Forever Friends
Page 3
The subsequent silence was somehow even worse than before. A caterpillar crawled near the toe of her shoe. She watched its painstaking journey with a small frown. What would it be like to encase herself in a cocoon and emerge as a beautiful, bold butterfly?
She lingered on the bench long after the caterpillar disappeared into the undergrowth, not quite sure what to do with herself. She didn’t even jump when a clap of thunder erupted in the sky. Not until the first raindrops started to hit her cheeks did she finally stir, gathering her purse to head inside her empty house, where she would eat leftover chicken pot pie and binge Netflix until it was late enough for bed.
Tansy was off tailgating. Sadie was soon to be snuggled up with her handsome husband and sweet toddler as they read one final bedtime story. Bree was undoubtedly knitting while gossiping with her bestie, Jill. And Dr. Dan was definitely sharing a bottle of red with a gorgeous, fascinating woman.
God she was lonely.
Chapter Three
Sadie sat on the edge of the bathtub and slow blinked at the double pink lines.
But…how? She was on birth control, took her pill religiously as soon as she woke up. She’d sit up in bed, set the tiny pill on her tongue, and wash it down with an entire glass of water.
Wait, had she missed one? Maybe when Lincoln had that upper respiratory infection? His little nose had been running nonstop and his barking cough was painful just to listen to. She’d crawled into bed with him a few nights, holding him close and stroking his back, doing whatever she could to help him sleep away the sickness.
Come to think of it, maybe she’d missed two pills.
So that was the punishment for missing two pills then—two pink lines.
Two children.
She tapped her bare foot against the black-and-white floor tiles. She hadn’t had a pedicure since last summer, and you could tell. How was a woman who couldn’t take care of her own two feet supposed to raise two whole children?
When Sadie got pregnant with Lincoln, it was also a surprise. She’d been pitching a design concept for a hybrid floral and dessert shop when the first wave of nausea hit. Her mentor, Erin Bellman, had held the trash can for her while she puked.
“Too much fun last night?” Erin murmured, eyebrows raised.
Sadie paled. “We stayed in and watched a movie. I must have a bug.”
Erin sent her home and when Sadie stopped at the pharmacy for Sprite and saltines, she hastily grabbed a pregnancy test, as well.
Those two lines, the ones from two years ago, were somehow not as scary as these.
How ridiculous is that?
She and Ethan weren’t married then. In fact, they’d only been dating for six months. Six months! They’d been still very much in the honeymoon phase.
“I don’t want you to freak out,” she’d told him calmly, pushing the positive pregnancy test across her coffee table. “I’m pregnant. We’re pregnant. But I can handle this.”
She had a good job at Urban Design Studios, a job she was lucky enough to love. While no Suze Orman, she was (mostly) practical with her money. And with twelve weeks of fully paid maternity leave and coworkers happy to share nanny recommendations, Sadie felt as prepared as she’d ever be.
Little did she know parenthood would be like jumping out of a plane without a parachute, occasionally exhilarating, and always terrifying.
Ethan had reacted well, though. Sadie had braced herself for the worst and had instead gotten the best. Ethan had engulfed her in his arms and held her tight. “I love you,” he’d whispered. “We’ll make this work together.”
And true to his word, Ethan had proposed there in her studio apartment the very next evening, presenting her with a diamond engagement ring stunning in its simplicity.
What was Ethan going to say to this news? Would he be excited? Scared? Worried? Hell, maybe she’d get a pair of diamond studs this go-around.
Sadie giggled, half delirious.
Just when she had hoped to soon see the light at the end of the toddler tunnel, she would be plunged back into darkness. Middle of the night feedings? Colic? Endless diapers? Of course she knew all the perks of parenting, but right now that joy seemed out of reach.
Instead she was going to be trapped in her house trying and failing over and over and over…forever. It wasn’t just the mental and physical exhaustion; it was the pressure to be the best mom with Pinterest-perfect lunches, curated wooden toys, and a flawless bikini body.
Stop!
She didn’t have the energy reserves to mom shame herself. Instead, she shoved the pregnancy test toward the back of the top vanity drawer, splashed cold water across her face, and tried to focus. Ethan had arrived home from Boston an hour earlier, and then ducked into his home office for one final phone meeting. That left the remainder of the party chores to Sadie, and considering Ethan would have to drive down to Portland to pick up Annette at the airport early tomorrow morning, time was not on her side.
She kneaded her temples, willing the headache to go into remission. She could brew a pot of coffee and power through the exhaustion, but a pregnancy headache? That was an entirely different beast.
Those things had teeth.
Annette would no doubt arrive at the cottage looking as if she’d been at the day spa rather than on a cramped prop plane, and waste no time at all handing out the little gifts she’d packed.
“Can you believe this? Mom brought me Skyline!” Ethan would exclaim, proudly holding up the blue cans of chili, as though Annette didn’t do this every, single time. “And Montgomery Inn sauce? You shouldn’t have!”
Sadie was shocked Annette didn’t check a personal cooler on her Delta flight so she could bring her son a few pints of Graeter’s ice cream, as well. She was like some strange female version of Santa Claus, except she came bearing gifts from Southwest Ohio.
During her grumpier moods, Sadie couldn’t help but suspect Annette’s ulterior motive was to make Ethan homesick. His two siblings, Stephen and Kelly, both lived in Cincinnati with their respective families, and it killed Annette that Ethan had chosen to establish his family in Maine and not the Midwest.
“Lincoln will want to know all his cousins.” Annette loved to pout.
“And he will,” Sadie had replied confidently. “We visit every summer and Thanksgiving, remember? And everyone is always welcome here.”
Unfortunately, they hadn’t been great about their end of this promise. With Ethan’s crazy work schedule, it had been almost a year since they’d last visited Ohio. Annette likely knew how long it had been, down to the number of seconds.
And now the idea of herding two kids on a plane…she’d rather take a bath with a man-eating shark.
She pulled out her phone and reviewed her party checklist in her notes. Despite the fact that she’d been dashing around like a chicken with her head cut off, the list didn’t feel any shorter. No, it only seemed to multiply and grow. How did that math work out?
Next she needed to pick up one of those classic number birthday candles from Shopper’s Corner. Lincoln blowing out a flame atop a large number two was a perfect photo op—plus, she and Ethan would be able to look at the photos later and immediately know which birthday he’d been celebrating.
And there was still more cleaning to do. The bathrooms needed a scrub, and the living room windows could stand to be sprayed with vinegar. At least the sheets in the guest room were fresh, and she’d been careful to wash them with Dreft per Annette’s instructions: “Anything stronger than baby detergent makes me break out in hives!” followed by “You did remember to stock Benadryl, didn’t you, dear?”
Sadie had picked up the chicken tenders and croissant sandwiches earlier that afternoon, so lunch was all set. The refrigerator was wiped down and stocked with nutritious and kid-friendly snacks. And the kitchen was so clean, you could eat off its newly refinished floors.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Sadie’s stomach plunged—the smoke alarm? What the what?
Oh
…God…no…
Shit. The freaking cupcakes! She’d put them in the oven nearly forty-five minutes ago! But somehow finding out she was expecting a new life made them slip her mind.
Sprinting toward the kitchen, Sadie stepped on one of Lincoln’s Duplo blocks and howled. What were his toys doing flung down the hall? He stuck his head out of his doorway, his eyes huge and scared.
She smothered a string of swear words, bent down and scooped him up.
“Shhhh. Shhhh. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay! Mommy just burnt something.”
She continued toward the kitchen, only to collide with a headset-wearing Ethan who impatiently gestured toward his office. His brows furrowed the way they always did when he got peeved.
“Conference call, remember,” he stage-whispered, gesturing for them to keep it down.
She noticed the can of soda on his desk beside an open bag of corn chips and a salsa jar. He had ESPN muted on the television set, and the Boston Globe flung open on the arm of his Lazy Boy.
Home office or man cave?
“Sorry.” She wove around him and into her beautiful, clean kitchen now filled with acrid smoke. She set Lincoln on the ground before rummaging around for oven mitts. “Sweetie, stand back while Mommy gets the cupcakes out, okay?”
“Kay,” Lincoln agreed.
Except when Sadie pulled the charred dessert from the oven and set them on the stovetop, she was surprised to be hit with a sudden gush of cold water.
Huh?
She whirled around, only to get sprayed right in the face.
“Lincoln! What are you doing?” she sputtered. “That went up my nose!”
“Putting fire out! Like fireman!” he said proudly, having scrambled on top of the kitchen counter and grabbed the spray nozzle from the sink. He squirted more water at both Sadie and the cupcakes, proving that contrary to this morning’s pee-pee debacle, he possessed remarkable aim.
Sadie shook her head, at a complete loss as to where she should begin with this one. Honestly, she was impressed with Lincoln’s reasoning skills, unsure whether to howl with laughter or break into hysterical tears.
“What’s going on?” Ethan appeared in the doorway, gaping between Sadie and Lincoln. “Little man, you shouldn’t be up there. You could fall and get hurt.”
Sadie snorted at his judgment-laden tone, her temper joining the inferno. “Well since I no longer have time to shower, I figured I’d multitask and have Lincoln hose me down.”
Ethan stared, completely missing the joke, which only annoyed her more. “Listen. I can’t work with all of this noise. I’m going to my car to finish this call.” He started for the front door.
“Are you serious right now?” Sadie scooped Lincoln off the counter and stalked after him. “That’s the best you can offer the situation?”
He doubled his pace. “You need to calm down.”
Jesus take the wheel.
“You’re really not going to even offer to help me? Stop! Do not run away from this!”
“You think I have time to stand around and listen to you act like a toddler, too?”
Oh, no he didn’t.
As he slipped into his car, Sadie erupted from the porch. “You make me feel like a single mom! I never signed up to do this all alone!”
He turned the keys in the ignition and gunned off down Seashell Lane.
Sadie stared after his sporty Audi, her breathing heavy and unshed tears burning in her eyes. They never used to fight. Now it seemed like there were land mines hidden in every day. What was Ethan going to say when she told him about the second baby? Clearly, he couldn’t even handle a little smoke and water. How was he going to survive another round of 2:00 a.m. feedings, teething tears, and diaper blowouts?
She buried her face in Lincoln’s hair, letting the soft ringlets tickle her cheeks as she tried to calm down. Hopefully seeing fights like this weren’t going to mess him up for life. Her own parents never argued in front of her. The worst she’d seen was them exchange stern looks.
Sadie could see it now, Lincoln at twenty sitting on a trendy sofa in some psychiatrist’s office as he sighed, “I think all of my problems started the night my mom burned the birthday cupcakes.”
Whirling around on her bare feet, she was startled to see Renee Rhodes frowning from across the picket fence.
Oh, perfect.
Not only had her next-door neighbor witnessed her poor excuse for time management at the doctor’s office this morning, she’d nabbed front-row seats to an ugly argument.
Renee cleared her throat. “Everything okay?”
Sadie swallowed hard and forced a brittle smile. “I’m fine, honestly. We’re just, uh, gearing up for Lincoln’s birthday party tomorrow, and things have gotten hectic.”
Oh, God. Had Renee heard the single-mom comment? How rude. She’d almost certainly offended her.
“Why are you wet?” Renee asked.
Sadie glanced down at her soaked yoga pants and sweatshirt. “The cupcakes were burning, and Lincoln tried to extinguish them. And me.”
“Is dessert as soaked as you?”
“You bet. We may have a future Cranberry Cove firefighter on our hands.”
“Yeah! Fireman!” Lincoln cheered, pumping his little fist into the air. “Me!”
Renee tucked her gardening gloves inside her back pocket. “Do you have a backup dessert?”
“Yeah right.” Sadie shook her head. “I can’t even seem to pull off plan A.”
Renee opened the gate, walking toward her front door. “No use crying over burned baked goods. It happens to the best of us.” Her voice was calm and take-charge. Renee’s soothing tone reminded Sadie of the way her Grandma Hester used to console her, her serene words healing every disappointment, from a bad test score to being excluded from a classmate’s birthday party.
Plus? The smile tugging at the corners of Renee’s lips was helping Sadie see the humor in the mishap.
“You know what? I’ve got a few pounds of frozen blueberries leftover from last summer. And I’ve been looking for an excuse to bake a pie—or five.” Renee smiled.
“That’s sweet, but please don’t feel like you have to. This isn’t your circus,” Sadie protested weakly.
“I know. I want to.” She gave a reassuring wink. “This is what neighbors do in Cranberry Cove.”
Chapter Four
Unlike Renee’s pantry, Sadie’s wasn’t filled with a mishmash of five kinds of flour, confectioners’ sugar, cornstarch, baking powder, baking soda, chocolate chips, dried fruit, and who knows what else. Instead, hidden behind a Shaker door were rows of neatly labeled Mason jars.
“Wow, are you organized or what?” Renee blinked. “No surprise from the babysitter who used to arrive complete with craft kits.”
“Huh?” Sadie glanced up from the ruined cupcakes she was tossing into the trash, cocking her head with a sparrowlike movement. “Oh those? Ha, honestly, half of that stuff is probably expired, and the worst part is that I’ll never know because I pitched all the bags.” Her wan smile grew wistful. “You remember my crafts?”
Renee nodded. “Tansy still hangs the felt snowman you made with her on the tree every Christmas.”
Sadie seemed to almost flinch, turning to face the window. A strange melancholy seemed to settle into the room. Down the hill, the waves were ebbing. The outgoing tide revealed exposed rocks, splinters of wood, and wild mussel beds. “God, I used to be so organized. But when it comes to dealing with my own kid—it’s a whole different story.”
“Okay, time to make a plan.” Renee clapped her hands, an inexplicable feeling of fullness rising in her chest, in sharp contrast to the hollow emptiness that seemed to cling to Sadie. “I’m going to run back to my house and grab those blueberries. Can you pop a large metal mixing bowl in the freezer?”
Sadie blinked, turning from the window and refocusing. “Bowl. Freezer. Got it.”
“Here’s how the evening is going to go. I’m going to whip up a few pi
es and muffins to serve at the birthday party tomorrow, and you’re going to put your feet up and relax. And Lincoln can watch a show or two.”
“I don’t know. He’s already had his thirty minutes of screen time,” Sadie began to protest.
“Sadie, let me be real. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I once set Tansy in front of Barney for an entire weekend when I had the flu,” Renee said. “I promise you it won’t rot his brain.”
“No, of course not.” Sadie exhaled in relief and nodded. “You’re right. And thanks. I really do need a break.”
With a sudden purpose in her step, Renee bustled back to her own quiet cottage where the vacuum cleaner marks still looked pristine three days later and only a single water glass sat in the kitchen sink.
She reached toward the back of the freezer and retrieved the berries. After gathering two bottles of red and white wine, she was struck with a pang as she gave the feeling welling within her chest a name. While Sadie Landry was spiraling in full-on crisis mode, Renee was happy.
It felt good to be needed, she realized, staring at a framed photo of Tansy on the wall.
Her daughter was wearing braided pigtails and a dress that featured a red skirt and blue top with white stars. The sparkler in Tansy’s little hand illuminated her face, and the gap where her front two teeth should have been made Renee’s heart ache for that simpler time. Cranberry Cove’s annual Fourth of July celebration featured a picnic, fireworks show, and an afternoon parade for the smaller children. How many times had she helped Tansy decorate her bike with streamers and pinwheels and cheered as her daughter pedaled down the town’s main drag?
It wasn’t that she took pleasure in Sadie’s ill luck; it was more that it felt so good to be useful again. To be able to feel less alone, even for a few hours.
When she returned to Sadie’s cottage the young mother had turned on the Wild Kratts and was on her knees mopping up the water on the kitchen floor.
“Hey there,” Renee said. “I don’t know what kind of wine you like, so I brought choices. Pick your poison.”