by Nancy Thayer
At home, Clare’s father was perking up. He was always shaved, clean, and dressed these days, he talked to Adam at dinner, he watched the Red Sox with Adam, and sometimes the two men went together to take Ralphie for her evening walk. Clare couldn’t figure out why her father was getting better. Was he relieved to have Jesse out of their lives? She’d always known her father wasn’t crazy about Jesse, and she could understand that. How could a parent trust a man who had made his daughter cry so many times? Or perhaps her father was happy because Clare was so obviously happy, and life seemed so positive, so forward-going. For whatever reason, she was grateful.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Along the southern coast of the continent, hurricanes began to brew, spinning their ghostly white whorls like mythical furies. Some days stiff breezes rose, sending papers skipping across the cobblestones and clattering rose branches against the walls. The stores were busy those days, when the sand blew into children’s eyes or stung against ankles. Chocolate sales went way up, as people flocked in to buy the comfort and tranquillity contained in chocolate’s chemicals.
Clare got to work early. There was so much to do. She was just lifting a tray of new Nantucket Nuggets into the display case and sliding the glass door shut, when the phone rang. She snatched it up with one hand as she opened the next display case with the other hand. “Sweet Hart’s.”
“Clare, it’s Lexi.”
“Oh, Lexi, I’m straight out busy.”
“I am, too. But I have to talk to you. Could you meet me at Moon Shell Beach tonight? After ten tonight?”
“Lexi—”
“Clare, this can’t wait.”
“All right, but why do we have to go all the way out to Moon Shell Beach? We’re grown-ups now. Let’s just have a drink.”
“You’ll know why when I tell you. I really need to tell you this at Moon Shell Beach.”
“Miss?” Two women stuck their heads in the door. “Are you open yet?”
“Fine,” Clare snapped. “Ten-fifteen.”
Clare arrived at the marsh to find Lexi’s Range Rover already parked on the side of the road. She found the entrance to the path and impatiently shoved her way through the thickets. She’d phoned Adam to tell him she couldn’t see him tonight, and she was tired and cranky, so she crashed along, smashing grasses and mosses beneath her sandals, and came out onto the beach to find Lexi already there, pacing on the sand.
Late-summer light, moonlight, and lights from all the boats in the harbor lit their beach in a cool blue glow. A breeze ruffled the waters and made the tide splash onto the sand.
Lexi’s white-blond hair was twisted high at the back of her head, held with a clip. She wore a short-sleeved white tee with a dramatically swirling peach and ivory skirt.
“Clare! Thank you for coming. It’s really good of you. I know you must be exhausted—”
“I am exhausted. You must be, too. So what’s up?”
Lexi looked anguished. She hugged herself, then flapped her hands in the helpless gesture Clare had seen all her life.
“Oh, stop it, Lexi!” Clare snapped impatiently.
“Clare, I’m pregnant!” Lexi snapped back.
Clare gawked. “What?”
“Just a month, but I had to tell you.”
“It’s Jesse’s?”
Lexi nodded.
A gull flew overhead, silent except for the flap of its wings.
“Well, damn, Lexi. Didn’t you use birth control?” Jesse had been a fanatic about birth control with Clare. She’d been on the Pill for years. That meant that Jesse was either so much in love with Lexi or so driven by uncontrollable passion that he hadn’t used a condom.
Lexi looked away, embarrassed. “Not the first time.”
That stung. As if trying to walk away from her emotions, Clare strode past Lexi down the small beach, until she was at the water’s edge. A cloud drifted over the moon. Shadows caught, then vanished. Clare tried to still her racing heart. She thought of Adam. That helped. She thought of Lexi, pregnant. Turning, she asked, “What are you going to do?”
Lexi’s voice was low. “Claire, listen. I got pregnant three times when I was married to Ed. And I had three miscarriages.”
Clare’s hand went to her heart. “Oh, Lexi. I’m sorry.”
“So I want to try to keep this baby, Clare.”
Jesse’s baby, Clare thought. Clare’s dream baby…in Lexi’s arms. A kind of panic struck her. “Lexi, you know what? I can’t do this.”
“Clare—”
“I’m sorry. I’m not in love with Jesse anymore, and I wish you well, but I just can’t—I can’t be here right now.” Abruptly, she turned back to the path.
“Clare!” Lexi followed. “Clare, please.”
Clare kept walking, and the sharp-edged grasses lashed her bare skin. She wanted to run.
Behind her, Lexi yelled, “Clare, stop. Clare, you are my best friend, you’ve always been my only best friend. I need you now.”
Clare stopped. She turned to look at Lexi.
Lexi stood with her hands on her waist. “Clare,” she said softly. “A baby.”
Clare remembered being a little girl with Lexi, carrying their dolls swaddled in blankets, solemnly discussing bottles and diapers as they held their babies close, patting their backs, rocking them. Clare thought of Penny’s baby, Mikey. The snuggling weight. The trusting eyes. The gleeful laugh. She felt tears well in her eyes.
“Gosh, Lexi, it will be so beautiful.”
Lexi’s mouth trembled. “You think?”
Stepping forward, Clare put her hand on Lexi’s belly. For a moment they both were very still, listening, waiting. Then Clare laughed. “Flat as a board, as always.”
Together they walked back to the beach and settled down on the sand, side by side, their arms wrapped around their knees, looking out at the water.
“Does Jesse know?” Clare asked.
“No, I haven’t told him yet. Haven’t told anyone but you. I want to wait at least another month. I mean, I’ve miscarried before in the first or second months.”
“Maybe it’s was Ed’s sperm causing the miscarriages,” Clare suggested.
“Oh, I hope so.” Lexi put her hands on the sand as she leaned back. “I don’t know what Jesse will do. I don’t even know what I want him to do.”
“He’s not Mr. Reliability.”
“I know. This might completely freak him out.”
“Or not. He might be in love with you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you in love with him?”
Lexi was quiet. “I’m attracted to him. He makes me laugh. They always say you should marry a man who makes you laugh.”
“Have you talked about marriage?”
“Ha. Are you kidding? Jesse has trouble committing to dinner.”
“He was always that way,” Clare said.
“So I know I can’t count on him,” Lexi mused. “But I’ve got my parents.”
Clare took a deep breath. “And you’ve got me.” She wrapped an arm around Lexi. “I can’t say it’s going to be easy for me, Lexi. I’ve wanted Jesse’s baby for years. A baby, a sweet little baby, with white-blond hair and blue eyes. And you’ve got it. No matter what else happens in my life, you’ll have Jesse’s baby. And I just don’t know how gracious I’m going to be able to be about it. So give me some time, okay?”
“We’ve got time,” Lexi said.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Some August days shone like pure gold. On those days the humidity lifted just a little, so that the sky was clearer, the air purer, and everyone was in a better mood. The merchants were swelling their bank accounts, foreseeing a pleasant, even lavish, winter ahead. They’d be able to take their families to Costa Rica for school vacation, perhaps even add that second bathroom. The institutions—the library, historical association, science museum—found their coffers filling as relaxed billionaires happily presented checks and started endowment funds in their names. Blue, red, and white
sails zipped across the horizon during the day, and at night the island’s restaurants were all booked, table after table of rested, tanned, happy patrons enjoying the ruby tomatoes from Moors End and Bartlett’s Farm, or the delicate perfection of rococo desserts.
As Labor Day grew closer, more women crowded into Moon Shell Beach, wanting to buy souvenirs of their summer, wanting to take some of the radiance of Lexi’s clothing home with them, like taking a suitcase full of glittering sun into the coming fall.
Lexi’s morning was too busy for thought. At noon, there was a lull. “Oksana, I’ve got to go to the bank. And I’ll bring back some lunch. Want anything?”
Oksana was in a cubicle, gathering clothing. She emerged, drawing aside the curtain. “Some noodles from Even Keel and an iced coffee. Thanks.”
As Lexi walked past the boat basin and up Main Street, she felt better, not so nauseous, and stronger. The sun on her shoulders relaxed her. She knew she looked great in her cocoa slip dress and beaded sandals. Could she trust her stomach to accept a nice big iced chocolate coffee? That might clear her brain. She might be able to think more than an hour into the future. She might be able to clear up her confusion about Jesse.
“Hi, Lexi,” Mimi called from the bookstore.
Smiling, Lexi waved back. She was home, after all. She’d been in worse places in her life, that was for sure. She could be optimistic.
Someone grabbed her shoulder—hard. Someone yanked her so that she spun sideways, nearly losing her balance.
“I need to talk to you.” Bonnie Frost stood there, looking strained. Stuffed into his little backpack, her son gnawed on his fist, grizzling and drooling, red-faced, rashy.
“Hi, Bonnie! Hi, baby!” Lexi put her finger up to stroke the baby, but Bonnie jerked away from her as if she were poison.
Bonnie’s face was dark with anger. “I thought I made it clear I want you to stop visiting Jewel on the pier!”
Lexi took a deep breath and tried to keep her tone placating. “Look, Bonnie. I’m not making her sit there. I’m not encouraging her. I’m just keeping Jewel company. She seems so lonely.”
“Don’t you dare tell me about my own child! You have no idea what is best for her. I’m her mother. I know what’s going on in her mind, and I’m worried sick!”
Bonnie didn’t seem to be aware that she was shouting. Passing shoppers stifled embarrassed grins and some just stopped on the sidewalk, frankly staring at the two women as if they were another of Nantucket’s entertainments.
“Bonnie, let’s sit down.” Lexi put her hand on the other woman’s arm, intending to lead her to one of the wooden benches.
Bonnie jerked herself away. “Take your hands off me! And listen. I’m not kidding! I’m going to go to court and get you served with a restraining order if you don’t stay away from Jewel.”
Lexi was appalled. “Bonnie, that’s way over the top! I’m not hurting Jewel.”
“You’re giving her hope that her father’s alive!”
“Well, maybe he is!” Lexi shot back. “Maybe he’s not conveniently dead just because you want him to be.”
Bonnie slapped Lexi hard on the face.
Lexi gasped. Her hand flew to her cheek as sudden tears sprang into her eyes.
“You have no right to judge me,” Bonnie hissed. “I’m trying to protect Jewel from getting her heart broken worse than it already is. You have no right to encourage her to hope for the impossible!”
Lexi was hyperaware now, as if she were both in her body and outside it, looking down at herself with her bright red cheek and Bonnie with her angry face and the sidewalk crammed with people gawking with concern and delight.
She was aware of Bonnie’s baby grabbing Bonnie’s hair and trying to get it in his mouth.
She was aware of her own baby, floating peacefully in her belly.
“Bonnie,” she said very quietly, “sometimes it’s okay to believe in the impossible. Sometimes miracles happen.”
“Don’t be such a fool,” Bonnie snapped. “Tris is dead, and I’m telling you once and for all, you crazy bitch, leave my daughter alone.” She strode away.
By late afternoon everyone in town had heard about Bonnie Frost slapping Lexi. People took sides, arguing over the phone, over drinks, over dinner. Some thought Lexi was meddling in matters she should leave alone. Others thought Bonnie had been neglecting Jewel ever since she started her affair with Ken Frost, and it was a good thing someone was paying attention to the child.
As Clare waited on customers and settled chocolates into their ruffled paper cups and rang up sales, she overheard people gossiping, but she didn’t join in. Lexi, it seemed to Clare, was not doing anything wrong. Jewel was a good kid, too precocious for her own good, and obviously an independent thinker, a bit of a loner—someone Clare and Lexi would have hung out with if they were all the same age. All Bonnie and Ken thought about was money, and more money. Clare sympathized with Jewel, and with Lexi.
Then she remembered that Lexi was pregnant with Jesse’s child and a lightning bolt of jealousy speared through her. Maybe the baby would be a little girl like Lexi. Or a boy who looked just like Jesse. She squeezed her eyes shut, warding off the pain. Not now. Not now. She had to work. Thank goodness for work.
THIRTY-NINE
This Sunday morning with its heavy fug of humidity had an almost Louisiana lethargy about it. The harbor was as still and flat as a sheet of glass and few boats had their sails up.
Lexi turned the air conditioners onto high. Heat made her drowsy, and the cool dryness seemed to alleviate the worst of the nausea. She’d thrown up that morning, and now her stomach growled hungrily.
She strolled around the shop, straightening and double checking her inventory. A frantic customer rushed in and bought ten small boxes for party favors. A man came in to buy a necklace his girlfriend had admired, and while Lexi wrapped it in a gift box, five women off a tour boat clustered in, chattering and bumping into the display cases, lifting shawls and skirts and letting them fall. Lexi glanced at her watch. Where was Oksana?
Finally all the customers were gone. Lexi wondered if she had time to rush upstairs to grab a peach.
The door opened.
“Busy morning?” Lexi’s mother came in. Myrna looked good these days, tanned and rested and cute in white clam diggers and a striped top.
“Pretty busy. And Oksana hasn’t shown up yet. And I’m starving.”
“Well, you’ll be glad I came in.” Myrna lifted a thermos and a box from her woven basket. “Iced tiramisu coffee and some homemade blueberry muffins. Thought you could use a little picker-upper.”
“Gosh, Mom, thanks!” Lexi grabbed a muffin and munched ravenously. How cool it was, having her mother here like this. She wanted to tell her mother she was pregnant, but not yet. And not here, where a customer could walk in. “Delicious.”
“Good.” Myrna looked around the shop. “I remember when Dad and I ran our store, our summer help was usually college kids. They always partied too hard on Saturday nights and showed up late on Sundays or came in with hangovers.”
“Oksana’s not like that.” Lexi drank the iced coffee carefully. Her stomach seemed ready to accept it. “She’s never done this before. I hope she’s not sick.”
The store phone rang.
“That’s probably her right now,” Myrna said.
“Moon Shell Beach, Lexi speaking.”
“Hi, Lexi,” a man growled. “Clyde Thompson here. Have you seen Jesse?”
“No…”
“He didn’t show up for work today. I’m shorthanded as it is.”
Last night Jesse had stayed at his parents’ house, claiming exhaustion, but this was more information than Clyde Thompson needed. “Look, I’ll phone you if I hear from him—” All at once Lexi’s heart thudded. “Oh, Clyde.” She dropped the phone, reaching for the stability of the countertop.
“What’s wrong?” Myrna grabbed up the phone. “Hello? This is Myrna Laney. Can I help you?”
&nbs
p; “Hi, Myrna, it’s Clyde Thompson. I’m looking for Jesse. He didn’t show up for work today.”
“I see.” Myrna studied Lexi’s face.
“Is there something going on I should know about?” the contractor demanded.
“I don’t know, Clyde.”
Lexi raised her head. “Just tell him I’ll call him back as soon as I know anything.”
FORTY
Lexi thought she might faint. She swallowed bile, steadying herself against the counter.
Her throat was dry when she said, “Mom, will you watch the shop? I’m going up to the pharmacy—the one where the Russian women work. They might know something about Oksana.”
“Of course,” Myrna said. “Go ahead. Take your time. I’ll be fine.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She hurried into the heart of the town, tripping over cobblestones and bricks, stumbling like someone lost. She didn’t feel the shade from the green arch of the trees above her. She didn’t see the fabulous merchandise in all the shop windows she passed. Her mind would not articulate her fears; instead it played a frantic loop that had her muttering as she walked.
“He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t just go without a word…”
Occasionally a tourist would glance at her quizzically, but she didn’t care, she was caught up in the pounding of her heart and the thudding of her sandals against the pavement, they were like drum rolls, and she burst into the pharmacy like a mother throwing open the door to a room where her kid sat smoking pot.
Several people were at the counter having coffee and chatting. Behind the counter was the lovely, tall, blond Sophia, adding whipped cream to a hot fudge sundae. Lexi was trembling as she approached the counter.
Sophia wiped her hands on the apron around her waist. “May I help you?”
