Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Simon hadn’t returned to bed when I fell asleep, but by the time I wake up in the morning, he’s lying next to me again.
Shame washes over me as I sit up, though I have no reason to be ashamed or feel guilty.
The rational, adult part of me knows that.
I know I did what I thought was right, what I still think is right.
But there’s a smaller, no less loud part of me that is embarrassed I let the Mornings down, and I’m confused about what this means.
I want them to like me; that’s at the heart of it. This family has welcomed me with open arms to this place where I finally feel at home, and yet, there is a part of me that always whispers a warning. If I lose him, I lose this. It can all be taken away. They can be taken away.
This dream of a life—a life of safety and belonging and family—can shut the door on me if I give it any reason to.
I can lose the part, the role I never thought could belong to me.
And so, I get dressed quietly in the bathroom, putting on the slightest amount of makeup and a perfume I borrowed from Rachelle. The final touch comes in the form of my fakest smile as Simon brushes past me, hair still disheveled from sleep.
I stop him with a hand to his stomach. “I’m sorry about last night.”
His eyes widen, no less sleepy.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to leave it alone, okay? I just want you. I’m going to apologize to your family, too. Marlie especially.”
The relieved breath that exits his lips seems to shake his whole body. He collapses inward and pulls me into a hug. I breathe in his scent—warm and safe and entirely him. “I just want you to be okay. You know that, right?”
He pulls back as I nod. “I know. And I am. Really.”
I think of the baby in my stomach—a little piece of him, a little piece of me.
I think of adding our child to the beautiful mix of spoiled rotten Morning grandchildren.
Of our little boy or girl running with their cousins in the yard, catching fireflies in the summer and gleefully searching for brightly colored eggs in the huge Morning House backyard at Easter.
Learning to swim while we all watch, while we all cheer.
It’s the family I never had. The childhood I spent my life dreaming of.
And even when my mind flashes to Lia—questioning why she can’t play in a yard, why she doesn’t get to learn to swim, why her safety doesn’t matter—I force it away. I force all thoughts away and focus only on making it through the weekend and making it up to the Mornings.
An hour later, Simon and I join the rest of the family at the breakfast table.
Well…almost all the rest.
Marlie and Warren are noticeably absent, and for a moment I worry, until I remember what Polly said about them traveling to Martha’s Vineyard. That was today.
When we enter the room, Monty is finishing his glass of orange juice across from Jett and Ruby, who are noisily playing with their food.
Pierce looks up from his phone, drawing his glasses down on his nose, and Rachelle lowers her book to study us. The adult siblings are all silent, waiting.
I clasp my hands in front of myself, clearing my throat.
“I just wanted to say how sorry I am for last night. Like Simon probably told you, I wasn’t feeling well, and I think my fever got the best of me.
I’m so completely mortified about what happened.
I would never intentionally put the family at risk, and I’m sorry if I did.
I should’ve listened to you in the first place. ”
Rachelle dog-ears a page, closing the book and placing it on the table.
“Oh, honey. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.
It was handled. We do understand. Truly.
This is our world, and you’re still finding your footing here.
We all know the risks, but we have to remember you’re still learning them. We’re just relieved you’re okay.”
“And feeling better?” Vic asks.
I nod at her. I have no idea if they believe my lie about being sick, but I need them to. I can’t stomach the thought of them thinking I stayed home purely to deceive them. “Much better. I think it was just a little bug.”
Rachelle lifts her coffee mug to her lips as Monty perks up. “A bug?” His eyes are wide. “Like a roach bug or a computer bug?”
Across from him, Jett makes a face. “Ew! A roach bug!” He tears into a fit of laughter. “Remember when one flew into my mom’s hair on vacation, and she screamed the word?—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Vic warns, though she’s already smiling despite herself.
Ruby, no longer in a high chair, but perched in a regular chair next to her brother, slaps both hands on the tabletop. “Daddy squished a bug, ’member, Jett? ’Member? Like this! Squish! Squish!”
Duncan joins in, playing with his daughter as he pretends to squish a bug on her placemat. “Get ’em, girlie.”
Vic groans. “Lovely. Now we’re gonna hear about squishing bugs all day.”
Monty leans forward in his seat, eyeing his baby cousin with solemn authority. “No, Ruby. You don’t squish bugs. You capture them and study them. For science. Mom bought me a kit and everything. I’ll show you upstairs.”
“Oh, naturally you brought your bug kit with us,” Polly teases.
“And if you capture them, you can put them on…” Jett leans toward his sister, whispering in her ear loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Mom’s pillow.”
“Don’t even think about it!” Vic warns, pointing a spoon at both evil grins staring back at her.
Ruby squeals with delight. “I’ll put a bug on Mommy’s pillow!”
Pierce rubs his temple, leaning back in his seat. “Next time someone’s sick, we’re all switching to the word virus.”
The adults chuckle in agreement, but the kids are already sliding out of their chairs, chasing each other around the room with squeals of laughter.
“Bug! Bug! Bug!” Ruby cries as she tries desperately to keep up with the boys. Simon pulls out my chair, letting me sit down before he eases into the chair next to me.
“Guys, it was a sick bug, not a real one, okay? Like a stomach bug,” Preston says, tapping away on his phone.
Jett turns to Monty, his eyes bright. “Wait. A stomach bug?” It seems to be the best news he’s ever heard. “Like, living in her stomach?”
Monty gasps, intrigued. “Is that possible, Mom? Could a bug hatch in your stomach? Like a watermelon seed?”
Rachelle sighs loudly, trying and failing to hide her grin. “Nobody’s stomachs are hatching anything in this house until the wedding is over, do you hear me?”
Ruby lifts her shirt, pointing to her round belly. “Bug in my tummy! Buzz, buzz, buzz!”
The boys chant with her, circling the table in song. “Bugs in our tummies, buzz, buzz, buzz!”
“All right, all of you, to the yard. Take it outside,” Duncan calls over their loud voices.
Jett giggles as they quiet down and head for the door. “Maybe we could name our tummy bugs. I’ll call mine…Jeffrey the Belly Bug.”
“Jeffwy!” Ruby shrieks with delight, clapping. “Buzz, Jeffwy, buzz!”
“No, Ruby, you have to pick your own belly bug name,” Jett says, annoyed as he rushes to jog ahead of his sister.
Vic drops her head on the table, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Next person who says bug gets a time out. Look what you started, Aunt Astrid.”
Warmth swells in me, a final sign that I didn’t lose my place here, that they haven’t voted me off the island.
Ruby stops in her tracks, glancing back over her shoulder with a wicked grin. “Bu…zz, Jeffwy.”
Duncan cackles, and Vic points a finger at him, trying not to laugh herself. “She is your daughter.”
“That she is.” Rachelle takes a large gulp of coffee. “Is it too early for wine?”
“Never too early, Momma,” Duncan says, moving to stand.
Vic grabs his shirt, tugging him down. “Nine in the morning might, in fact, be too early.”
“I wasn’t going to get it,” he teases. “I was refilling my coffee.”
She rolls her eyes as Rachelle leans back in her chair, rubbing her hands over her stomach.
“She’s right, anyway. We have to finish everything up and get ready for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.
Marlie and Warren will be home a few hours before the party starts if all goes well, and I want them to be able to relax. ”
“Well, the theater and dressing rooms are ready, so Pres and I will help Duncan get the rest of the yard set up,” Pierce says.
“And I’ll help Astrid with the guest house.” Simon takes my hand, squeezing it, and from the way Rachelle nods, all too quickly, I’m nearly certain that was planned ahead of time. I don’t argue or defend myself, even if the warmth I felt moments ago is gone.
“Excellent. The movers will be here at three to get everything. And Vic, Polly, and I will get the decorations for the rehearsal dinner all set up before the caterers arrive,” Rachelle says. “But eat up first. Big day.” She takes another sip of her coffee, leaning back and opening her book again.
Later, Simon and I work on the finishing touches of the guest house, finally putting up the decorations he’s been running back and forth to bring down all morning.
As we await the movers, I’m finding it easier and easier to convince myself everything is going to be okay.
That maybe, somehow, it really was just a prank.
Or less likely, a misunderstanding. Either way, I have to move on…
and I can. Marlie is counting on us. I’d never forgive myself if I ruined her big day.
I have to believe what they’ve told me. Someone wants to ruin the wedding, or find out the location, or worse.
Simon’s goal has been to protect me, and it’s been my na?veté that has caused this all to spiral so far.
If only I’d believed them in the beginning, trusted their judgment rather than digging deeper and deeper into this fake mystery, we’d be in a better place.
And I wouldn’t be feeling the shame I do now.
This family is everything to me, and I can’t forget that they’re what matters.