by Sophie Love
That only left one person. It was time, Emily realized.
She scrolled through her contacts and stopped at Patricia’s number. Then she hit dial.
Patricia answered in her typically dry way, as if the sight of her only living daughter calling her roused no emotion in her whatsoever.
“I wondered when I’d hear from you,” she said.
“You can always call me, Mom,” Emily reminded her.
Already their call had gotten off on the wrong foot.
“Mom, I don’t want to bicker,” Emily said. “Please. I have some news.”
“You’re pregnant,” Patricia replied.
Emily faltered. Had she guessed or had someone told her? Jayne could be a blabbermouth but surely she hadn’t let that slip.
“Yes,” Emily replied, sounding a little shell-shocked. “How did you know?”
“It’s inevitable,” Patricia replied. “I’m just glad you waited until you were married. So, when’s it due?”
Her mom’s tone riled Emily. She sounded so unenthusiastic, and referring to the baby as it felt even worse.
“Early December,” she told her.
“Great,” Patricia scoffed. “More gifts to get during the holiday period.”
Her words stung Emily. “Is that all you have to say?” she challenged her mom. “No congratulations? Aren’t you excited to become a grandmother?”
“Yes, yes,” Patricia replied impatiently. “Congratulations. The miracle of life. All that. So it’s healthy? You’ve had all your tests? You do know older mothers are more susceptible to babies with genetic abnormalities, don’t you? I did tell you to have them sooner but you insisted on leaving it.”
It was literally the last thing Emily wanted to hear from her mom. She was already stressing about the blood test results. Speaking to her mom had just worried her more.
She ended the call, feeling on the verge of breaking down. Just then, Daniel came in. He looked exhausted as he sat on the couch next to her, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.
“What a day…” he muttered.
“I just told my mom about the baby,” Emily told him. She tucked her feet beneath her, wanting to become as small as possible.
Daniel opened his weary eyes and peered at her. “It didn’t go well, I take it.”
Emily shook her head, and now her tears came. She felt arms wrap around her, Daniel from the side and Chantelle from behind. Their comfort made her cry even more.
“It’s okay, Mommy,” Chantelle said soothingly.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
“Come on,” Daniel said. “Let’s head up to bed. Mommy needs some rest.”
They all went upstairs, Emily still weeping profusely. Chantelle hugged her tightly before retiring to her room. Daniel led her into the master bedroom and sat her onto the bed. He sat beside her.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked tenderly.
“What’s right?” Emily wept bitterly into her hands. “My mom can’t even pretend to be happy for me. Chantelle’s still acting out. She wandered off today and I couldn’t find her. I was so stressed I had a flashback, the most horrible one, of when Dad was trying to revive Charlotte.” She gazed up at Daniel, her features etched with pain. “And Dad… Dad…” She couldn’t speak anymore.
“Emily…” Daniel said softly, encouraging her on.
“He’s dying, Daniel,” she told him. “He has cancer. A year at the most to live.”
Daniel’s features fell, his expression turning from tired and exhausted to devastated.
“When did you find out?” he asked.
“In England, just before we left.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Emily frowned at him. Was that all he had to say on the matter? “I didn’t want to ruin your holiday. And I’d only just found out myself. I was still processing it.”
Daniel ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was despairing. “That’s not the sort of thing you should keep to yourself,” he stammered. “We’re a team, Emily. We’re supposed to do things together, tell each other everything.”
“We’re a team?” she snapped. “Since when? All you ever want to do is fix up the house!”
Daniel’s face snapped toward her, his features now showing fury. “For you. For us. For our family. You make it sound like I’m doing it to avoid you or something!”
“Sometimes it feels like you are,” Emily replied. She knew she was lashing out, but her emotions had gotten the better of her. “Sometimes it feels like you don’t even want this baby at all.”
“How can you say that?” Daniel exclaimed, exasperated.
“You don’t do anything to show you’re excited! You were nice when I was sick at first but now you’re just bored of comforting me.” Emily could hear her own paranoid accusations and cringed. Her hormones must be playing some part in this sudden outpouring of anger and rage.
“That’s unfair,” Daniel told her.
She glared at him. “Is it? Then look me in the eye and tell me you’re excited about the baby. That it’s your dream come true like it is mine.”
“I’m not playing your games,” Daniel said, standing, shaking with rage.
He stormed out of the room.
Emily stared at his retreating figure, mouth agape.
He had given her nothing, not even an unsatisfactory answer, just silence.
And it only made her feel worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
When Emily awoke the next day, Daniel had already left for work. She sighed, disappointed.
Checking her phone, she saw she’d received a text late last night from Amy. She’d organized a surprise baby shower for midday that day. It was the last thing that Emily felt like doing.
She got out of bed and went to wake Chantelle, then the two of them headed downstairs for breakfast. For the first time in a long time, the inn was quiet.
“Amy’s planned a surprise party for me today,” Emily told Chantelle as she made her cereal. She came over and put it on the table.
“Why?” Chantelle asked. “It’s not your birthday, is it?”
Emily shook her head. “It’s called a baby shower. When a woman is pregnant her friends and family throw a party with food and games and gifts for the baby.”
Chantelle looked disgusted by the prospect. “So the baby gets a party before it’s even born?” she stated, looking unimpressed.
Emily felt her mood sink even further. Chantelle’s jealousy was not something she had the reserves to deal with right now.
“Should I take that to mean you don’t want to come?” Emily asked.
Chantelle folded her arms. “I don’t want to come.”
“But you love a party.”
Chantelle looked away, busying herself with her cereal.
“Fine,” Emily muttered. She’d have to organize a sitter. But surely all her friends would be at the party? Who’d be available to look after Chantelle? Leaving her with Lois was definitely off the cards.
She texted Amy. Bit of a problem. Chantelle doesn’t want to come. She’s jealous of the baby. But I don’t know who is available to look after her.
Amy’s reply came quickly after. Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.
Emily put her phone away and ate her plain toast. She skipped out on a warm drink this morning, instead having water, wanting her breakfast to be as bland as possible as per Doctor Arkwright’s advice.
Emily’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. It was from Amy.
Okay, Chantelle is taken care of. There’ll be someone round to collect her in an hour.
How mysterious, Emily thought. She wondered what Amy had planned.
Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang and Emily got up to answer it. To her surprise, a lady was standing there in a full-blown princess outfit, looking like she’d stepped off the pages of a fantasy story.
“Hi, I’m Princess Esmeralda Featherton,” she announced. “I’m here to take Chante
lle Morey on her magical adventure day.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Um… did Amy book you?”
The lady smiled and dropped the princess act. “Yeah, I’m mainly a party entertainer but I also do adventure days out. It’s usually for sick kids and stressed parents. Which one are you?”
Emily pointed at the dark bags under her eyes. “Can’t you guess?”
She laughed. Trust Amy to come up with such a creative solution to the problem!
“So what magical things do you have planned for Chantelle then?” Emily asked.
“Well, we’ll take the magic pumpkin down to the beach,” Princess Esmeralda began, jerking her thumb behind her to where Emily saw, with surprise, a Cinderella carriage attached to the back of two white horses. “There’s a picnic table there with tea, sandwiches, and cakes. We’ll have a little tea party, get our nails painted and our hair done. Sound good?”
“It sounds marvelous,” Emily replied. She turned and called over her shoulder. “Hey, Chantelle, I think there’s someone here to see you.”
The woman transformed her expression back into the airy-fairy princess one she’d had when Emily first answered the door. Chantelle appeared at the end of the corridor, looking suspicious. She walked slowly toward them. With each step, her face seemed to light up more and more.
“I’m Princess Esmeralda Featherton,” the lady said, curtseying. “You must be Princess Chantelle.” She gestured behind her. “Your carriage awaits.”
Chantelle’s eyes bulged at the sight of the pumpkin and horses. She looked up at Emily, shocked. “Is this for me?”
Emily nodded, amused by the whole charade, and encouraged Chantelle out the door.
“I’ll drop her back in the afternoon,” Princess Esmeralda said with a wink. Then to Chantelle, she added, “Your cape, gloves, and crown are in the carriage. Hurry, we can’t be late for our tea party.”
Emily laughed as she watched Chantelle hop into the carriage. Then off they went, the horses clip-clopping down the driveway. It was the strangest sight she’d ever seen.
She texted Amy. You’re crazy. But also a genius.
Then she headed off to her baby shower, in better spirits than she’d felt in days.
*
Emily drove to Karen’s bakery where the baby shower was to be held. When she walked in, she was surprised to see the whole place had been decorated in beautiful white and pink ribbons. Karen had laid out the entire table with cakes and sandwiches, though Emily wasn’t sure whether her delicate stomach would be able to handle any of them.
Sitting around the table, smiling at her brightly, were Yvonne, Amy, Suzanna—who seemed to already have miraculously returned to her pre-pregnancy shape—Sunita, and, of course, Karen.
“Guys,” Emily said, breathlessly, shocked and elated by the effort they’d put in for her.
“Sit down, sit down,” Karen instructed her.
Emily’s friends took it in turn to hand her gifts. She opened them each. A bottle sterilizer from Yvonne. A set of baby onesies from Karen. Sunita had gifted her a beautiful nightlight that played white noise and projected images of stars onto the ceiling. She received a bathtub donut in the shape of a sunflower from Suzanna, and finally, from Amy, a voucher for a ridiculously expensive-looking baby photographer in Maine.
“This is so wonderful,” Emily said, overwhelmed by their gratitude.
They jumped into the food and drinks, and Amy quizzed Emily over how everything was going with the pregnancy.
“It’s not too bad,” Emily said. “The nausea is the worst. And all the tests are making me anxious.”
“What kind of tests?” Amy asked.
“Well, the other day I had to have four vials of blood taken,” Emily said, showing her the small bruise still visible in the crook of her elbow. “It’s the genetic abnormalities test.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she remembered her mother’s voice, remembered the anxiety it had further instilled in her. And she remembered the way Daniel had seemed entirely uninterested.
“Em…” Amy said, touching her hand gently. “What’s wrong?”
Before she even had time to think, Emily burst into tears. She dropped her head into her arms on the table.
“Babe, you can talk to me,” Amy assured her, her arm slung around Emily’s shoulder. “I’m here for you.”
But it was too much. Emily couldn’t speak about her fears. She stood. “I’m sorry, I have to go now,” she said.
Amy stood too. “Em, don’t go like this.”
Everyone looked at Emily with expressions of concern. Embarrassed, Emily hurried out of the store. She walked quickly to her car and got inside, breathing deeply, feeling panicked. She desperately wanted to speak to her dad. It would be seven a.m. in England. He’d have been up and awake since five, watering the garden, so she dialed his new number.
He answered the call after several minutes of ringing.
“Sorry, darling, I couldn’t find the right button to push. How are you?”
“Dad…” Emily whimpered, then she broke down again in sobs.
“Oh, darling,” Roy replied. His voice was calmer and kinder than ever. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Emily hadn’t wanted to burden him, especially with what he was going through, but she needed him right now. Him and only him. Her father could console her in ways Patricia never could, or Daniel or Amy for that matter. Roy alone had a unique ability to put her fears to rest. How was she going to cope when he was gone?
“It’s everything,” she stammered. “I’m worried about the baby, and having to have so many tests doesn’t help with my anxiety. Daniel is so focused on work it’s like he’s not even here. I can’t even tell if he wants the baby. We had a huge fight last night. It was horrible. I’m trying to slow down and reduce my stress but the inn seems to fall apart whenever I’m not there to keep an eye on it. Lois has been great but I need someone to replace Serena because she’s never available. I think she’s mad at me after Chantelle’s meltdown but she’s never around to talk it through. And Chantelle is just a nightmare at the moment. I know you think she’s the sweetest kid in the world, and she mostly is, but God can that girl tantrum.”
Emily spoke quickly, all her words tumbling out of her, all her fears spilling as quickly as her tears. Roy listened patiently, just as she’d needed someone to do all along.
“And, Dad, you’re going to leave me!” she wailed. “Again! I thought I was going to be okay but now I feel terrified about it. I had a flashback, to Charlotte after she’d died.” She stumbled over the words. She and her father didn’t talk that openly or often about Charlotte’s death. “I remembered you telling me it was okay. She was dead and you knew nothing was going to bring her back but somehow you still had the strength to comfort me, to put me first. I don’t know how you did it. How am I going to cope without you?”
Once she was done offloading, he finally spoke.
“Emily Jane, you are a strong woman,” he began. “I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
“I don’t feel very strong right now, crying in my car!”
“Who ever told you crying is a sign of weakness?” Roy challenged her. “Expressing your feelings is the most important thing you can do for your health. That’s how I was able to do it, to always put you first, by shutting my emotions down. I’d always been taught not to feel, young men of my generation were. And what happened? I snapped. But not you, Emily Jane. You are strong enough to feel, to let yourself experience pain.”
“If it’s so good, why does it feel so crappy?” Emily said, weeping bitterly.
She heard Roy chuckle kind-heartedly over the phone. “Oh, my darling, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You’re remarkable. You already have the solution to your problem, you just need someone to reassure you it’s the right thing to do.”
“What solution?” Emily asked.
“Communication,” Roy replied. “You know you need to speak to Daniel about his behavior and feeli
ngs but you’re scared to do it because of a deep held insecurity that he wants to leave. An insecurity my leaving instilled in you.”
“No, Dad, don’t start this again. I’ve forgiven you, completely. I don’t want you to feel guilty about anything that happened in the past anymore.”
“I know,” he said. “And your ability to forgive is another thing that’s so remarkable about you. But I am not saying this for me, but for you, my treasure. You know that you avoid speaking to Daniel because you’re worried he’ll confirm whatever paranoia you have. But I think another part of you knows that he is committed to you, he loves you. You’re married, you’re a team. He’s not going anywhere.”
Emily listened, comforted by her father’s words. “You sound like a therapist,” she said.
“I’ve had many years of counseling,” he quipped. “And I also have life experience. Marriage is hard. Having kids is hard. There is a constant flux, an ebb and flow. But if you don’t communicate continually things won’t fix themselves. I regret all those times I shut Patricia out, shouted her down. I know you and your mother struggle to get along, but Emily Jane, I was the reason our marriage failed, I’m the reason she is the way she is.”
“Dad…” Emily warned.
“I’m not being self-pitying,” he interjected. “I’m speaking facts. If I’d been a better man, if I’d spoken and communicated and felt and cried when I needed to, things would have been completely different. You and Daniel aren’t like Patricia and I. You can do those things. You can work things out.”
Emily took a deep breath, bolstered by her father’s encouragement. Having him in her life at the moment was the most wonderful thing. Imagining him no longer being there was an agony she didn’t want to have to go through.
“Now, are you writing me letters?” Roy asked. “Because I’ve already written ten for you.”
“Ten?” Emily exclaimed. “But I haven’t received anything.”
