”
Marlowe threw back her head. “Oh, I’m moving ahead all right. Is that what you’re doing?” Marlowe would be so happy if her aunt were at that point.
“I don’t know. It’s unsettling,” Cate said, staring into her tea. “To realize you might still be capable of wanting something you’d already grieved.”
Ah, so she did want something…or someone. The Quinn women had always been complicated. Marlowe accepted that. Well, she didn’t want to unpack that comment, not tonight. She eased into talking about Holly and how she might accept the baby. Eventually, they said goodnight.
Marlowe tiptoed up the back stairs. The house was so still.
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees.
A branch brushed against the house. Her head full of this wonderful day, she undressed slowly and slipped into her nightshirt and socks.
Then she sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the moonlight painting the floor in white. Life was full of unexpected turns.
Snuggling back into her bed, she pulled the quilt up to her chin.
Her condo in Florida had always been so still, isolated by double pane windows.
After her months at Sunnycrest, she would find that quiet disturbing.
She loved listening to the steady heartbeat of the old house: the creak of the stairs, the faint hum of the new refrigerator, and the natural life outside that continued to delight her.
Life here had become full of new beginnings.
In high school she’d read a poem called “The Road Less Traveled.” And right now, Marlowe felt like she was on that road. She didn’t know where it would end. Maybe she’d follow Brad’s advice and not overthink it.