Chapter 25
After ditching a lame idea to stay at the terminal until the next boat arrived, Maddie returned to Orson, started him up, and cranked up the heat.
She checked her phone to see if Rex—or anyone—had texted and she’d missed it.
But no one had. As badly as she wanted to call Taylor or Kevin, she did not want to intrude.
It was bad enough she’d thought it was her place to surprise Taylor’s brother, especially since Maddie had no way of knowing how Taylor really felt about Maddie being pregnant.
Just as she didn’t know if Rex had been in the ambulance and if the front-seat passenger was Annie Sutton—or if Maddie’s hormones, not her intuition, had surged again, determined to wreak havoc.
Maybe Google could help.
Without listening to her common sense again, she hastily entered Annie’s name.
Instantly, the screen lit up. Best-selling mystery author.
Screenwriter. Nominated for an Academy Award last year.
And there were many photos of a pretty woman with black hair and green eyes like her brother Kevin’s.
Which was no help, because Maddie hadn’t seen the passenger on the front seat close enough to judge.
Numbness, disappointment, sorrow: The trio of emotions drifted through the fog and settled in her pores.
She wondered if she should text Rex. Ask if his flight had been delayed.
She could have googled that, too, but she didn’t know what flight he’d actually been on, other than it arrived at three o’clock.
She supposed she could check every flight into Boston today.
Instead, she sighed, and dropped her phone back into her purse.
Sooner or later, she’d hear something. If not from Rex, maybe from Kevin, who might be more inclined to be in touch than his wife.
Determined to relax, Maddie made it up the hill surprisingly smoothly, then she was struck by a bolt of inspiration.
Yanking the steering wheel into Cronig’s parking lot, she made a sharp U-turn.
If she hurried, she might make it to the hospital in time to see the EMTs roll the gurney out of the ambulance.
Because it was off-season, and it wasn’t far, Orson got her there in record time despite the misty air. She deftly steered under the portico for the Emergency Room, where it was empty. Because no ambulance was there.
She stopped, snapped off the ignition, and jumped out of the bright red pickup, not caring if her wool cape wasn’t hiding her swollen belly.
The waiting area inside was empty, too, except for a lone man sitting behind an intake window, his eyes fixed on a computer screen. Maddie approached him.
“Did the Boston ambulance arrive?” She tried to sound as if she knew one had been en route.
He pulled his gaze from the screen. “From the boat?”
She forced a smile. “Yes. It got off the ferry ahead of me.”
He glanced at the screen again, then back to her. “Sorry. No ER check-ins tonight from Boston or anywhere.”
Her half-baked grin morphed into a scowl. “But I saw it drive off the freight deck …”
“Sorry,” he repeated.
Staring at the floor, Maddie knew there was nothing left to do. So she turned and started to leave.
“Wait,” the intake man said. “I can try Windemere for you.”
Maddie said she thought that was a nursing home.
“They also have a wing for short-term recuperation for residents coming back from off-island hospitals and rehab. I was on my break and might have missed it; they turn around fast this time of night. Especially if they’re worried about fog cancelling the last boat.
Hold on …” He tapped something into his keyboard.
Then, speaking into his headset, he asked if a new patient arrived in the past few minutes.
He thanked the person on the line, then looked at Maddie.
“It was here.” He told her how to get to the hospital annex and into Windemere.
Maddie’s sneakers pumped down the hallway; she made it to the door at the same time Kevin and Taylor came in from a different direction.
“Maddie!” Kevin exclaimed as if surprised to see her. “He’s back!” His words were hurried, as if he was a six-year-old at the Vineyard’s renowned Ag Fair.
Taylor kept moving toward the entrance, while her husband stood next to Maddie.
“He texted me last night and said his plane would land at three, but not that he’d be in an ambulance.”
Taylor entered a door; it closed behind her.
Kevin sighed. “Yeah, he still has to do rehab. But he’s here, back in one piece. Almost.” He smiled, then added in a whisper, “Have you told him?”
Maddie said no. “So please don’t.”
“My lips are sealed ’til you say otherwise.”
She nodded thanks. Then she glanced to the door where Taylor had disappeared.
“Why don’t you go in, Kevin,” she said. “Rex must be exhausted from the trip, and you should be there with Taylor. I’ll check on him tomorrow.” She should receive an Oscar for acting so composed.
Kevin frowned. “But …”
Maddie hoisted her purse strap onto her shoulder and started to turn away. “It’s fine. I have lots of time. Especially since now, as you said, he’s back in one piece. And please don’t tell him I was here. Just say I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
With that, she made her way outside to Orson, who, in his snazzy red coat, looked much happier than Maddie felt. She climbed inside and sat, only a gentle hill up from the water, staring at the lampposts, where the misty fog now cloaked itself around the rays of light.
The only thing that might have made the past hours more upsetting would have been if Maddie got back to the cottage and found another note; thankfully, she did not. Instead, she was greeted by tantalizing aromas of Grandma’s fresh-baked rosemary bread and chowder.
“Where’ve you been all day?” Grandma asked, while Maddie was hanging up her cape.
She told her Rex was back. “I tried to see him, but can’t until tomorrow.”
Grandma scurried closer as if they were in a castle and Maddie wouldn’t hear her.
“Will you tell him about the baby when you see him?”
“Not unless it’s the right time. First, I want to see how he is.” She wove around Grandma and went to the stove, where she started scooping chowder into a bowl.
Grandma scurried again. “Well, you’d better hurry up, or he won’t know until he meets you in the department of labor.” The “department of labor” was Grandma’s favorite term for the maternity section of the hospital.
Because she’d barely eaten that day, Maddie devoured her supper, for which the baby seemed pleased. Grandma suggested that she had a fisherman growing inside her.
Stephen would have laughed if he had been there. Maddie sighed, already missing her dad.
After they were done with supper, she wanted to be alone. “Time for me to go into my room and read another book my father ordered. I’m taking notes so I might be halfway helpful to our customers.”
Grandma looked at her. “Don’t forget to read kids’ books, too.”
“I won’t. Thanks.”
Thirty minutes later, she was curled up in bed, reading a little-known but gripping mystery. She became so entrenched in the story that when her phone rang, she nearly shot up off the bed, as if the villain from the novel had snuck into the cottage.
Then realizing the call might be from Rex, she grabbed the phone.
“Hi, Mom,” said the happiest voice that Maddie knew. “Whatcha doing?”
And Maddie knew the time had come to tell her son about the “baby-and-Rex” news.
“Holy crap!” Rafe yowled.
Maddie laughed. “That’s one way of putting it. Though you might want to change your college lexicon when he or she is here. At least until the teenage years.”
“Sure, Mom. But wow. This is amazing.”
Maddie agreed. “I hope Rex feels the same when I finally get to tell him.” Then she filled Rafe in on Rex having been granted his “walking papers” and being back on the island though apparently he wasn’t walking much, if at all.
“So he doesn’t know yet?”
“Not yet. I hope to tell him tomorrow.”
“Wow,” her son said again.
Maddie laughed. “But enough about me. What about you? Has spring training started yet?”
“Tomorrow. It’ll be fun. But the truth is, I’d rather be there helping Joe. And you, too, especially now.”
“I’m fine, honey. I saw the doctor today, and she agreed. So please don’t worry. What’s important is that you enjoy these last weeks at Amherst. Not to mention that your team depends on you.”
“We depend on every one of us. Speaking of which, I only had a chance to make four baskets for the bookshop. Sorry. I’ll do better once I’m there.”
“Don’t worry about that, either. Grandma’s working up a storm.”
“Will she be able to come with you to graduation? Will Rex come, too?”
At least he hadn’t asked if she wanted to marry Rex. Some things about his generation were far more sensible than those that came before.
“I don’t know, honey. We’ll have to see how things pan out.” She made sure she was smiling when she said it because she’d always believed facial expressions could be interpreted over the phone. Then she had a grim thought.
“Your dad and his family will be there?”
“Are you kidding? Because he’s a ‘successful’—his word—alum, he’s pissed he wasn’t asked to be commencement speaker.”
Yes. That sounded like Owen. Then Maddie realized that commencement would be toward the end of May. A lump swelled in her throat.
“Is graduation Memorial Day weekend?” she asked, wondering how the date had escaped her.
“Yup. It’s that Sunday.”
The weekend the bookshop was scheduled to open.
The grand opening date not only for new businesses, but for the entire island to kick off summer.
Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? Because you’ve been a mess, she thought.
Even worse, she’d be heavily pregnant by then, and Owen was far more critical of unmarried mothers than Rafe’s generation, or even theirs.
“And … when’s the baby due?” her son teased.
“July twelfth.” It was the first time she’d shared the date that Dr. Mason had “assigned.”
With a hearty laugh, Rafe said, “Well, it’ll add to the interest of the festivities, won’t it?”
She gritted her teeth and hoped her theory about facial expressions was incorrect. “Don’t be ridiculous, honey. We’re adults. Well, not counting the twins. We’ll all be there for you. No one or nothing else. Got it?”
“Yes, but Dad …”
Maddie refrained from saying, “Your dad’s a jerk, Rafe.” Instead, she lied and said, “Your dad will be fine, too. In fact, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled that I finally have another life.”
“You’re too generous, Mom.”
For a moment, Maddie suspected that Owen had said derogatory things to Rafe about her already. She’d never asked, and didn’t care to know. Her son was smart enough to know the difference between reality and Owen being Owen.
Then Rafe said he had to get some sleep so he’d be prime for training in the morning.
After they hung up, Maddie tried to get back into reading, but she couldn’t concentrate.
All she could think about was Memorial Day weekend, when she’d be almost seven-and-a-half months pregnant and very noticeable.
She’d also have to figure out how the bookshop could open when the owner was off-island.
Changing the opening date probably wasn’t an option—ads were already placed and paid for.
The only answer would be if she could find someone she trusted who could fill in.
Francine was the most likely, but she’d be busy with the Inn. Still, maybe she’d have a suggestion.
Pulling the comforter around her, Maddie turned off the lamp and prayed that sleep would come quickly and peacefully. But it did not.
At some point in the night, she heard a soft ding from the nightstand. A text alert. She didn’t move, wondering if it had been her imagination. Or her note-writer, hoping that texting would have a stronger impact. After a few seconds, it dinged again.
She reached over and retrieved the phone. The red dot indicated that indeed there was a text, so that part was real.
Squinting, to avoid turning on the lamp again, she read: I MADE IT TO THE ISLAND. AT WINDEMERE REHAB. COME VISIT. It was signed with a smiling emoji.
She might have stopped breathing for a moment.
Then she did what a woman in love most likely would have done. She bounded out of bed as quickly as her baby-heavy body was able to bound.
Racing into the bathroom, she washed up, brushed her teeth, and flung on a little makeup: She looked tired, but happy; exhausted, but elated. Then she threw on the outfit she’d worn the day before because it was one less thing to have to think about.
Twelve minutes after the text arrived, she dashed off a message for Grandma, flew out the back door, and raced up the hill where she’d parked Orson.
Jumping into the pickup, she flicked on the ignition and barreled toward Menemsha Road, grinding the gears a couple of times but not caring, heading toward South Road that would take her to State and then to Martha’s Vineyard Hospital where her baby’s father had asked her to visit.
She hadn’t noticed that it was only three o’clock in the morning.