“No, she’s not,” Mila insisted. “There are much more important things in the world than silly parties.”
“I think we should call Oliver,” Camilla said. “What do you think, Ames?”
Amelia clenched her eyes shut. “He’s away this weekend on business.”
“Ah. That’s okay, isn’t it?” Camilla said brightly. “We don’t need him, anyway.”
“Maybe just text him,” Amelia said. She squeezed Mila’s hand so hard then that Mila thought her bones might break.
“Yeah. We’ll text him,” Mila said hurriedly. She grabbed her phone and sent off a message — a simple one: Hey! Amelia isn’t feeling that well. We’re taking her to the hospital for a check-up. We’ll let you know how it goes.
When the sirens blared outside, Amelia scrunched her nose. “Olivia is going to freak out.”
“No, she’s not,” Mila insisted again. “Plus, you know what makes any opening night better?”
“What?” Amelia demanded.
“A bit of drama, of course,” Mila insisted. “And there’s nothing more dramatic than an ambulance coming to take some beautiful woman away.”
Camilla rushed down, only to lead the EMT workers back to Amelia. Amelia gave them a little wave, then winced with pain. As gently as possible, they eased her onto the stretcher and then carried her down the winding staircase. Mila walked down behind her, anxiety filling her, but trying to make sure her face didn’t give it away. At the bottom of the staircase, Olivia stood with her hands clenched together. Dinner wasn’t even onto its second course yet, and already, the evening had gone toward disaster.
“What the heck?” Olivia hissed toward Mila as the EMT workers cut out into the evening air.
“She passed out,” Mila explained darkly. “And she’s experiencing abdominal pain.”
Olivia’s eyes grew shadowed. “The baby.”
“Nobody wants to say it,” Mila said. Now that she didn’t peer down at Amelia’s face, her heart fully acknowledged the panic of the situation. Amelia’s pregnancy had been an overwhelming shock, a colossal joy.
Now — if it didn’t happen — if her greatest happiness was taken away from her...
Mila wasn’t sure what Amelia would do.
“I want to come,” Olivia said. Her chin quivered as her eyes filled with tears.
Mila wrapped her arms around Olivia and held her tight. “We’ll take care of her and text you every step of the way, okay?”
Olivia nodded against Mila’s shoulder. Another sob escaped her throat.
“Seriously. This is a big night for you,” Mila said as she stepped back.
“But I’ll always love Amelia more than I love this stupid hotel,” Olivia breathed.
“She knows that. But she also wouldn’t want you to mess up the night for a little check-up,” Mila said.
“Text me with every detail,” Olivia said pointedly. “If I learn you left anything out—”
“You have full permission to kill me,” Mila said with a smile. She then leaned forward and kissed Olivia on the cheek. “Good luck tonight. You’ve worked so hard to get here. You deserve to enjoy it.”
Chapter Ten
Mila sat in the waiting room at the hospital and tore apart the napkin she’d gotten from the coffee kiosk. The white fluff of it scattered across her lap. Nobody had come out to explain Amelia’s situation yet. It seemed more than enough time had passed since they had wheeled her behind the double doors. Mila turned to look at Camilla, wide-eyed. So far, Camilla had bustled beyond the double doors twice to pester her colleagues about Amelia’s well-being — but to no avail.
“Fine. I’ll go again,” Camilla said. “But they aren’t pleased with me. Amelia isn’t their only patient.”
“She’s their only patient, as far as I’m concerned,” Mila replied with annoyance.
Jennifer bustled into the waiting room a few minutes later. She stomped up to Mila, who remained alone as Camilla investigated, and demanded, “Do we know anything yet?”
Mila shook her head. “I don’t know what’s taking so long.”
Jennifer collapsed in the chair beside her. Hurriedly, she collected the small pieces of napkin from Mila’s lap and then flung them into the wastebasket beside her. “I should have told Amelia to take it easy tonight. I saw her rushing around the way she was, and I thought—”
“I thought the same thing,” Mila said. “But Amelia isn’t the kind of person you tell to sit down. She always pushes herself too hard. It’s just her way.”
There was nothing else to be said. Dread permeated the air. Jennifer tried to say something about the “success” of the evening at The Hesson House, but she lost her train of thought, and the two fell into silence again. Finally, Camilla appeared in the waiting room; her cheeks were bright pink, as though she’d spent her time rushing through the hallways, tracking down information.
“I finally spoke to her doctor,” Camilla said. She gasped and clutched her knees.
“And?” Mila demanded.
“Sounds like she’ll be cleared to go home soon,” Camilla affirmed, still speaking toward the ground. “But unfortunately, it sounds like she’ll be on bed rest for the foreseeable future.”
“Oh no.” Mila and Jennifer said it in unison as they exchanged glances.
“I know,” Camilla affirmed. “If there’s anyone on the planet who won’t take well to bedrest...”
“It’s Amelia,” Mila finished.
An hour later, Camilla wheeled Amelia out in a wheelchair. She looked terribly tired and meek, somehow ten pounds thinner than she’d been earlier that day (in sight alone), wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She shivered as she looked up at Mila and Jennifer.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” she said. “I’ve never felt so weak before.”
“Your baby has already started her non-stop demands,” Mila joked. “It’ll be like this forever, so get used to it.”
Amelia’s lips curved upward. She splayed a hand over her stomach and said, “I’m just glad the baby is okay. When I was lying there on the floor of the hallway—I just thought the worst possible thoughts.”
Mila squatted down and took Amelia’s hand in hers. Amelia’s eyes shone with tears. “None of that happened, okay? So just take all those thoughts out of your mind. We live here, in the place where good things happen.”
“In the place where good things happen,” Amelia repeated.
“And will continue to happen,” Mila breathed.
Camilla wheeled Amelia all the way out to the parking lot, where Mila helped Amelia into Camilla’s car. They then loaded the wheelchair into the back and discussed what to do next. It was decided they would all head back to Amelia’s house for the time being; they couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her alone.
Peases Point Way held Amelia’s little house, the space where she’d lived alone for the previous decades. Over the years, Mila had caught herself being a tiny bit jealous of Amelia’s life but only at opportune times. For example, when her twins had been particularly heinous during their toddler years, she had caught herself dreaming about returning to Peases Point Way, a space of solitude and wine and zero-sticky-surfaces.
But of course, one glance toward Peter and Zane and Isabelle, and Mila had always been reminded of how much love she had — love that Amelia couldn’t count as her own. And she had been overwhelmed with guilt.
They propped Amelia up in bed, with a big TV situated on the far end of the room. Jennifer stuffed four pillows behind Amelia, and Mila busied herself with the TV. In a moment, When Harry Met Sally flashed up on the screen — one of Amelia’s favorites, Amelia cooed with delight.
“Is this what bed rest is all about? People dote on you, hand and foot, and put on your favorite movies?” she asked.
“I think that’s basically the gist of it,” Mila said with a laugh.
Jennifer disappeared and then reappeared a minute later with a bottle of wine, some apple juice for Amelia, four wine gla
sses, a bag of popcorn, and a sleeve of Fig Newtons.
“Wow. Is this fine dining, or what?” Camilla teased.
“Seriously. Zach Walters has nothing on you,” Mila said.
Jennifer rolled her eyes as she positioned everything out on a large tray. The girls gathered around it as she popped the cork from the wine bottle and poured. As they waited, Olivia texted for the twelfth time in five minutes — demanding information.
OLIVIA: So you’re back at Amelia’s place?
OLIVIA: Can you send me a picture of her, please?
OLIVIA: I just want to make sure she’s okay!
“Olivia is freaking out,” Amelia said as she flashed her own phone around to show them.
“She won’t stop texting me privately,” Mila said. “She must be hiding away in a closet as the night goes on.”
“Poor girl,” Amelia said. “I know what it’s like to plan for these big nights and then have everything go wrong. I just can’t believe I was the source of that wrong-ness.”
“No way. Almost everything went off without a hitch,” Jennifer insisted. “I heard some of the guests talking about the hotel and comparing it to another in Manhattan, but with better views, obviously. I think that little place will enjoy a lot of success.”
Amelia dropped her head back deeper into a pillow so that her beautiful hair splayed around her. Mila was speechless suddenly. She could imagine it fully for the first time. Soon, very soon, a little baby would look at Amelia with all the love Isabelle and Zane had given Mila. The thought of it filled her eyes with tears.
Amelia’s eyes fluttered open again. “Why are you crying?”
Mila swept a tear to the side and shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just tired.”
Amelia laughed. “You know, all of this was my way of getting you alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“We finally have you here to tell us the story about how your date went the other night,” Amelia said. “You know, Graham, from the app.”
Mila dropped her head back and groaned. “Amelia. You set up one of the wildest disasters of my life.”
Amelia cackled. “I guess it’s just been a failure of a week for me. Remember when I used to do everything perfectly? What happened to those days? Just this year, I’ve had a one-night stand that resulted in a pregnancy, set up my best friend with a criminal, and passed out at my other best friend’s opening night. What will I do next?”
“I guess you’re just really giving in to the hormonal changes of pregnancy,” Jennifer teased.
“Well, jeez. I don’t know if I can accept that,” Amelia said.
“Pregnancy is a beautiful thing, my dear. That’s for sure,” Camilla affirmed.
“Come on, Mila. Tell us just one thing about him,” Amelia tried.
“Ugh. Okay.” Mila closed her eyes for a moment and put herself back in the daydream of that evening with Graham, about how he had made her feel like this mesmerizing creature, as though he would have stopped time to spend his life with her. He had said she was different than the others; he’d said he could have talked to her for ages and not run out of things to say.
But before she could fully articulate all this, there was the screech of the front door. Olivia’s voice rang out as she hustled through the house and appeared in the doorway of Amelia’s bedroom. Her eyes were tinged red with tears.
“Olivia!” they all cried in unison.
Olivia leaped onto the bed, nearly knocking the wine to the side. She wrapped her arms around Amelia and held her close as she said, “I just couldn’t be there anymore! I told Anthony to take over. Besides, everyone had drank too much. It was time to turn in.”
“I can’t believe you abandoned ship!” Amelia said.
“Come on.” Olivia leaned back and strung a curl behind Amelia’s ear. “You promise me you’re okay?”
“I promise.”
“Really? I just keep thinking about all the tasks I asked you girls to do today. I feel like I was a monster.”
Mila and Camilla exchanged smiles. Silence fell for just a moment — long enough for Olivia to laugh and say, “Okay. Okay. I was a monster.”
“Just a little bit,” Jennifer said. “But we forgave you immediately.”
“We forgave you even before you did it,” Amelia said.
“But now you’re on bed rest...” Olivia moaned. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“You girls can hang out with me here as much as you want,” Amelia said. “As long as you keep bringing me snacks. These Fig Newtons are so good. Oh! And Mila was just about to tell us more about that criminal I set her up with.”
“At least I wasn’t the only one who made a mistake this week,” Olivia said. “I think I read about that in the paper. They’re after him.”
“Maybe he escaped the island already?” Jennifer asked.
“But where would he have put the car?” Amelia tried.
“That car was a beauty, girls,” Mila said with a sigh. “I felt like a queen. And then, it all came crashing down. The worst of it was the same cop who had broken up Isabelle and Zane’s party was the one who came to the scene of the accident. I think he thinks I’m an idiot.”
“That’s impossible, Mila,” Camilla said.
“Yeah. Nobody has ever thought you were an idiot,” Amelia interjected.
“Tell that to my parents,” Mila returned.
The other four sisters exchanged worried glances. This had always been a topic Mila had returned to: the issue of her parents and their general distaste toward the way she lived her life. Back in the old days, the other girls’ mothers had been friends with Diana, but over the years, they had drifted away from her, citing her as one of the more selfish women they’d ever known.
“You know you can’t listen to them,” Jennifer said. “They don’t see you for who you are for some reason.”
A few minutes later, there was another screech of the front door. Oliver’s voice rang out as he greeted them.
“It’s just me!” In a moment, he appeared in the doorway. His eyes, too, were tinged with red, although it was difficult for Mila to imagine what he looked like when crying. He looked at Amelia as though she was the sun and the moon put together. Mila had long since felt he was some kind of savior; after all, he’d agreed to help raise a baby that wasn’t his, just because he had fallen head-over-heels for Amelia.
“Look at the five of you,” he said as he shook his head. “I feel like I just walked into a high school sleepover.”
“We’re talking about which boys at school are the cutest,” Amelia told him with a wide grin.
“I hope I made the roster?” he asked.
“Not sure. We still have more to discuss,” Amelia said. She then shifted her tone the slightest bit and said, “I had no idea you were coming back tonight.”
“Not like I could stay in the city after I heard what happened,” he returned. He then shifted his weight and pointed toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make myself a little bit of food. You girls keep up your gossiping. Let me know if you need anything.”
After another thirty minutes or so, Jennifer, Mila, Olivia, and Camilla stepped out of Amelia’s room. Amelia’s eyelids had drooped so low that they knew she had only a few moments of consciousness left. In the kitchen, they surrounded Oliver and demanded his utmost attention. “Treat her like a princess,” Jennifer said.
“She was very sick,” Camilla said.
“And she’s going to try to convince you she can do more than she can,” Mila said. “Don’t believe her.”
“Three weeks of bed rest, or even more, the doctor instructed,” Jennifer told him.
“She wants to be a busybody, but she just can’t right now,” Olivia affirmed.
Oliver spread his hands out between them. He nodded firmly and then said, “I know you don’t think men are capable of very much. But I promise you. I’ll take care of her. I love her, you know.”
The girls exchanged glances. Their
eyes gave it away that they struggled to trust anyone who wasn’t in their sisterhood. But they supposed they had to give Oliver the benefit of the doubt. One by one, they left the kitchen and darted out into the night. And late that night, when Mila prayed for Amelia’s safety, she knew the other girls said similar prayers.
Chapter Eleven
Mila and Isabelle sat at a small rickety table on the top level of the ferry. The large boat chugged toward Woods Hole, the main land, where they would duck back into their car and speed off for Tufts University, Isabelle’s dream school, and the place that would steal Mila’s greatest love out from under her. How was it possible that Isabelle was eighteen and on the verge of taking over the world? Even now, as she sat across from Mila, she looked every bit a woman: her shoulders back, her chin held high with confidence, her laughter sure and pleasant, like music. Mila could easily envision Isabelle’s next steps through her life. Her daughter would take on the world with ease.
Isabelle slipped her phone back into her purse and returned her attention to her mother. The coffee they drank was overly stale, and Mila tore open another packet of sugar and poured the small crystals into the dark liquid.
“Are you nervous?” Mila asked then.
Isabelle shrugged. “I mean, no? And kind of?”
“Sounds about right.”
“Tufts is so prestigious. I just am not fully sure why I got in,” Isabelle said somberly.
Mila arched an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right? Miss four-point-zero, president of the student council, and tennis team champion.”
“Yeah, sure. Of Edgartown High. This is Tufts we’re talking about.”
“I know that. But all the people going to Tufts this year are eighteen, just like you. They don’t know anything more than you do. You must remember that,” Mila told her sternly.
Isabelle pulled her phone back out of her pocket. As she texted, her brow furrowed all the more.
“Who is that?” Mila asked.
Isabelle shrugged, then said, “Just Harry.”
“Ah. He’s off to orientation soon, right?”
Isabelle nodded. “Yeah. Ohio State sounds kind of wild.”
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