“Maybe,” she said.
“Maybe?”
Renee shrugged, even though her sister couldn’t see her. Ever since Tansy had gone away to college, she’d felt herself become more of a hermit than ever. What interesting things did she possibly have to share with the group? The word of the day she’d received from Dr. Dan? A synopsis of the umpteenth novel she’d read? A review of the mushroom stroganoff recipe she’d recently made?
Her life was so pathetically boring.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” Renee said. “Promise.”
“Mmmm-hmmm.” Bree didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll drop you off some tickets. Try to do more than think. Do!”
After hanging up, Renee ran lavender-scented moisturizer over her arms and elbows, her legs and knees, before massaging a new night serum across her forehead and freckled cheeks. She brushed and flossed her teeth, swishing her mouth with minty mouthwash. She stood in front of the bedroom window for a few moments, always taking one last glance at quiet Seashell Lane below, as if she was head of some sort of neighborhood watch brigade. Then, finally, she slipped into her cotton pajamas, played Enya on her phone, and climbed into her sleigh bed.
This was good. She was lucky. Beyond fortunate. Her home was paid off thanks to a small inheritance from her parents. She had a job that connected her to children and families in the community. Her daughter earned a full ride to one of the most prestigious universities in the country. For the first time in her adult life, she had savings and no money stress. And tonight? Tonight, she’d been able to help a neighbor get through a stressful situation. Even better, she’d connected with Sadie Landry in a much deeper way than their previous babysitter-mother or cordial neighbor relationships had ever allowed. It had felt so satisfying, so freeing to talk to Sadie as openly as they had.
And yet, as Renee stared at the bedroom ceiling, she felt herself closing up as she always did, building the same safe walls around her inner self that she’d meticulously maintained for years now.
I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m happy…
But while white lies were easy to tell, you couldn’t hide from yourself.
She might be fortunate, but she wasn’t fulfilled.
And she didn’t have the first clue what to do about it.
Chapter Five
Sadie handed the last of Lincoln’s party guests a favor—a mini woven picnic basket, which included a bottle of bubbles, sidewalk chalk, and organic gummies—gently nudging her son forward.
“What do you say to Clementine?”
What a great name. Maybe if the baby is a girl, we can do something sweet and old-fashioned like that. Charlotte? Camilla?
“Tank you,” Lincoln mumbled down at his tiny loafers.
“Aw, lovely manners.” Daphne Stewart, Clementine’s mother, smiled. “I don’t know how you do it! This party was something pulled straight from Pinterest.”
“It was nothing.” Sadie waved her off airily even though she was ready to fall asleep in her Adidas. It had been great catching up with her high school friends who had stuck around the Cove and grown up to have children of their own. Daphne had once been the senior class wild child, notorious for streaking during football games. These days she owned Stripe—a boutique dress shop on Main Street that sold locally made frocks and delicate, handmade jewelry.
“Well I know it can take a ton of work for something to appear effortless.”
“Don’t make me blush. Anyway, you and Jacob have to come over soon. Maybe for a barbecue on the deck when the weather is a little more predictable.”
“Predictable?” Daphne laughed. “This is still Maine we are talking about, right?”
“Hey now, the most predictable thing about this place is our unpredictable weather.”
After giving Daphne a quick squeeze goodbye, she shut the front door. “We survived.”
Ethan’s arms slipped around her middle, his hands resting right where the baby hid. Was this the moment to break the news? She’d tried telling him last night, after he’d arrived home with the beautiful apology bouquet, after they’d shared a slice of Renee’s pie and laughed over how ridiculous they must have sounded shouting in the front yard, but then? Annette had called in a tizzy. She couldn’t find her birthday gift for Lincoln anywhere, and had she sent it to their house by mistake?
Naturally, Annette had found the gift fifteen frazzled minutes later (because apparently having Ethan “help” over one thousand miles away proved useful), and Sadie had taken deep, deep breaths and reminded herself to remain calm.
She means well. She means well. She means well.
“Mmmmm. Somebody smells berry-licious.” Ethan nestled his bristly face in the crook between her cheek and shoulder and gave her a soft kiss in her favorite spot. She closed her eyes, enjoying his woodsy scent—the Ralph Lauren Polo cologne she’d gotten him for Christmas. “Nice job. Reminds me of the over-the-top themed parties you used to throw down in Boston.”
“Really? A two-year-old birthday bash reminds you of those parties?” Green Jell-O shots came to mind from Sadie’s very glittery and very green St. Patrick’s Day get-together as well as the witches’ brew she’d concocted for one Halloween, complete with a fog machine for an extra effect.
“You know what I mean,” he said with a half smile. “Just that you think of every last detail.”
“Well, thanks, honey,” she said.
Ethan moved his mouth closer to her ear. “I plan on showing you my gratitude later.”
“Oh yeah?” Sadie gave him a lazy grin, wiggling her bum against his belt buckle. Exhausted as she was, it had been a while. Come to think of it, she knew exactly how long. And wouldn’t it be better to drop the pregnancy bomb after lovemaking? She gave a little shiver, imagining his big warm hands splayed over her naked belly as they spooned in bed. The soft protective kiss he’d plant on her shoulder. The happiness they’d share as they both imagined the new little life they’d created together.
Because he’d be thrilled, right?
Of course, he would.
So thrilled it’s why she wanted to wait…to make it special.
Of course she wasn’t procrastinating on telling him the truth because she was unsure of his reaction. He’d be over the moon. Probably make that one super excited face, the one he saved for when the Bengals made a touchdown or she bought a new little lacy something.
Ethan turned her around and planted a lingering kiss square on her mouth before pulling back and cupping her cheeks. “Hey. Where’d you just go?”
She huffed a laugh. “Hmm? Nowhere. I’m right here…with you.”
The concerned look faded as his eyes crinkled. “You really did do a great job. Lincoln had a blast.”
This time her smile was real.
Maybe Ethan was still sucking up after yesterday’s fight, but even so—she’d take it. Because it felt freaking fantastic to pull something off—even if that something was a teddy bear picnic–themed birthday party—and be appreciated for the effort.
How was it possible to be this happy, this confident, following yesterday’s drama?
Maybe she could pull of this whole mom of two thing. Let’s see, if the baby was another boy, they were certainly set in terms of clothing. And if it was a girl? Sadie’s mind filled with visions of smock dresses and spunky hair accessories. No matter the baby’s gender, Lincoln would have a sibling, something Sadie herself had always wanted.
Yes. Everything was going to be perfect.
It had to be.
“Earth to Sadie—want to head upstairs?” Ethan teased.
She startled. “As exciting as a little afternoon delight sounds, well, your mom…” Sadie let her voice trail off.
“I’ll ask her to take Lincoln for a walk on the beach to burn off the sugar.” His phone beeped in his pocket and he withdrew it, frowning at the screen. “Damn. First I need to run upstairs and check on something. Hang tight.” And he was off, taking the stairs two at a time.
Welp
. She shrugged. Guess it was good she didn’t just try to break the news.
Later. I’ll tell him later when there are no distractions, she told herself, wandering back into the kitchen where Annette was elbows deep in a sink full of soapy water.
“Oh, no. Stop! You don’t have to do that.” She hurried to her mother-in-law’s side. “Let me finish up.”
Even though Annette Landry had only arrived in Cranberry Cove that morning, she’d jumped in and helped with the party wherever she could. From refilling drinks and cleaning up toddler spills to entertaining the mothers with funny stories about her flight: “The woman sitting beside me ordered a Tanqueray and tonic at six o’clock in the morning! I mean, can you imagine? Then she slipped out of her shoes and propped her bare feet on the back of the seat in front of her.”
Best of all? Not even a single passive-aggressive comment about Ethan, Sadie, and Lincoln moving to Cincinnati.
How silly that she’d wasted so much energy bracing for the worst, when Annette was being nothing but wonderful.
“Not a chance. You deserve a break.” Annette rinsed a platter and set it on a double-folded dish towel to dry. “Those blueberry muffins were a creative choice, by the way. Everyone always does cupcakes, but that’s just too much sugar for a little body, don’t you agree?”
Maybe destroying dessert yesterday had been a blessing in disguise. “I’m glad they were a hit.”
“And those pies were sensational. The entire party was,” Annette said, and Sadie could tell she meant it. “Every detail was meticulous, from the gingham tablecloths to the sunflower arrangements. Oh, and the craft! Decorating little shirts for their new teddy bears! Just darling, and the children loved it.”
“You think so?”
“I’ve already sent the girls photos.” Annette pulled out her iPhone as if to show Sadie evidence. “The girls” were Annette’s three sisters and passing along a glowing review to them was the highest form of flattery in Annette’s world. “They were all impressed, of course, but I said what else would you expect from a former interior designer?”
Oof. Sadie watched a balloon waft listlessly around the living room. Former interior designer. The woman who had once submitted innovative design proposals to corporate executives—the same woman who had been called both a forerunner in ergonomics and a color maverick—was now the mastermind behind a teddy bear picnic–themed birthday party.
But the thing was? Sadie was damn proud of today, just as proud as she’d been of her chic design for a downtown champagne bar or when she’d mapped out an impressive open seating plan for a company of five hundred.
And judging by the amount of Pinterest posts, there was certainly a lot of interest and buzz around children’s birthday parties. She would want to add a few more get-togethers to her portfolio first, but maybe she could open her own party-planning business? It was definitely an idea within the scope of possibility.
“Why don’t you go take a hot shower and after I finish up here I’ll play Hot Wheels with my favorite two-year-old?” Annette picked up Lincoln and held him close against her cashmere sweater. He played with the thick rope of pearls around her neck.
“That sounds amazing.” She squeezed her mother-in-law’s hand in appreciation and hurried up the stairs, before Annette could change her mind.
Except when she opened the door to their master bedroom suite, her husband was perched on the edge of their linen duvet, feverishly texting.
“Knock knock, Mister Love Man,” she purred, cocking a hand on her hip, and sucking in her stomach. They hadn’t gotten naked during daylight hours since Lincoln’s birth.
Mister Love didn’t even bother to look up.
Her shoulders caved a little. “What’s going on? You look intense.”
He started in surprise, darkening his phone and setting it—facedown—on his walnut nightstand, right beside the sterling silver frame of their wedding portrait.
“Just… It’s no one. Or, I mean…” Ethan paused. “Work stuff. I hate to do this, but I need to get back to Boston right away. I’m going to hop in the shower and hit the road.”
“What? No! You literally just got back.” She crossed her arms, meaning business. “Plus, it’s Lincoln’s birthday and your mother is here. Whatever it is can wait until Monday.”
“Enough with the guilt trips.” His voice was pained, exasperated. “I’m sorry, but if I say that I have to go. Seriously. I have to go.” And with that he slammed the double doors to their bathroom behind him.
She glanced at his phone sitting innocently and unoccupied.
Something wasn’t right.
She felt that truth all the way to her bones.
But Ethan also wasn’t the cheating type. Of course, he had also been known as a bit of a player before she entered the picture. They had met while her company was redesigning Ethan’s tech firm’s space, and he had charmed her one morning near the coffeemaker with his knowledge of all things Frank Lloyd Wright and his slight twang she couldn’t quite place.
“Careful around that one,” one of his associates, a woman around Sadie’s age, had said with a wink after Ethan had walked away. “He’s a great guy, but with those bedroom eyes? He gets around.”
“I was only being friendly,” Sadie had laughed at the remark, swearing she wasn’t interested.
But even if Ethan had a heartthrob past, he’d certainly never acted like it since falling for Sadie. From their earliest dates, Ethan had always been attentive and adoring. He worshipped her every feature, even her weird belly button and freckled forehead. He would accompany her on visits to the art museum and patiently read the Globe while she flipped through design books for hours on end. He got along well with her parents and knew her Starbucks order by heart.
So why hadn’t he given her a straight answer about who he had been frantically texting?
A sinking sickness welled within her. What if he’d met another woman in Boston? She began to pace. Maybe that was why he’d surprised her with the Cranberry Cove cottage. It was genius, really. He could hide his wife and child up in Maine while sleeping his way through the city.
Her stomach was a knot as she remembered Renee’s story about Russell and the kindergarten teacher. Breathing seemed impossible.
She could imagine it all too easily.
The other woman was blond and curvy, voluptuous, and definitely had an interesting career. An art collector perhaps? Her name was something sultry like Francesca or Alessandra, and she likely lived in a high-rise with a doorman who knew Ethan by name. Ethan and Francesca probably drank Veuve Clicquot before making love on a bear rug in front of a roaring fire while Kenny G played on the surround sound stereo.
The mental image was so ridiculous she should chuckle.
Instead…
She lunged for Ethan’s phone, typing in his passcode, which had always been her birthday: 09-15-90
But this time his phone didn’t unlock. Her lungs constricted. He’d changed his password.
It must be Francesca’s (or Alessandra’s) birthday now.
This was so freaking stupid. And insecure. And immature. And yet—
“What are you doing?” Ethan stood in the doorway of their bathroom, having already toweled off and changed into jeans and a crewneck. “Snooping?”
“I’m pregnant!” she blurted out, her heart racing. She hurled the word like a weapon or a talisman…she wasn’t sure which.
The color drained from Ethan’s face. He did not run to her side. He didn’t try to embrace her. Nor did he appear in any way thrilled.
In fact, his eyes darkened with visible alarm. “You’re joking.”
She shook her head, praying he’d figure out a way to pull his head from his ass in the next two seconds.
“How are you going to manage?” The words came out in a strained whisper.
“Me?” Her bottom lip trembled, a dam about to break. Was he serious? “What about you? What about us?”
“No. Shit. I didn’t mean it
like that, Sade.” He quickly backtracked, though he still didn’t move so much as a muscle. “It’s just that every time I call you during the workday, you sound near tears. Sometimes I wonder if you’re on the verge of some kind of breakdown.”
She cradled her middle like she’d been sucker punched. It was one thing to feel the feelings. Another entirely for him to notice.
Notice and never check in.
“I mean, I know you’ve worked through the postpartum stuff, but you’re still not yourself.” Ethan was pacing now. “Two kids? I don’t see how we’ll cope without family help.”
“Are you serious right now? First, it wasn’t just postpartum stuff. It was horrible. I was on medication for over a year, remember? If anything I should be pissed as hell that you haven’t done a dish in this house since I quit breastfeeding.”
“Who puts the roof over our head?” He was shouting now. “Don’t act like I don’t contribute. And I don’t see why you don’t make a schedule. Plan better so you don’t get overwhelmed! You’re drowning! And it sucks to watch.”
“It’s not as if you’re tossing me a lifesaver. Do you know everyone in town pities me?” The words were thick with anger, resentment. “They think, ‘Poor Sadie, trying to juggle everything on her own while her husband is off in Boston all the time. She’s practically a single mother!’”
“Oh, give it up.” He snorted. “Nobody says that.”
“They do!”
“Fine then. Sorry for trying to financially support this family! And for buying you your grandma’s house.”
She forced herself to hold his gaze. If she closed her eyes she’d lose her nerve. She needed to get this conversation back on track. “You are more than a paycheck. Our son needs you. I need you.”
A wail came from the doorway and the couple looked over to see Lincoln standing there, tears streaming down his face.
“Mommy!” He pressed his hands over his ears.
“Oh, baby.” Sadie flew forward, shame heating her cheeks. “Shhhhh, it’s all okay.”
Annette rounded the corner a nanosecond faster, engulfing Lincoln in her arms and recoiling from Sadie as if she were a rabid raccoon.
Forever Friends Page 5
