Summer's Child

by Diane Chamberlain

  After a few minutes, Rory walked up the steps and sat near her on the porch. “I’m glad you’re here, actually,” he said. “I wanted to talk with you.”

  His voice was so serious that her heartbeat quickened. There’s no way he could know, she told herself. No way. Unless maybe…Could he have somehow found the nurse?

  “What about?” she asked.

  “Well, it’s a bit awkward,” he said. “I need to tell you that, over the past few days, I’ve come to realize that I care about Daria as more than a friend.”

  It took her a moment to understand. “You mean…you’re in love with her?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She could not help but smile, despite the implications of that news for herself. Daria and Rory. She had certainly never thought of them as a couple, but it made very good sense. They were a team. “I’m glad for you,” she said.

  He leaned over to take her hand. “Thank you,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”

  “I can’t blame you for that,” she said. “I haven’t exactly been an open book with you, have I?”

  “No,” he admitted. “You haven’t.”

  “Well, I’ve enjoyed the time you and I spent together, but I think it’s really good that you and Daria found each other.” She kept the smile on her face, but inside, her heart was twisting. She no longer had an excuse to come to Kill Devil Hills—or to see Shelly. She’d hoped that somehow she and Shelly could have developed a bond that would transcend her need for a relationship with Rory, but that had not happened. And now, she’d run out of time.

  “I guess I won’t be seeing you again, then, huh?” she asked.

  “You don’t need to be a stranger,” Rory said, although he had to know as well as she did that there was no point in her visiting Kill Devil Hills again.

  She struggled to find a way to shift the conversation to Shelly. “It must make Shelly happy, that you and Daria are together,” she said. Not exactly a seamless transition, but it was the best she could do.

  “I don’t know if she knows yet,” he said. “Daria and I just came to this conclusion last night, and I think Shelly was at Andy’s.”

  “Oh, yes, what’s that all about?” she asked.

  “Apparently, they’ve been seeing each other for a couple of years. And Shelly is pregnant. They want to get married, but Daria’s worried about—”

  “She’s pregnant?” Grace leaned forward. The rapid heartbeat again. Her doctor would have a fit if he knew the stress she was putting herself under. “How far along?”

  “Not far,” Rory said. “You’ve seen her in her bathing suit.”

  “She should probably have some prenatal testing, shouldn’t she?” Grace proposed. “I mean, given her…you know, her…the brain damage.”

  “But brain damage isn’t inherited,” he said. “There’s no reason to think her baby wouldn’t be perfectly normal.”

  He probably thought she was an idiot. “Oh.” She smiled, trying to make herself look sheepish. “Right.”

  “No, the real question is whether she should have this baby at all. And if she does, can she take care of it.”

  The baby’s grandmother could help her, Grace thought, and she felt tears rush to her eyes. She quickly lifted her sunglasses from her lap and slipped them onto her face. “Well,” she said, standing up. “I think it’s time I was on my way. Thanks for putting up with me, Rory.”

  He stood up to give her a dispassionate hug. “Keep in touch,” he said. “I hope things work out for you.”

  “Thanks,” she said. She left the porch and walked across the sand to her car, not daring to look back at Rory—or across the street at the Sea Shanty.

  Eddie was waiting for her in the above-garage apartment. Grace stopped short when she saw him there, and he launched into an obviously rehearsed speech.

  “Look,” he said, “I know I was wrong to do this, but please believe me, I did it because I’m worried about you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I followed you when you left today,” he said. “I followed you all the way to Kill Devil Hills, and I saw you go to the cottage where Rory Taylor is staying. I didn’t know whose cottage it was, but I asked someone and they told me. I guess…I guess that’s where you’ve been going, huh? To see him? Was that who you were watching for outside the motel window in Greenville?”

  Grace felt trapped and weary. She wished Eddie would at least yell at her, express some anger, so that she could get angry back. But that was not Eddie’s style. She sat down on the sofa. “It’s not what you think,” she said. The line sounded as tired as she felt.

  “I’m in a state of shock,” Eddie said, taking a seat on the other side of the room. “The last thing I expected was another man. I didn’t think you had the energy or interest for that. I didn’t think that was what you wanted.”

  There were tears in Eddie’s eyes, and she couldn’t bear to look at them. “You’re right,” she said. “That’s not what I wanted.”

  “Then why have you been seeing him? I don’t understand, Grace. Do you want a divorce? Is that what would make you happy? I want to help you, and I don’t know how.”

  Grace closed her eyes and felt her body sink lower into the sofa. It was all too much. Shelly was pregnant. Rory had chosen Daria over her. She might never see Shelly again. She wished she could simply crawl into bed and bury her head under the pillow. But Eddie was questioning her, begging her for answers, and somehow she had to find a way to explain to him her behavior of the past few months.

  She could think of no way other than to tell him the truth.

  “Great beach weather,” Bonnie said sarcastically as she stood by the cottage window and stared out at the street. It was not raining, not yet, anyhow, but the clouds were thick, and there was a chill in the air. It had been this way for three days, the first three days of their week-long postgraduation vacation in Kill Devil Hills. The cottage was two blocks from the beach, a one-bedroom with a view of the street. It was the best they could afford.

  Grace looked up from the book she was reading. “Maybe tomorrow will be better,” she said, although she didn’t personally care one way or another. She was just relieved to be away from her mother and Charlottesville, where she’d had to mask her pregnancy. Here, for the first time, she was wearing actual maternity shorts and a top that ballooned over her abdomen. She was nearly eight months along, although she knew she didn’t look it, maternity clothes or not. A few of her classmates might have suspected something, but her mother attributed her weight gain to nothing more than her obstinacy. Her mother rarely spoke with her, anyway; she had not forgiven her for quitting Brad’s modeling agency and for letting herself “go to pot,” as she put it.

  This week at the beach was not simply an idle getaway for her and Bonnie, though. They were supposed to use this time to figure out what Grace should do. The only thing she knew for certain was that she was keeping the baby. She already loved it. She’d loved it from the moment she knew it existed. Her maternal instincts were very strong—strong enough that she’d gone to a neighboring town for prenatal care, not wanting to take any chances with the health of her baby. The doctor there had tried to persuade her to put the baby up for adoption, but Grace was firm in her resolve. Her mother would have a fit, of course, and would most likely kick her out. But Grace was determined to find a way to take care of herself and her child, and Bonnie had promised to help in any way she could.

  Bonnie flopped down in one of the ratty-looking chairs and put her feet up on the coffee table. “I’ve already run out of books to read,” she said.

  “You can borrow some of mine,” Grace offered.

  “No offense, but I’m not very interested in reading baby books,” Bonnie said.

  There was a sudden knock at the door, and Grace jumped. She couldn’t shake the fear that somehow her mother would find out she was pregnant and show up in Kill Devil Hills to drag her home. She stiffened as Bonnie got
up and walked to the door.

  A woman stood on the front steps. “Hi,” she said with a smile. She was probably in her late twenties. “I’m Nancy. My husband and I are staying in the cottage next door, and we don’t have a TV or radio. But we heard some talk that a storm was on its way in the next few days, and we were wondering if maybe you knew what was going on. Do you have a TV in your cottage?”

  “Yes, a little one,” Bonnie said. “We haven’t had it on much, though. I don’t know what the weather report is.”

  Grace stood up and walked to the door. “You’re welcome to come over later when the news is on,” she said.

  “Thanks, I’ll stop by around five, if you don’t mind,” Nancy said. “We may leave if it’s going to be like this all week. We’ve been planning this vacation for so long, and I can’t believe how crummy the weather’s been.” Her gaze was on Grace’s belly as she spoke, and Grace felt torn between self-consciousness and pride.

  “We’ll be here,” Bonnie said. “There’s not much else to do.”

  At exactly five, Nancy and her husband returned to Bonnie and Grace’s cottage, and the four of them sat in the living room watching the news on the small black-and-white television.

  The husband’s name was Nathan, and he was an engineer with short, jet-black hair, dark eyes behind thick, wire-rimmed glasses and a bushy beard. He was very quiet, lying on the cottage floor, his back propped up against the sofa, as he focused on the TV. Nancy, though, was talkative.

  “Where are you girls from?” she asked.

  “Charlottesville,” Bonnie said. “We just graduated from high school. This week at the beach is our present to ourselves.”

  “High school?” Nancy asked. Again, her gaze moved to Grace’s stomach, and this time Grace felt distinct discomfort. “You’re not married, then, I take it?” Nancy asked.

  “No,” Grace said.

  “Wow.” Nancy said. “When are you due?”

  “Another month,” Grace said.

  “Do you…Excuse me for asking such personal questions, but I’m a nurse. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No,” Grace said. For some reason, she didn’t mind Nancy’s probing. The woman’s questions were personal, but gently asked.

  “Are you keeping the baby?”

  “Yes, though I haven’t figured out yet how I’m going to support it and me,” she said.

  “Won’t your parents help?”

  Grace laughed. “I just have a mother,” she said. “And she doesn’t know.”

  “She doesn’t know?” Nancy asked, incredulous. “Is she blind?”

  “I’ve hidden it,” she said. “She just thinks I’m fat.”

  “Wow,” Nancy said again. “What will she do when she finds out?”

  “Have a heart attack.” Grace laughed. “Right after she kills me.”

  “Why didn’t you have an abortion?” Nancy asked.

  “I didn’t want one,” Grace said simply.

  “It must be scary not to know how you’ll support the baby,” Nancy said. “You’re wise to be concerned about that. You’re only eighteen, right?”

  “Not quite,” Grace admitted.

  “Gee, honey, I think you should give some serious thought to adoption.”

  “No, I’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

  Nathan yawned from his station on the floor.

  “It’s just that there are so many couples out there who can’t have a baby of their own for one reason or another,” Nancy said. “They would be able to give your baby a good home, with two parents and lots of love.”

  Nancy was tapping into the one misgiving that gnawed at her: she was not being fair to this baby by depriving it of two parents and the material goods it deserved to have.

  “I couldn’t give it away,” she said.

  “I understand,” Nancy said. “I don’t think I could, either. But you still have a month to think through that decision.”

  “I’ve thought it through,” Grace said.

  “Well, how has your pregnancy been?” Nancy asked.

  “Easy,” Grace said. “I was never even sick. Although now…I’m getting kind of nervous. I’ve been reading books about labor and everything. It scares me.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Nancy said.

  “What kind of nurse are you?” Grace asked. “Have you ever helped at a delivery?”

  “When I was a student, yes, I sure did. Right now, though, I’m an oncology nurse.”

  “What’s that?” Bonnie asked.

  “I work with cancer patients in a hospital in Elizabeth City.”

  “That must be hard,” Grace said.

  “Hard, but rewarding,” Nancy said.

  “So,” Grace began, hungry for information, “when you were a student, what was the longest labor you ever saw?”

  Nancy laughed. “You’re worrying yourself into a tizzy, aren’t you?” she asked. “It’s not worth getting worked up about, I can promise you that. It’ll all be over before you know it, and then you’ll have your beautiful baby in your arms.”

  Grace didn’t feel particularly comforted. She knew no one else she could discuss this with. “But why do women scream?” she asked. “I mean, I fell and broke my arm once, and I didn’t scream even though the pain was truly unbearable. So I figure, the pain of having a baby must be thousands of times worse.”

  She thought there was sympathy in Nancy’s eyes. “I’ve never gone through it myself,” she said, “so I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything from personal experience.”

  Grace thought Nathan glanced at his wife when she said that, but she couldn’t be sure. His glasses were so thick it was hard to tell just what his eyes were doing.

  “But every woman I’ve ever known has been just fine with it,” Nancy continued. “Yes, they might scream, but in a couple of years they turn around and do it all over again. It’s worth it to them. Really, Grace, you don’t want to spend this whole last month of your pregnancy worrying about that.”

  Grace let her head fall back against the chair, suddenly overwhelmed by everything she had to worry about. “Worry is my middle name, lately,” she said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. How do I tell my mother? Where will I live? I only have a little bit of money in my savings. At first, I can nurse the baby, right? I won’t have to pay for food?”

  Nancy stared at her hard for a moment before answering. “You’re not prepared for this,” she said, her voice now low and serious. “You need to get help from an agency. You’re in Charlottesville, you said? Write down your name and phone number for me and when I get back to Elizabeth City, I’ll do some research and find out where you can go to get help. Okay?”

  “Thanks,” Grace said. She suddenly felt less alone. Bonnie was a good friend and a loyal supporter, but she knew just as little about birth and babies as Grace did.

  “And,” Nancy continued, “I think the first thing you need to do when you get back to Charlottesville is to tell your mother what’s going on.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “You don’t know my mother,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think I can go back to the house at all. I’m getting too big. She’ll know. Bonnie and I have to figure out where I can lie low during the next month.”

  Nancy sighed, and Grace read disapproval in her face. “This is no way to live, Grace,” she said. “I’ll get you that information on agencies that can help you, but I want you to promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “That after this baby is born, you’ll go on the Pill. You can’t let this happen again. This baby you’re carrying should never have been conceived.”

  Grace wanted to say it wasn’t her fault. She wanted to pour out the story of what had happened in Hawaii. But she could have said no to Brad; she could have said no to Joey. No one had raped her. It was her fault.

  “I know,” she said. “Believe me, it won’t ever happen again. Not this way, anyhow.”

  There were brief intervals of sun
shine over the next few days, enough to encourage Nancy and Nathan to remain in Kill Devil Hills for the rest of their vacation, and enough to keep Bonnie from complaining too much. The promised storm hit on Saturday. It was not a hurricane, although there had been talk of it becoming one. It was considered a tropical storm, and evacuation was not required, although most vacationers left the Outer Banks that Saturday morning, knowing what was coming. Grace and Bonnie did not leave, however. Their lease was up the following day; they were due to be out by one in the afternoon, but Grace was not ready to let go of her time away from home. She still didn’t know where she was going to go. She’d given Nancy her phone number so that the nurse could call her as soon as she had information about an agency that might be able to help her. She wished it were winter instead of summer, so she could cover her body more easily with heavy clothing. Maybe she could simply avoid her mother.

  As darkness fell, the wind was wild and whistling, and the cottage shuddered violently, as though it might collapse around them. For the first time that week, Grace and Bonnie were glad they had not been able to afford a house on the ocean. Surely they would be washed away.

  They had very little food left, and it was too nasty to go out for more, so for dinner, they made do with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The power went out shortly after dinner, taking their lights and their TV. There was one hurricane lantern in the cottage, and they lit it and set it on the coffee table. Sitting on the sofa, they watched the flame lick at the inside of the glass chimney. And that’s when Grace’s cramping started.

  “Can peanut butter and jelly go bad?” she asked Bonnie.

  “I don’t think so. We just bought it a few days ago, anyway. Why?”

  “I have a stomachache.”

  “Oh,” teased Bonnie, “you’re probably going into labor.”

  “Very funny,” Grace said. But she feared that Bonnie might be right. This was not a typical stomachache. More like menstrual cramps that came and went. But they were mild, ignorable, certainly not like labor would be. And she was only eight months pregnant.