Chapter 21
March–April
The days and weeks passed quickly. Maddie made decisions about the bookshop, traveled around the island in the tiny rental car that was uncomfortable and costly but got her wherever she needed to go, as she shopped for furnishings for both inside the shop and out on the deck.
She zoomed with Rafe, finessing the logo design for the Little Bookshop by the Harbor—as Maddie decided to call it; they determined the dimensions for a sign, which an Amherst friend of Rafe’s offered to paint at no cost, if they let him include an image of it in his portfolio.
As for interacting with her father, Maddie kept it respectful, always aware that he was helping to launch her business. Also, she was fairly sure that whatever his missteps were, he’d done them with good intentions. Still, she needed time to rebuild her trust.
When she wasn’t thinking about the bookshop, she browsed online for baby things. She’d tried not to spend time dwelling on Rex. She’d only spoken with him two more times; the conversations had been brief, each somewhat more coherent than the previous one. Unless that was her hopeful imagination.
Mostly, she kept focused on the tasks that needed doing, while half wondering if, between her father and Rex, someday she’d receive a gold medal for patience.
Suddenly, it was the middle of March. A little over two months until the grand opening. And four months until the baby would arrive.
Grandma came home from Joe’s early one evening with a pot of his homemade fish chowder and a loaf of fresh-baked, 7-grain bread for their dinner.
“He’s trying to make up for Rex not being here,” Grandma said. “And though you kindly haven’t asked, my basket count for the bookshop is up to eight—five large and three medium. Rafe’s working on the small ones. Ten years ago, I’d have made twenty-eight in the same time.”
“I’m sure what you’ve done is wonderful, Grandma. Don’t forget that Rafe’s contributions are only possible because of you. As an added bonus, Kevin found a perfect spot in the shop where the baskets will have center stage.”
Grandma smiled an atypical, shy smile.
Then Stephen sauntered out from his office/bedroom, and announced that something smelled good and that he was hungry.
Thanks to Joe, the meal was tasty, but the atmosphere around the table was again subdued.
Maddie picked at her food; her stomach was tentative.
They had ice cream for dessert, then her father retreated to his room again, and Grandma wanted to watch more episodes of Father Brown, now that Maddie had set up streaming services.
For three hours, she and Grandma sat mostly in silence, sharing bits of thoughts as to whodunit.
Maddie couldn’t wait to go to bed. Thankfully, Grand ma finally said good night.
By the time Maddie cleaned the kitchen, turned off the lights, and got ready for bed, she was tired. But she couldn’t sleep.
She needed to talk with someone.
After a while, she pulled herself up and leaned against the headboard.
She glanced at the clock; it was after midnight.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her growing bump that she’d been artfully disguising in big winter clothes.
Soon, however, it would be spring, and her condition would be obvious to everyone on the planet.
It was ludicrous that the only people who still knew the situation were Kevin and Taylor.
Then she remembered that the Tri-Town Ambulance crew knew, the doctor, and a few ER healthcare workers—none of whom she could call to have a chat.
She needed to tell someone she felt close to.
But she couldn’t share it with Rafe over the phone.
And Grandma Nancy would be sound asleep by now.
She even considered calling Evelyn or Francine, but it was ridiculously late.
Nor was it the time—night or day—to tell her father since their conversations remained strained.
The only one she could call was Rex. Maybe he was well enough now to hear the news. Maybe it would provide him with added motivation to step up PT, OT, and whatever other kind of rehab he was getting. Maybe it would give him the perfect reason to get well and come home.
Sooner or later—sooner would be better—she’d have to take the chance.
She glanced at the clock again: twelve fifteen.
Which meant it was only nine fifteen in Los Angeles—and maybe he’d still be awake.
Before changing her mind, she got out of bed, put on her robe, and picked up her phone.
Then she sat on the floor, huddled against the bed on the side where anyone with a yen to eavesdrop would not succeed.
There had been enough eavesdropping lately.
Without second-guessing, she scrolled to Rex’s number and hit send.
It rang once, twice, three times.
Her heart thumped faster as his phone kept ringing.
But just as she was ready to hang up, someone clicked on.
“Hello?”
It wasn’t Rex.
It was a woman.
“Beth?” Maddie asked, pleased that she’d remembered the nurse’s name.
“I think you have the wrong number. Who do you want?”
“Um … Rex?” She had no idea why she’d said his name as if it was a question. What she really wanted was to end the call.
“I’m sorry,” came the reply, “but Rex is sleeping. Do you want to leave a message?” It must be one of his caregivers, clearly determined to protect her charge.
Oh, sure, Maddie thought. Say Maddie called to tell him that she’s pregnant with his baby. That wasn’t going to happen.
“Please tell him I’m thinking of him and wondering how he’s doing.”
“He’s sleeping,” the woman repeated. “But I’ll pass on the message.” After a quick pause, the woman said, “Wait. Is this Maddie?”
For half a second, Maddie was thrilled to think he’d told everyone in Southern California about her. About them.
“I didn’t look when I grabbed his phone, but I now see ‘Maddie’ on caller ID,” the woman added, and Maddie closed her eyes.
“Yes, I’m Maddie,” she replied. “And you are …?”
“It’s Annie, Maddie. Annie Sutton, Rex’s friend.”
For all Maddie knew, she might have thrown up then or said something really stupid. Later she was only sure that she did not mention the baby. The rest was a stupid, jealous blur.
Somehow, Maddie slept straight through until eight the next morning, yet she woke up exhausted. Physically, emotionally, the whole ball of wax. On top of that, she was cold.
Hauling herself from bed, she headed for the steady warmth of the rainfall shower, where she scrubbed herself from head to toe, washed her hair, shaved her legs. She was determined to have a great day. Then the shower ran out of hot water.
After bundling up in a thick sweater and knit pants that stretched over her belly, she donned wool socks and slid her feet into fuzzy slippers.
First, she’d make a mug of steaming tea. Goldenrod, caffeine-free tea. Foraged up-island, cleaned and dried—all by Grandma Nancy. Then Maddie would walk down to the bookshop where Kevin might be, and together they could choose which paint colors should go where, and she’d be done with that.
But half trotting down the hallway, eager to get going, her grand plan quickly changed. Grandma was sitting at the table, a mug of tea in one hand, a pencil in the other, her shoulders bowed over a sudoku magazine that Rafe had given her for Christmas.
“About time you got up,” the old woman said without lifting her eyes.
Maddie was taken aback. Joe typically picked Grandma up not long after dawn and took her to his place, where she spent the day crafting baskets—all eight of them in two-and-a-half months.
“Well, good morning,” Maddie said. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” was the reply.
“You’re not going to Joe’s? Is he okay, too?”
Grandma set down the pencil and raised her eyes to Maddie. “Everyone’s fine. Even your father. I sent him down-island to do errands so you and I could have a conversation.”
“He’s okay, too? My dad?”
“Like I said, everyone’s fine. The only thing that’s wrong is the tension in this house. I told your father it’s high time the two of you made things right between you, and now I’ve said the same to you. I did, however, also tell him that your bad mood is probably due to your condition.”
Maddie was standing half in the living/dining/kitchen space, the other half still in the hallway. Under the circumstances, her thoughts might have been racing, but they couldn’t race or do much of anything because, like the water in the shower, they’d turned cold.
“Make your tea, then sit,” Grandma added. “We need to talk. Because it’s high time you admitted that you’re pregnant.”
Grandma tapped her fingers on the tabletop, while Maddie felt the blood drain from her face, if blood really did that sort of thing. She took four steps toward Grandma, then sat across from her, knowing she could not deny the allegation.
“Are you happy?” Grandma asked. “It’s Rex’s baby, isn’t it?”
Maddie’s shoulders relaxed. Then she laughed, but held her gaze on the table and not her grandmother. “Yes, Grandma, it’s Rex’s. Believe me, it couldn’t be anyone else’s.”
Grandma didn’t interrupt.
“Am I happy?” Maddie continued. “It’s complicated.
I do know I’m embarrassed. But yes, I’m happy about the baby.
” She raised her eyes to meet her grandmother’s.
It felt good to see the old woman’s dark eyes start to twinkle.
“But I’m worried about Rex. He doesn’t know yet …
he has so much to deal with now. I tried calling him last night to finally tell him, but he was asleep.
As far as I know, the only one who’s figured it out has been Taylor, who told Kevin. And now you know.”
After a quick “Ahem,” Grandma said, “And your father knows.”
Maddie’s jaw squared. Her spine stiffened. “What?”
Grandma sighed. “I explained what I meant by your ‘condition.’ He deserved to know, too, don’t you think?”
Dropping her gaze back to the table, Maddie felt as humiliated as when she’d been thirteen, and her father caught her on the back porch kissing Tommy Jenkins.
“So now my dad’s ashamed of me.”
“Not at all. Though he does want to talk with you about your plans.”
Maddie wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Rex should have known before everyone else, Grandma. I was hoping the news might help him find extra strength to get well faster. But I don’t suppose that’s how it works.
” She struggled to hold back tears. “Plus, he could get better but want to stay in California. We haven’t known each other very long—or very well.
He’s older than I am and”—she paused, wiping tears that leaked out again without permission—“what if he gets better but doesn’t want a baby?
Should I go through with it? I’m forty-five, Grandma. Being pregnant alone is a risk …”
Grandma let her ramble.
“And what will Rafe think?” Maddie added. “I don’t want to lose my son’s love. Or his respect.”
Then Grandma held up both palms. “Stop. That’s a lot of whats and what-ifs.
Maybe you should listen to the advice of an ancestor.
My grandmother, your great-great-grandmother, Spotted Fawn, said when our minds are troubled, our Creator will guide us.
I believe that. I also believe maybe it was our Creator who decided it was time for you and Rex to have a family of your own.
Because these things aren’t usually a coincidence. ”
“But …”
Grandma held an arthritic finger to her lips.
“Hush.” Then she smiled a rare smile. “A more important question now is do you want tea or don’t you?
Before your father went down-island, he made a quick trip to Orange Peel; there are fresh croissants with mozzarella, spinach, and roasted tomatoes on the counter. ”
Not wanting to ask if Stephen had gone to the bakery before or after Grandma told him the news, Maddie hesitated, until hunger overtook her emotions.
She stood up, went into the kitchen, and put the kettle on.
Then she took a plate and reached for the bakery bag …
to which a large Post-it was attached. Her father’s distinctive cursive read:
I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I called Dan and retracted what I’d said. Also, I’m elated about the baby. Rex is a good guy. He signed the note with his longstanding—D.
Maddie set down the plate and more tears started to well.
As if on cue, the back door opened, and her father stepped inside.
He looked at her. He waited.
“I read your note,” she said.
He handed her a bag from Rainy Day, a gift shop in Vineyard Haven, and gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry, Maddie. Forgive me?” He sounded like he meant it.
“Oh, Dad, of course I forgive you. We’ve all been a little stressed.”
“A little stressed?” Grandma called out.
“Why do either of you think I spend all day, every day at Joe’s?
These crippled up hands of mine couldn’t make baskets every day if my life depended on it.
But the hubbub around here has been too much for this old girl.
And the secrecy! I’ve known about the baby for the past two months at least! Good grief, look at the girl!”
All eyes floated down to the five months’ of evidence; Maddie and her father laughed.
Then she reached into the bag from Rainy Day and pulled out a soft, stuffed bunny in pastel sea-glass green—a shade similar to one she’d chosen for the bookshop.
“The woman in the store said it’s a perfect color for a baby who isn’t here yet. And look”—he pointed to the eyes and mouth—“these are hand-embroidered so nothing will fall off.”
Maddie pressed the bunny to her chest and whispered, “Thanks, Dad. It’s wonderful.”
He hugged her again.
After several seconds, Grandma interrupted. “Enough blubbering. I waited ’til we got all this out of the way before I had my breakfast. Now somebody please hand me a croissant before I starve to death.” She chuckled, though from her, it came out more like a cackle.
Stephen chuckled, too. “Go sit,” he told Maddie. “I’ll get everything. Coffee?”
“Goldenrod tea this morning, thanks, Dad. No caffeine for me.” She patted her belly, hoping Grandma was right, that their Creator had been guiding Maddie all along—no matter what Rex decided to do. If she ever got the chance to tell him what was going on.