East Hope (19 page)

After dinner Vivien insisted on doing the dishes, and it was almost eleven when the kitchen was finally cleaned up. Caroline made a pot of herbal tea and sent Vivien to bed with a cup, along with a few of the choice cookbooks from Lila's shelves. “I'll be up in a minute,” she said. “I'm all right. I promise.” Caroline walked from room to room, lowering the windows and turning out the lights. She stopped in the hall. Lila's clock ticked along with its steady, reassuring sound. She took the key from the drawer in the hall table and carefully opened the face. The key slipped in easily. She turned it six small turns, according to Hollis Moody's instructions.

Once the clock was wound she opened the front door and stood briefly on the wide granite step. The front of the house faced the bay and the far-off ocean. The air was cool and the clean salt breeze soothed her skin. On her left a light on the other side of the bay shone brightly; maybe it came from Taunton's Used Books. Caroline wondered about the bookseller, Will Harmon. She'd been pleased to see him again yesterday when she'd emerged from the fog on Hawthorne Beach. He seemed like the kind of person who might step out on a night like this to savor the air and look at the stars.

Caroline shivered and drew her arms across her chest. When she was a little girl she used to go out into the backyard in Connecticut with her dad to watch the summer night sky. They would lie on the lawn, the grass cooling beneath her thin cotton nightgown while she listened to his descriptions of the constellations, her dad's voice a gentle rumble that often lulled her to sleep. Those childhood summers felt like a million years ago.

That night Caroline had a difficult time falling asleep. She couldn't find a comfortable position and turned repeatedly from side to side. Vivien's presence and her knowledge of the pregnancy made it all the more real, and the magnitude of what lay ahead felt crushing. Eventually Caroline slept. During the night she awoke suddenly from a terrible dream, one so vivid, it was hard to believe it wasn't true.

As in most nightmares, it was difficult to see what was going on. She was trying to get to a baby. She kept reaching and reaching, trying to find the child. Now and then a faint pink softness, the gaze of a little face, pale hair, the curve of a cheek appeared only to disappear and remain out of sight. The need to get to this child drove her forward. There was no crying. The dream was eerily silent. As she lay in bed now fully awake, her arms were sore, as if she had actually been reaching in her sleep.

Grace had been born with multiple holes in her heart, though she weighed eight pounds and appeared to be quite perfect. Caroline would never forget the day following her birth. In the night the nurse had brought her the tightly swaddled bundle. Caroline had tried to nurse her daughter. The small pink mouth had grazed her hardened nipples, but Grace seemed to want to sleep. The nurse had reassured Caroline and said they would try again in a few hours. The next thing she remembered, Harry was looking down at her with tears on his face. Something was wrong. The baby had stopped breathing just before dawn.

“I want to have this child, Vivien,” Caroline said later the next morning. She stared out at the water. The weather couldn't have been more perfect. The air was fresh and summer sweet, and the water and sky were both the purest blue. She and Vivien had carried their mugs of coffee to the Adirondack chairs on the lawn. It was the Fourth of July, and Vern would not be coming to work on the house. They had the day to themselves. Vivien was leaving on Sunday and she had gotten up early and already booked a seat for Caroline on the same flight. Tired from her bad night, Caroline hadn't yet mustered up the energy to stop her.

“I know a termination is hard.”

Caroline said nothing. She felt calm now, resolute. The sky was clear, cloudless. A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves of the lilac bushes by the garage.

“Having this baby would be a terrible mistake,” Vivien continued. “There's the cost, your health—the baby's too.”

Caroline put her mug on the arm of the chair and covered her ears with her hands. “I know, I know.”

“Caroline, you agreed. You yourself said you can't go through with the pregnancy.”

“Harry wanted more children. When it seemed I couldn't get pregnant years ago, he wanted to adopt. He was an only child. He wanted a larger family.”

“That was years ago. What does that have to do with your life now?”

“It was selfish of me. I was afraid of another depression, that a baby would remind me of Grace. I made a mistake. I see that now. Living here has been like starting over.” Caroline looked over at Vivien, who was shaking her head. “I know that sounds hokey. I just want this child. I think I need to have this child.”

“What about Pete? Have you thought about him?” Vivien put her mug down and waved one hand in the air. “Have you lost your mind? You plan to show up in Chevy Chase and waltz into the garden club, pregnant with Pete's child? And Marjorie? What about her?”

“I'll tell Pete,” she said quietly, “though I don't want anything from him.”

“Right.” Vivien slapped her hands down on the arms of her chair. “Do you know what you're saying? This is so unlike you. Your lovely life is going to be chaos. Think of your family and how they would feel. And your friends—what they would say. Can you handle that?”

“You're my only real friend.”

“You know what I mean.”

Caroline drew her knees up and rested her feet at the edge of the chair. What Vivien said was true. She hated controversy. But it was too late. She wasn't sure how she had come to this choice, but as she'd said it, it seemed suddenly right. After days of confusion, it was as if her decision to have this baby was something she'd known all along.

Vivien softened her tone. “It's not only that. I want you to be able to move forward. Harry's death was dreadful, and then to have your money worries too . . . Please listen to me, Caroline.”

Caroline looked at her knees.

“This baby is not Grace. You can't replace Grace.” Vivien reached over and took Caroline's arm.

“It's not that,” Caroline said sharply.

“Don't make me be the heavy.”

“I know you're trying to help.” She looked at her friend. “What you say is totally reasonable. But having this baby is something I want to do for me. It's not because I want to replace Grace.”

But wasn't it? Caroline stared out at the water. The shimmering brilliance almost hurt her eyes.

“Come on,” Vivien said. “You know you can't afford to raise a baby on your own. And what will Rob say? Have you thought about that? It's not fair to him to bring a baby into the world.”

“You make him sound selfish.”

“Caroline, he's nineteen. And the fact that you were with another man—his father's best friend, even—are you going to tell him that?”

“I'll explain it to him.” Caroline remembered the last time Rob called from Colorado, so exuberant, his life back on track. Soon he'd be coming home to Washington with a girlfriend. Telling him would not be easy. She pressed her lips together.

“Or maybe that's it? Rob's growing up. You're going to be alone. That's understandable, but this is not the way to solve that problem.”

“I'm not afraid of being alone.” Caroline heard the defiance in her own voice.

“You're not thinking clearly.” Vivien's eyebrows had drawn together, deepening the crease between her eyes. “Let's not talk about it anymore today,” she said, and got to her feet. “Finish your coffee. I'm going inside to make the picnic lunch I promised, and after that you're going to drive us to Perkins Beach.” She raised her arms. “No. Don't get up. You're on vacation today. Soon we'll be in Washington. I guarantee you'll feel differently when you get home.”

Vivien marched back to the house and Caroline decided not to argue. Though Vivien could be hardheaded, she only had Caroline's best interests at heart. She would never forget how this kind and determined woman had taken her under her wing when they met years before at the Cuisine Academy. Vivien had said that Caroline had a gift for bringing all the wonders of cooking into words. Vivien had offered Caroline encouragement. Thanks to Vivien, she had discovered work that she loved.

No, Vivien was right. Why discuss it further? The day was lovely and she didn't want to spoil it. She watched a lobster boat cut through the light chop of the bay. Today the islands looked like clusters of mushroom caps. The breeze was picking up, and gulls swooped and dove across the sky.

The perfect weather held on the morning of their departure. Vivien carried her suitcase to the car and waited for Caroline, who fumbled with her keys as she locked the back door. She locked the house only when going off the peninsula. No one locked their doors in East Hope, except perhaps at night.

“Where's your bag?” Vivien said.

“I'm not going to Washington,” she said resolutely, and opened the door of her car.

“What?”

“Please get in.”

“Caroline, you've got to come home.”

Caroline almost said,
I am home, Vivien. I'm staying here and this is home.
Instead she said, “Please, Vivien. If we're going to make your flight we need to leave now.”

“You said you'd come back to Washington. You agreed.” Vivien paused, looked up to the sky, and took a breath as if to calm herself. “You'll be okay about it when you get home, when you return to your normal life.”

“I'm having this baby,” Caroline said. “I'm going to be a mother again. I'm not changing my mind.”

“After everything I've said?”

“Please get in. We're going to be late.”

“You've got to listen to me,” Vivien insisted, remaining outside the car.

“But I have,” Caroline said. “It's you that hasn't listened to me.” Before she could stop herself the cruel words flew out: “How would you know what it's like, anyway? You've never had a baby. How would you know what it's like to have one die?”

Vivien looked as if she had been struck, her face blank with shock, but not yet registering the pain. A moment later a sheet of invisible armor dropped down around her. She showed no emotion. She got into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. “Fine. Drive to the airport.”

The ride to Bangor was awful. “Please,” Caroline begged, “I didn't mean that. I've been so wrought up from everything. It was wrong of me to say that. You're the most understanding person I know.”

Vivien kept her face angled to the window and acted deaf to Caroline's pleading. At the airport she got out of the car, took her suitcase, and, without a word, walked to the entrance without looking back.