Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Three Months Later
It felt strange to be on a train in Los Angeles.
There were very few forms of public transportation in the city: buses and a couple of train lines that got you roughly where you usually didn’t want to go.
But as fortune would have it, Joni and Sam’s new house was located in Santa Monica, which was where a train dropped Stevie and Grayson Harris off at four p.m. on a Thursday.
Stevie had a knot in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do.
She also knew she didn’t have a choice. If she wanted to see her daughter again, if she wanted to mend old wounds, she had to push herself.
Love was the answer. It was also the question.
Beside her as they walked to the beach, Grayson stood tall and lanky, his face echoing his nerves.
Because of his environmentalism, he’d wanted to get to Los Angeles via buses and trains, and Stevie had gone with him.
Sitting across from him on trains, she looked at a face that wasn’t so different from the one she’d fallen in love with.
Through miles and miles of the American continent, they’d gotten to know one another again.
They’d picked up the narrative of a story that they’d both abandoned.
Grayson had ached to know more about Joni. But all Stevie had been able to muster about their daughter was how amazing she was. “I’ll let her fill in the gaps,” she’d said.
Joni expected them at five thirty, which gave them plenty of time.
They stood on the beach and watched the sun drop toward the ocean.
It looked like a burning coin. As they stood, a scrap of plastic washed up on the beach.
Stevie raced Grayson to pick it up and shoved it into her backpack, smiling at him. “Beat you,” she said.
Grayson laughed and touched his hair. “You did. I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re always one step ahead of me.”
To kill time, they sat at a beachside coffee shop with mugs of tea. It was in the low seventies and sunny, which felt gorgeous after their months on the East Coast. It felt incredible to think of everything that had happened.
After their big talk at the Copperfield Christmas party, Grayson and Camille had extended their stay at the Nantucket hotel indefinitely.
They’d spent Christmas with the Copperfields, eating far more of Greta’s food than any human ever should.
Stevie had been very nervous around Camille, but Camille had opened her heart to Stevie, sharing stories about growing up with Grayson in a way that, strangely, hadn’t hurt Stevie too much.
It wasn’t till the new year that Camille started dropping hints that they needed to go out and see Joni. “She deserves to know,” she’d said solemnly.
Stevie knew that Camille couldn’t wait to meet her American half sister. But that would come later, after Stevie mended her relationship with Joni.
Because Joni had blocked her mother’s number, Grayson himself had reached out to Joni via email, of all things.
He’d introduced himself as Grayson Harris, CEO of Water Works and “your father.” He’d told her that he was with her mother, that they both wanted to see her and explain everything.
It had taken Joni three days to get back to him.
The email had been formal, but it had offered a date and time in the near future. Grayson and Stevie had confirmed.
Now, they were finally here.
Stevie watched Grayson sip his tea slowly.
The Pacific breeze ruffled his hair. She felt a familiar wave of love for him, one she swallowed down.
She wasn’t sure what was happening between them, nor if anything ever would again.
What was important to her was Joni. She wanted to mend every conceivable hurt.
“I keep wondering,” Grayson confessed quietly, “what if she doesn’t like me?”
Stevie let out a surprised laugh. She couldn’t fathom anyone not liking Grayson.
Ella and Will were enamored with him. Greta had a big crush that she refused to conceal.
Now that the American public had forgotten his private flight escapade, they published only articles about how wonderful his mission was and how sure they were that he would clean up the oceans.
Stevie already knew, without talking to Joni first, that Joni was proud to have a father like Grayson.
If anything, she guessed that Joni couldn’t believe that Stevie had ever been with someone like Grayson.
She knew she hadn’t seemed so impressive to Joni over the years.
She’d barely hung on, paying apartment, food, and car bills like she was about to fall over the edge. She couldn’t believe they’d made it.
When it was time, Grayson and Stevie paid their bill and walked the rest of the way to Joni and Sam’s new house.
As they neared it, Stevie lost her breath.
She’d seen where Sam had grown up, so she knew what he was used to.
But she hadn’t fully prepared herself for the incredible wealth that her daughter’s life evoked.
At the front door, Grayson and Stevie looked at one another. Stevie felt the same mystery she’d felt when she’d first gone home with Grayson. What was going to happen next?
“You should ring the bell,” Grayson said.
“You do it,” Stevie whispered. She was terrified.
Finally, Grayson raised his finger and pressed the bell.
It was a singsong, friendly, and it filled the whole house.
Next came the soft sounds of Joni’s feet, padding to meet them.
When she opened the door, her eyes were rimmed with a violent red.
She looked beautiful and fierce. Before she could say anything, there was a noise from upstairs.
It was the sound of her baby, wailing.
Stevie’s heart leaped into her throat. She felt her daughter’s terror.
She felt her granddaughter’s torment. She felt the confusion of being a new mother, echoing on her daughter’s face, and she wished Joni had let her help her during her early days of motherhood.
How she wished she could have held her hand.
“I’m sorry,” Joni whispered. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
Grayson didn’t hesitate. He swept forward and hugged his daughter, then said, “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up later. But I think your mother wants to help you. Will you let her?”
Joni looked pale and tiny next to her father. Stevie wavered in the doorway, unsure if Joni wanted to let her in. After this, she would call Ella and say, “I thought maybe I should turn around and run. I was petrified. But when Joni beckoned for me to come in, my cold heart melted.”
Stevie stepped into the foyer and found herself face-to-face with her daughter. But there wasn’t much time. The baby upstairs needed them.
“I’ll get her bottle,” Joni whispered.
“I’ll go upstairs,” Stevie offered.
“She doesn’t know you,” Joni pointed out softly.
Stevie felt a stab of fear. But before she could answer that, Grayson said, “She’ll recognize Stevie’s love for her. That’s all that matters.”
This seemed to calm Joni down, for now.
Joni disappeared into the kitchen, while Grayson gestured for Stevie to go upstairs without him. He sat in the front room and folded his hands on his lap. He looked confident and calm. Stevie supposed this was part of the reason he’d had such success in life. He looked the part.
Slowly, she went upstairs, following the sound of her granddaughter’s sobs. She wondered where Sam was, then dismissed the thought, sensing that Sam had “better” things to do. He was surely off somewhere, making money to buy the things that made him who he was.
When she stepped into the nursery, Stevie’s breath caught in her throat.
For there was her granddaughter, a gorgeous and blond little girl of eight months, her cheeks red, her eyes searching.
Stevie went over to her, bent down, and wrapped her in her arms. After a last cry, the baby calmed and peered at Stevie curiously. Stevie felt crushed with love for her.
“It’s me, honey,” she said, pressing her lips against her granddaughter’s forehead in a kiss. “I’m here to take care of you. I’m here to take care of your mom. I’ll stay for as long as you need me.”
When Joni entered the nursery, she wore a look of endless fatigue.
She held a bottle and had a towel over her shoulder.
She collapsed in the rocking chair and looked at her mother and her baby.
Stevie saw her own face in Joni’s face. She saw herself as a lonely woman with a baby.
It didn’t matter that she’d raised her baby in a tiny apartment so different from this house.
What mattered was that she’d felt so alone in it.
“So,” Joni said finally, handing over the bottle so Stevie could have the pleasure of feeding her granddaughter. “That’s my father.”
“That’s your father,” Stevie said with a nod.
Joni crossed her arms, as though she didn’t know what to do with them. The baby took the bottle immediately. Stevie felt a sense of purpose.
“It’s not always like this,” Joni whispered.
“I know,” Stevie said. “I remember.”
Joni closed her eyes. They held a tender moment of silence, listening to the baby's soft suckles, drinking. “Mom, I’ve been so sick,” Joni said. “I haven’t been right in the head. I’m sorry I blocked you. I’m sorry you weren’t here when she was born.”
Stevie gazed at her daughter, marveling at how beautiful she was despite her fatigue. “Honey, you’re already forgiven,” she said. “You could never do anything to make me mad at you forever. I only want to love you.”
Joni squeezed her eyes shut. “I only want to love you too.”
They were quiet again. Abruptly, Stevie remembered Grayson, waiting patiently downstairs. They’d never needed him, not really. They didn’t need him at all now, either.
But it was so lovely to know he was downstairs and wanted to be in their lives.
Stevie didn’t know what was going to happen next. Here in the thick of early motherhood, Joni couldn’t either. But Stevie knew they were going to hold on to one another, no matter what. That was what counted the most.