Breakwater Beach

by Carole Ann Moleti

  “Mom, you’re lonely but for God’s sake, don’t keep compounding your problems. You were married to Dad for twenty-five years! You got pregnant by mistake but don’t make another one! This man won’t acknowledge he’s the father, yet he drops in whenever he pleases. What kind of love is that?”

  “This baby is not a mistake, it’s a miracle!” Liz took Jay’s shoulders in her hands and peered so intently into his eyes the young man looked away. Her voice deepened. “And Mike is not his father. I don’t want to have to say it again. I have to live my life, Jay. Your dad never wanted me to be alone.”

  “I know, Mom, but I promised I’d take care of you. This man is after your money!” Jay shook his mother’s hands off.

  Stomach in knots, Mike watched as Liz lost her balance, toppled backward, then hit the wall with a thud. He ran over and grabbed her before she fell to the floor. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” Liz’s eyes were wide in shock. Tears filled her eyes and her chest heaved.

  Mike’s hands instinctively cradled her abdomen, way too intimate a gesture for this setting.

  Jay's fists clenched. He remained more focused on Mike than on his mother, the pregnant woman he’d nearly knocked on her ass.

  Enough was enough. Mike grabbed him by the collar of his fancy button down shirt. “If you have an argument with me, push me around. You wanna fight? Come on, I’m waiting. You keep your hands off your mother.”

  Mike let go, and Jay stormed out of the kitchen.

  The clocked struck eight and the little bird came out of the clock. “Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!”

  Chapter 37

  Liz stared at the floor, unsure of what to do next. The teakettle whistled and stirred Mike to action. He poured two cups and spooned oatmeal into bowls. “Milk and sugar?”

  “I use brown sugar, soy milk, and raisins. It’s more nutritious.” Liz rummaged in the pantry and found the canisters. She took two milk containers out of the refrigerator.

  “I don’t know how to work the coffee maker yet. It’s an industrial one, for when the B and B opens. Jay likes coffee. I got some of that gourmet stuff for him. After I eat, maybe I’ll bring a tray up.”

  “Liz, I don’t know what to say.” Mike busied himself with the coffee maker. Within a few minutes, the aroma of a strong brew filled the kitchen.

  “He’s been like this since I told him. I’m sorry.” Liz forced herself to eat. She normally loved the oatmeal, but today it tasted like glue.

  Mike sat down to eat with her. “Are you sure you’re all right? You keep rubbing your belly.”

  “The baby is agitated. I’m trying to calm him down.” She jumped up and prepared a tray. Movement would vent some of her nervous energy, and hopefully lull the baby to sleep.

  “I think I should leave, at least until Jay goes home.”

  Liz stopped on the way out of the kitchen. “Mike, I need you more than ever now. But you’re being maligned for something you had no part in. I have to go talk to him.”

  Jay didn’t answer the knock. Liz heard noise from her room. He stood by the dresser, sobbing over Gerry’s picture and clutching the tin of ashes to his chest.

  Liz put the tray down and embraced him.

  “I needed to talk to Dad.” Jay dried his eyes on his sleeve.

  “What did he tell you, Jay?” Please, Gerry, help me out here.

  Jay composed himself. “Nothing. I’m sorry I pushed you, Mom. It was an accident, but if Mike’s not leaving, I am.”

  “We need to resolve this.” She put her hand on his arm.

  Jay didn’t pull away this time. “I have nothing else to say, Mom. I’m taking the bus to Boston and a train back to New York. I can’t stay here with him around.”

  Liz stroked the hair off his forehead. “I don’t want to choose between my son and my own happiness, or between both my children. This baby won’t replace you. And his father and Mike could never replace Dad.”

  “Mom, what happened to you? It’s like you’re a different woman! All these men, having this baby.”

  He’d drawn his line. She wasn’t crossing it. “Here’s your breakfast. I made oatmeal with brown sugar and milk. And French roast. When you’re done, I’ll drive you to the bus station.”

  When she got to the living room, Mae was vacuuming while Mike collected leftover glasses and dishes tucked in all sorts of odd places. Liz went into the kitchen and started seasoning the turkey before putting it in the oven. Mae and Mike followed but didn’t have time to ask anything before Jay came down carrying the tray.

  “Well, look at all the happy faces here, will ya!” Mae said. “Last time I checked ‘twas Christmas. Didn’t Santa come last night? I know it hasn’t been a good year fer some of us. But there are some things ya can’t change.

  “I fer one, am thankful to the Good Lord for my new friends, and a good job, and a beautiful place to live. And next year, God willin,’ I’ll be here to see the wee one playin’ with the wrappins.’ I suggest we all try to move forward, because goin’ backwards isn’t productive.” Mae hugged Liz, patted Jay and Mike on their shoulders, and started peeling potatoes.

  Jay picked up his backpack and put on his coat. “I’ll take the nine-thirty bus to Boston, and then a train to New York.”

  Mae dried her hands and stared at Jay like she intended to peel the skin off him next. “I’ll drive ya to the station.”

  “That’s okay, I’ll call a cab.”

  “I said I’ll drive ya to the bus.” She herded Jay out using her right pointer as a cattle prod at his back.

  Mike put his arms around Liz. “I’m the cause of this.”

  “No you’re not. Every time I try to do something that’s right for me, someone gets hurt. I broke up with you to smooth over the situation with Jay. I thought once the hearing was over, he’d accept the inevitable.” She cried on his shoulder. Elisabeth’s karma seemed to have followed her into this life.

  “I’m certainly no one to give advice on how to handle kids, Liz. I should have just left.”

  “But then he would have gotten his way again and you and I would be miserable.” The feeling of his arms around her was so comforting, she was tempted to chuck all the plans and go back to Mike’s house for breakfast in bed.

  Kevin came through the front door like he was being chased. “Look out. Here she comes.”

  Mike and Liz moved apart.

  Mae fussed outside on the porch. “Fer goodness sake. How come I’m the one givin’ away everyone’s gifts? You bought them fer her, you give them to her.” She clomped into the house and straight past Liz into the kitchen without saying a word.

  Jay came inside carrying two shopping bags, the color of his cheeks a shade darker than his pink shirt. The expression on his face was a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “Mae refused to give these to you, and now I’ll never make the bus.”

  Mae was a formidable opponent. Who knew what she’d really told Jay?

  “Then stay, have dinner and open presents with us, like we planned. I want you here.”

  Jay glared at Mike, put the gifts under the tree, and went back upstairs. She heard the door to her room close behind him. Please, Gerry. Help smooth things over.

  Crystal and china sparkled under the jewel-toned chandelier. Fresh holly boughs with red and green tapers filled the center of the table. Holiday music played on the sound system Jay had installed the day before the war started.

  “Everything is delicious.” Kevin wiped his chin on a linen napkin.

  “I can’t wait to taste those pies.” Mike had been trying to stay upbeat all day, despite the unsettling events of the morning.

  The tinkling of glasses and utensils was the only response.

  Liz lit aromatherapy candles, choosin
g the ones for peace and tranquility, hoping fervently they’d work. “Let’s sit by the living room fire to open presents.”

  They plunked into seats as happy as kids on the first day of school. Liz took the gifts from under the tree and handed them out. She’d bought a fishing pole and reel for the inn and had wrapped it for Mike early that morning, before the explosion. He deserved the first gift for putting up with this all day.

  “Wow, this is a beauty. Perfect for striped bass and bluefish.” He ran his hands over the rod and played with the locking mechanism on the reel.

  The enthusiasm seemed genuine. Liz started to ask if he had ever retrieved the pole he left behind on the beach day he’d found her but decided not to open that box of bait.

  “Canyon Ranch! Kevin, we’re going to Canyon Ranch in the Berkshires for a spa weekend!” Mae grabbed Liz and hugged her.

  “Is that one of those places where they’ve got horses and country entertainment?” Kevin asked.

  Even Jay smiled.

  Liz appreciated the genuine comic relief. “No, that’s a dude ranch. Canyon Ranch is a fancy spa where all the celebrities go. Massages, yoga, meditation. You guys have earned a rest, and can pick whatever time of year you want.” Liz suspected Kevin would have preferred a dude ranch, but Mae was already studying the list of spa services.

  She piled eight boxes in front of Jay. He looked surprised, then fidgeted.

  “Hanukkah gifts, one for each of eight nights,” she explained to the others. “It began on December eleventh, but this is what we always used to do, celebrate both holidays together.” Her explanation of the plethora of loot for the troublemaker sufficed.

  The others sat politely watching while he opened the assortment of video games, books, designer tee shirts, and gourmet chocolates.

  “I hope you like what I got you, Mom. I went to this store, and they helped me pick them out.” Jay unpacked a load of boxes on the floor in front of her.

  Mike started to move away, but Liz put her hand on his leg to stop him. “Move over, Mike. Squeeze in here, Jay.”

  Her son obliged and slid into the seat next to her.

  Liz opened the biggest one first and held a blue nightgown and bathrobe set up against herself to show them off.

  “It’s for when the baby comes.” Jay blushed. “Vents for nursing, or something like that. Open the others.”

  The other boxes contained a rattle, towel and bathrobe set, baby pajamas, and little boy’s outfits. As she burrowed through the tissue paper in each box, Liz’s heart softened.

  “I got one three months, one six months, and this one is twelve months. It’s my favorite. The lady said babies walk when they’re a year old, so that should be perfect.” Jay picked up a miniature Red Sox uniform and cap. “And this goes with it.”

  Tears had already welled up in Liz’s eyes at the care and attention Jay had put into his gifts. When she opened the last box, which contained a tiny baseball glove, they burst forth.

  “I’m going to teach him to play, Mom. You’re never too young to learn to play baseball.”

  “These are such wonderful gifts.” Liz sobbed, sitting between her son and her lover, tired of mediating, compromising, and trying to explain the unexplainable.

  “If you want to exchange anything, Mom, it’s okay. I don’t know anything about buying stuff for babies.”

  “Jay,” Mae said, “pregnant women get very emotional.”

  “You’ve made me very happy.” Liz picked up the Red Sox outfit and started to cry again.

  Jay’s brow furrowed. “Happy?”

  Mike patted Liz’s shoulder and broke his silence. “You’re right, Jay. You’re never too young to learn to play baseball. Between the two of us, the little guy will be a real slugger. I’ll make sure to play with him when you’re not around. I promise that I’m going to be here—for both of them.”

  Liz wanted to hug them both, but didn’t dare lean to one over the other and disturb the uneasy balance.

  Kevin busied himself tending to the fireplaces. Mae cleaned up. Liz went upstairs to fix her smeared makeup. Mike decided not to push his luck and alternated between helping Mae and stacking wood with Kevin. Jay packed the presents up and piled them neatly under the tree. By the time Liz came down, the living room and kitchen were in order. The clock cuckooed five times.

  “Well, we best be goin’ now,” Kevin helped Mae on with her coat, shook hands with Jay and Mike, and kissed Liz.

  “Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah. Jay, we’ll be seein’ ya soon. Have a good trip home tomorrow.” Mae’s demeanor had softened considerably after whatever battle they’d had in the car. She patted him on the back.

  Jay kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Mae.”

  The Fitzgerald’s headed for the back door.

  “Go out the front,” said Liz.

  “Nonsense, my grandma always said those who came and went through the back door walked straight into yer heart.” Kevin led Mae through the kitchen.

  The irony of the comment wasn’t lost on Jay. He glanced at Mike, and then down.

  Mike got his coat. Jay went upstairs, without acknowledgement.

  Liz joined him by the front door. “I have to take him to Boston tomorrow. I’ll be back by late afternoon.”

  Mike gave her a long hug and kiss. She smelled like the aromatherapy candles burning all day—a cloying floral essence. But peace and tranquility they had wrought. “I’d ride with you for company, but you and Jay need some time alone. Why don’t you come up to New Hampshire with me later in the week? Allison would love to meet you.”

  “Mike, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We both need to attend to our family issues. I’ll miss you though.” She kissed his neck and massaged his back.

  He couldn’t bear to move out of her arms, away from her touch and the feel of her heartbeat against his chest. “I guess you’re right, but my situation is a lot different than yours. And you deserve some special attention. I hate to leave you alone for New Year’s.”

  “Kevin and Mae are around, and I have a lot of things to do after the party and holiday rush.”

  “I enjoyed being part of a family celebration again,” Mike said, “even if it is a nontraditional one.”

  “Oh sure, even if you had to fight off my son.”

  “I’m happy to have something to fight for, Liz. Don’t forget, I owe you breakfast in bed.”

  “Mmm, yes, sounds delicious.” She rested her cheek against his.

  Mike kissed her again and tried to keep his hands in one place on her back. If Jay came down and saw them making out, there would be another scene. “I really hate to go.”

  He took his fishing pole and coat and left her standing in the open doorway. Walking back to his cold, empty house, he recalled being Mike Keeny, the lonely fisherman. Now he was some guy who took a pregnant woman who wasn’t his wife to bed, and had no regrets. The Mike always getting in between the guys in the bar when they scuffled was gone. This one would have beaten her son up if the stuck up brat hadn’t backed down.

  He didn’t go to church on Christmas for the first time in his life, but he’d dodged the first lightning strike from the Almighty. Mike put his new fishing pole under the tree and left the toss pillows where they had fallen last night before they went upstairs. He remembered the intense desire in her eyes and fingertips with a delightful tingle.

  Liz had even turned the finished edges of the sheets down over the comforter, real pretty, just like Mary used to. The pillows were fluffed and stacked, his bathrobe neatly draped over the bed. Last night a woman came back into his life, and even though she wasn’t here now, the feminine presence lingered. And he was more of a man than he had been for a long time.

  Chapter 38

  February 14, 2010

  Brewster, Ma
ssachusetts

  Mike entered the midwife’s office with Liz, sat down with all the other couples, read a magazine with a naked belly on the cover, and waited. Everyone there, with the exception of the receptionist, was half his age.

  Liz was for sure the oldest pregnant woman in the room, but she looked damn good in her designer maternity clothes. The red sweater dipped low enough to show off her generous cleavage, and the waistband of her pants rested just below her ripening tummy. She might be eight months pregnant, but the sight of her rounded rear still got him to stand at attention.

  Liz moved like a ballerina in ruby-red flats, her head high, confident and relaxed, past the eyebrows raised at two grandparents having their own baby.

  Inside the exam room, with the poster on the wall of a baby floating upside down in blue water, the midwife, Michelle, assumed he was the father. Liz didn’t say anything to correct that, and it didn’t matter anyway. He planned to be there when the baby was born, and for all intents and purposes, would be.

  Michelle looked somewhere south of forty, wasn’t wearing Birkenstocks and a headscarf, and seemed confident and knowledgeable. Mike did all the fatherly things: helped measure Liz’s belly and asked questions about the birth plans, particularly emergency procedures.

  Driving her Bimmer back from Cotuit to Brewster was a nice change from piloting a broken down Ford pick-up. Leather seats, a luxury sound system with cool jazz playing, the hum of the engine, and the smooth ride accentuated the heady experience of entering a world usually reserved for the twenty-to-thirty-year-old set. He glanced at the hot mama next to him while they waited at a light and suppressed a laugh at the thought of a fisherman like him landing a catch like her.