“I get it.” Audrey paused for a moment. “And it’s sweet he thought of you.”
“He works for my mom. He has to think of me,” Amanda said.
Audrey wanted to ask just when Amanda would stop pretending she wasn’t into Sam. But before she could, Amanda stood, placed the rest of her donut into the little brown bag it had come in, and said she had to get over to the law office. “You’ll be okay here by yourself for a while? I can come back in a few hours.”
“It’s not a problem,” Audrey replied. In fact, she’d grown pretty tired of everyone doting on her all the time. She wanted space to think her own thoughts. She wanted time to dream up Max’s future. Somehow, building a world of positivity around this little baby made her feel she had more power over the situation. It was prayer, maybe, or some kind of fate that was already written, perhaps. She would accept whatever worked.
When Amanda left, Audrey, she too, slipped her donut into the brown bag, crossed her arms over her chest, and stretched her legs out in front of her. She sat like a teenager in a high school classroom who waited for the bell to ring. It hadn’t been so long ago that she had been exactly that, all the way back home in Boston. When had she stopped really feeling that Boston was her home? She’d grown up there. Everything in her life had been there. Now, she felt her entire life was firmly rooted in the Vineyard. How strange.
Around eleven-thirty, Amanda texted to say she’d gotten held up in a meeting, but she would be back at the hospital in about an hour. Audrey had hardly noticed the passing of time. She had eaten the rest of her donut hours ago, but her stomach still grumbled ominously, and she stepped toward the vending machine to inspect the selection. She wrapped herself tightly in her coat as she analyzed the various cookies and candies and pretzels. It was a funny thing; in the reflection of the vending machine glass, she just looked like a normal, nineteen-year-old girl. Beneath the coat, she didn’t look pregnant at all.
She had longed to look “not pregnant” for months. Now, she had her wish.
Audrey leafed through her purse for change, which was mostly concealed in crumbs at the bottom. As she searched, a guy in his early twenties, maybe, stepped toward the vending machine and clucked his tongue. Audrey’s eyes flipped up toward his face, which had this classic Roman nose, these beautiful, dark eyes, and a rugged, five-o-clock shadow, which made him look even more handsome.
“What should my lunch be?” he said to nobody in particular. “Pretzels or peanuts or just straight for the sweet stuff?”
Audrey shrugged, lifted three quarters, and plunked them in, one after another. With a funny smile, she pressed F17 and watched as a bag of Reese’s Pieces began to crank out from its prison.
“Straight to the sweets for you, then?” the guy asked.
“I don’t like to mess around.”
“I appreciate that in a person. You should always get what you want.”
“I agree.”
But that moment, just as the package of candies was meant to drop below, the little, jagged edge of the machine caught it and held onto it like its life depended on it. Audrey’s smile fell immediately.
“No!”
“What a scam,” the guy said.
“Seriously. First, medical bills, and now, this?” Audrey huffed at the glass.
The guy laughed appreciatively. “Come on. You aren’t going to let this take advantage of you, are you?”
Audrey furrowed her brow. “As a rule, I never let anyone take advantage of me.”
“That’s what I thought,” the guy said, although he was a perfect stranger.
“Let’s shake it,” Audrey suggested. “We either break it, or we free my candy. I’m good either way.”
They stepped on either side of the machine, gripped the edges, and then counted to three. The first few tips forward were fine, but the fourth made Audrey wheeze with pain. She wasn’t completely healed from the delivery yet. It had been silly to think she was back to her normal self.
“You okay?” the guy asked as he cranked the machine forward on his own.
This last tip did the trick. The bright orange package dropped to the belly of the beast. Audrey nodded and grinned. “I just wanted to see if you could do it by yourself.”
“Ah. A test. I love tests,” he teased, giving her a lopsided grin.
Audrey had to sit. She grabbed her candy and retreated toward the nearest chair, where she watched the guy pick out a package of Oreos. When he turned back, his eyes connected with hers and he asked, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
“Not at all,” Audrey said.
Without speaking, they both tore open their packages. Audrey let her first Reese’s Pieces droplet melt against her tongue. The peanut butter was almost too sweet.
“Man, what a wild night,” the guy finally said.
“Yeah?” Obviously, there was a reason he sat outside the NICU. There weren’t good reasons to sit outside of the NICU.
“Yeah. My mom had a baby last night. She’s forty-three, so it was already kind of a scary thing. And then the baby had some trouble breathing, and they rushed her here, and, well. Now, my mom is resting, and I didn’t want my baby sister to be alone, you know?”
He bit on the edge of his Oreo. For the first time, Audrey recognized the red-tinge of his eyes. He was exhausted.
“That sounds really hard,” Audrey whispered.
“Yeah. It’s so weird,” he admitted. He then glanced toward her, furrowed his brow, and asked, “You must have a brother or sister in there, too?”
Audrey nodded. Why did she nod? Why did she agree? It just seemed easier, somehow, to put the pain on some other, fictional person. “I don’t want him to be alone, either.”
“It’s weird since they don’t really know what being alone even means,” the guy said. “They’ve just been attached to their mother the entire time. And now, they’re alone in that room.”
“Yup. They’re in that room,” Audrey repeated.
Silence fell over the two of them, then. Audrey’s heart thudded with sadness and fear. After a while, the guy admitted he had to go check on his mother. Audrey said her cousin was about to return, anyway. They nodded their goodbyes, grateful to have someone to share this pain with. And then, in a moment, the stranger was gone.
Chapter Twelve
Max Sheridan was one week old. It was as though the weather had planned ahead for such an achievement, as it brought bright blue, clear skies, sharp sunlight, and the first few buds on a tree that had gotten ahead of itself, just outside the Sunrise Cove. Christine stood in the splendor of the sun with her chin lifted. She had baked croissants, and she held the bag with one hand and a mug of coffee in her other. She hadn’t heard from Zach in days, and the thought of it made her stomach heave with sadness. But the springtime weather— that was at least something to cling to.
Christine stepped into the foyer to say hello to Susan and Sam, who were in the midst of a discussion about a particularly unruly guest at the Sunrise Cove.
“They played techno music until one in the morning,” Sam explained as he rolled his eyes. “I told them over and over again that this is a family inn. Not a party place. And I mean, who comes to Martha’s Vineyard in March to party like that?”
“You should have been here when Ursula had her wedding on the island,” Christine told him with a smirk. “So many people were arrested for being rowdy. Susan, you should have had your law office up and running back then. You’d have gotten a lot of clients.”
“I had thought about that,” Susan said with a laugh. “But we were all so exhausted from that crazy wedding. I don’t think I could have managed to do anything but sleep.”
There was also the fact that Susan had only just recovered from cancer around then. Exhaustion had made it difficult for her to do much of anything. More and more, as spring brightened around them and time passed, Susan Sheridan looked like herself — that force of nature, that beautiful queen.
“Are you headed to the hospital?�
� Susan asked.
“Yes. Audrey and Lola and I are meeting with the doctor.”
“Let me know when you know more,” Susan said. “I’ll be at the law office later. Don’t hesitate to call.”
“We won’t.”
Christine walked over to the hospital, where she found Lola and Audrey stationed outside of the doctor’s office. Audrey was all wrapped up in a coat, shivering, with her eyes toward the door. Lola seemed anxious, telling a story that neither of them seemed to care about, about a story she had to write for the Boston Tribune. Lola had told Christine that it was the worst thing in the world to take stories just then but that she just needed to put her mind elsewhere, beyond the baby and her worries about Audrey. “I have to write. It’s the only thing I have,” she’d said.
Christine tried to give her croissants to the girls, but both admitted they were too nervous to eat. Christine was, too. She had only baked them due to the quivering anxiety of her own heart. Minutes later, the doctor called them in, and she held the package of croissants on her lap, feeling foolish.
“Good morning,” the doctor said. “I trust this has been a very difficult few days for all of you. But I want you to know that everything has gone exactly to plan.”
Audrey inhaled sharply. “What do you mean?”
“The baby’s oxygen levels are improving,” the doctor continued. “If all continues like this, we should be able to release him in about a week.”
Audrey’s shoulders fell forward. A strange cry fell from her lips. Lola spread her hand across her shoulder and whispered, “It’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.”
“And what about long-term effects?” Christine asked. She’d read a little bit about this on the internet, although the idea terrified her.
“Often, the baby can make a full recovery, so much so that there aren’t any signs of this later in life,” the doctor continued. “But again, these are still early days. We will continue to monitor him closely.”
Even still, there was an air of relief when the three Sheridan women stepped out of the doctor’s office. Audrey’s knees clacked together, and she admitted that she might collapse on the ground if she didn’t get something to eat. Christine passed over a croissant, which Audrey shoved into her mouth as she burst into tears.
“I really need to sleep,” she said finally as she swallowed the last morsel. “I couldn’t sleep at all last night because I was so worried about this meeting.”
“Why don’t you go home?” Lola suggested, rubbing the small of Audrey’s back. “Tommy can drive you over. Christine, you want to head back, too?”
They stepped into the parking lot to find Tommy idling in his truck. He stepped out and hugged each of them, then helped Audrey get comfortable in the back seat. It was a tight fit, but Audrey was a tiny thing, and she managed it.
“You’re dressed in your sailing garb, aren’t you?” Christine asked Tommy.
Tommy nodded. “Guilty. I haven’t been out on the water in a few weeks, and I’m craving it. I even convinced Lola to come along with me.”
Lola’s eyes brightened. “Christine! You should come with us.”
Audrey grumbled from the back. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t even want to go.”
“Next time, baby. When you heal up a little bit more,” Lola said tenderly.
Christine turned her eyes out toward the bright Vineyard Sound. She hadn’t been off the island, on a boat, in what seemed like forever. The idea of it felt like freedom. Before she knew it, she nodded and said, “Okay. All right. I’ll go.”
“Really?” Both Lola and Tommy’s eyes bugged out of their heads the slightest bit.
Lola gripped Christine’s elbow and said, “You’re going to love it. I’ve wanted to take you along for ages. I thought you hated the idea.”
Back at the Sheridan house, Lola and Christine got Audrey settled in her bedroom upstairs. Christine noted that the kitchen was crystal-clean, to which Lola said, “Amanda is a master at that. I want to hire her for mine and Tommy’s place.”
“It’s not that bad,” Tommy stated.
“We can’t help it. We’re free spirits,” Lola teased as she kissed Tommy on the cheek.
The sight made Christine’s stomach cramp. For months, she’d had love. Now, she was back to her traditional, Christine ways: alone in the world. No love for her. No romance. That was the stuff other people were allowed to have.
Just as she had the previous week or so, Christine felt pretty helpless as she watched Tommy prepare the sailboat. She and Lola had dressed in multiple layers, so much so that she felt like a blimp, and she huddled out of the way while Tommy sauntered to and fro.
“He’s like a master of the seas,” Christine said teasingly.
Lola nodded. “You really should have seen him when we encountered that horrible storm last August. I thought we were dead meat. Shark snacks.”
Before they’d headed out, they had stopped at the grocery store to pick up some bottles of wine, cheese, crackers, and fruit. Christine held the basket tightly as the sailboat surged out across the waves, abandoning the island. It was a surprise, how freeing it really felt. It was almost as though Christine had left all the darkness behind. Almost.
They sailed for a while without speaking. Christine watched Lola’s beautiful hair flip out wildly with the wind. Occasionally, she would watch Lola’s eyes turn toward Tommy with love as he opened a sail or tightened one down.
After a while, the sailboat passed by the cliffs along the southwestern tip of the island. Christine removed the bottle of wine from the basket as Lola clapped her gloved hands together and said, “Yes! I think it’s time for a toast to Baby Max’s progress.”
Christine poured them glasses. They lifted them toward the island, as Christine announced, “To our dear, sweet, Max Sheridan. We love you more than words. And we can’t wait to share the waters of the Vineyard Sound with you. I know you’ll be just as graceful on the sea as your grandmother’s boyfriend.”
“A grandmother’s boyfriend!” Lola cackled. “I can’t believe I’m a grandmother. I’m not even forty yet.”
“You always get everything out of the way early,” Christine said as she wagged her eyebrows.
Lola jabbed her with her elbow playfully. “I never should have told you when I lost my virginity.”
“You were so proud of it! So early! Before any of your friends,” Christine replied, cackling.
“She’s a wild one,” Tommy agreed. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Christine allowed the soft red wine to fall across her tongue. Her eyes swept across the top of the island. “I can’t believe it’s all there. Our entire life, on top of that big rock. I used to feel like I owned the entire world back when I traveled so much for work. But in reality, I was just a stranger in a strange world.”
Lola nodded. “I have asked myself a few times if, in coming here, I gave up on the world. But I don’t think so. We can come and go as we please, but we always have a place to call home. Even Tommy, a guy who always said he would never call anywhere home but now gets a tiny bit homesick when he’s out on the boat too long. Don’t you, Tommy?”
Tommy gave her a look that said he’d asked her to keep that information to herself. At this, both Lola and Christine burst into giggles.
They continued to sail through the glow of the afternoon. They went over the baby’s progress again and discussed what would happen if the baby was eventually given over to them.
“I can bring the supplies from the nursery over to the house,” Christine said. “Audrey and I both sleep upstairs, so we can create a little baby haven up there.”
Lola nodded as she stitched her brows together. Christine could sense her question — one revolving around Zach and if he would ever return home.
At this, Christine shrugged and said, “I don’t want to be in that house without him. It’s too sad. I just want to be at our family house, with everyone else. There’s so much love there. I don�
��t want Max to feel any sadness or as though anything is off.”
Lola pressed her lips in a straight line as she poured herself another glass. “And you still haven’t heard from him?”
“No. Nothing at all.” It felt like a punch to the cheek. “And the bistro is like a ghost town.”
“Don’t worry about the bistro,” Lola muttered. “I just can’t understand why he would do this. We’ve all gone through tremendous pain.”
“But we’ve never lost a child,” Christine whispered. “At least, not yet.”
They dropped their chins low and considered the heaviness of those words. How scary they actually were to even say. Inwardly, Christine cursed herself again for ever thinking she could have the life of her dreams. But at that moment, the sails lifted, and the wind rushed through them, and the water smashed against the sides of the glorious boat. She forced her eyes up; she forced herself to see, to truly see what surrounded her.
She had the most beautiful life in the world. She needed to be grateful for it. No matter what happened.
Chapter Thirteen
Audrey hadn’t yet made it through an entire night of sleep. Every few hours, her eyes popped open, and her hands went to that once-familiar place, her abdomen, which had started its gradual shrink back toward her hips. There was no baby in there, she reminded herself in the dead of night. Her baby was far away, at the hospital. Her baby was a separate entity, a boy with a brain of his own and ten fingers and ten toes.
At around four in the morning, on March 10 and very nearly two weeks after Max’s birth, Audrey appeared downstairs in front of the kitchen table. There, she found her Grandpa Wes alert, his eyes toward the water. He had a pen lifted, the tip of it against one of the boxes of a crossword. Before the birth of Max, Audrey and Grandpa Wes had done a number of crosswords together. They were one of Audrey’s favorite pastimes, for one, but for two, she had read that doing puzzles like that helped dementia patients. Day after day, box after box, they’d filled in crosswords. And then, on February 27, Max had been born, and Audrey hadn’t bothered with a single crossword since. Actually, she hadn’t even thought of it.
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