The Oysterville Sewing Circle

by Susan Wiggs

  She got up from her desk, massaging a crick in her neck, and wandered outside. To her surprise, there was Will in jeans and a striped shirt with the sleeves rolled back. As always, she had to work to disguise her reaction to seeing him.

  “I thought you had a date tonight,” she said.

  “I did, but I bailed.”

  Caroline couldn’t escape a reality she’d been running from for a long time. She still had a crush on Will Jensen. No, it was worse than that. It wasn’t a crush. It was much more, a yearning so powerful it kept her awake at night, plagued by restless cravings. It distracted her all day, filled her with equal measures of joy and guilt.

  He was off-limits. Her best friend’s ex.

  He probably didn’t even feel the same way about her as she felt about him. Except sometimes she thought maybe he did. Every so often she’d see him looking at her in a certain way, his eyes alight. And she’d think maybe . . .

  “Why?” she asked.

  “What’s that?” He stuck his hands in his pockets.

  Oh, God. She even loved the way he stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “Why did you bail?”

  He paused. Checked her out with a warm, slow, up-and-down look. She wished she were wearing something nicer than work clothes—ankle jeans and a stylized white smock she’d designed, her homemade homage to houses like Chanel, where the workers dressed in lab coats.

  “Come on inside. I’ll tell you over a beer.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks. I could use a break. I already told my mom I might be pulling an all-nighter.”

  “Big project?”

  “The biggest. I’ll tell you over that beer. God, I hope I haven’t bitten off more than I can chew.”

  He gave her a nudge, the way he used to when they were kids. “You don’t chew beer.”

  She rolled her eyes and followed him into the house. Fisher greeted them with swirls of ecstasy. Since Sierra had left, Water’s Edge hadn’t really changed. She had walked away with nothing but her clothes and personal things. To Caroline, she’d explained, “It was never my house. I picked out furniture and finishes and paint colors as if my life depended on it, but really, it was just to make Will happy. To make our life look happy, I suppose. But in the end, it wasn’t enough.”

  The place was still beautiful. How could it not be, given Sierra’s sense of style? Caroline noticed more of Will’s things—a framed team picture on the wall, sports gear in the mudroom.

  She was struck by a curious notion. She was totally excited about her plans. And there was only one person she really wanted to tell—Will. But first—

  She climbed up on one of the kitchen barstools and took a big gulp of beer. “Beer is always a good idea,” she said. “Coats my nerves with happiness. Now, you bailed on your date . . . why?”

  “I realized I was wasting her time and mine. This past year, dating has just been a distraction for me.” He paused, looked at Caroline with an expression she hadn’t seen before. “Gets in the way of what I really want.”

  “Which is . . . ?”

  “To be with someone longer than a night or a weekend. It’s been fun, but now I’m over the just-divorced phase.”

  “Now, that,” she said, “is going to break a lot of hearts on the Long Beach Peninsula.”

  “Nah.”

  “You say. I’ve been watching, Will. Women love you. Everyone’s been talking about the hot young coach who’s back on the market.”

  “Everyone, eh?” He chuckled. “Who are these women who love me?”

  “It’s a small town. I hear stuff. So you’re going to quit dating and do what?”

  “I’m going to quit dating and fall in love again.”

  She was so startled to hear the words come out of his mouth that she inhaled too quickly at the exact moment she was swallowing a mouthful of beer. The result was not pretty. Choking and trying to catch her breath, she grabbed a tea towel and held it to her mouth.

  “Easy,” he said, patting her on the back. “You okay?”

  She nodded and waved him off, then went to the sink and washed up. “I’m fine. Got all choked up, is all.”

  “Not exactly the reaction I was looking for,” he said.

  What reaction were you looking for? She didn’t let herself ask. “I’ll try to finish my beer without spewing again.”

  “You’re not dating, either,” he said.

  “How do you know? Are you keeping track?”

  “No,” he said quickly. Then, “Yes. Yeah, I have been.”

  She sat down again. Took a cautious sip of her beer. Tried not to stare at his face, but couldn’t help herself. He had the lips. He had the eyes. “Why?”

  Holding her gaze with his, he took the beer bottle from her hand and set it gently on the counter. “Caroline. You know damn well why.”

  Caroline’s eyes flew open. She awoke with a leap of panic—a “what have I done?” swirling through her mind. No, she thought, clinging to a thread of denial. I did not do that.

  I did not just sleep with Will.

  A gentle, peaceful, ridiculously sweet snore came from the slumbering man next to her.

  Oh my God, I did, she thought. I did just sleep with Will.

  And oh my God, it was the best thing ever.

  She held herself motionless. Hardly breathing. Heart hammering, threatening to give her away. Then inch by inch she edged toward the side of the bed. It was still dark, the middle of the night. She still had plausible deniability on her side. She could sneak out now, drive home, slink into her bed like a truant teenager, and pretend this night had never happened.

  Except of course it had.

  She’d slept with her best friend’s ex-husband.

  And before sleeping with him, she’d had the best sex of her life. The kind of sex she’d been wanting ever since she knew what sex was. The kind that left her glassy-eyed, helpless, weightless, terrified, and . . . unbearably smitten.

  She had no excuse. No alcohol to blame, no sexual predator who had driven her into the safe arms of a man she trusted, a man she had loved as long as life.

  This was bad. This had to stop.

  A large warm hand tunneled under the covers and slowly, assuredly, made its way up her bare leg. “You’re awake,” murmured a deep voice.

  “How do you know? I haven’t moved a muscle.”

  “I can feel you breathing.” The hand circled the top of her thigh. “I can hear you thinking.”

  “Yeah? What am I thinking?”

  “Same thing I am.”

  One touch of his hand nearly undid her. “I’m not breathing,” she said. “I’m frozen with mortification.”

  “Cool.” In one easy movement, he covered her and started nuzzling her neck. “Then I won’t have to chase you around the bed. Don’t move. I’ll do all the work.”

  “I . . .”

  “All. The. Work.” His lips. His tongue. His knowing hands.

  She practically melted into the mattress. The large, comfy, pillow-top mattress on his bed. She was in Will Jensen’s bed. Sierra’s bed. And the things they’d done to each other . . .

  “Knock it off.” She scooted away from him and clutched the covers against her chest. “It’s after midnight. I need to go.”

  “You already called your mom and said you were pulling an all-nighter.” He touched her bare shoulder, drawing swirls on her skin. “She said she’d look after the kids.”

  Caroline burned under his touch. “We can’t do this, Will.”

  “Too late. We already did, and it was awesome, and I never want to stop.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s insane. You’re my best friend’s ex.”

  “Ex being the operative term.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard, which was upholstered in luxurious fabric, probably chosen by Sierra. “Look, at our age, everybody has an ex.”

  “Not like this. It’s a problem, Will. She was my best friend, and she used to be married to you.”

  “A
lmost everybody was married to someone else. We all have a past.”

  “Not a past like we have.”

  “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started. And you don’t get to say how this goes.”

  “And you do?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” His hands again. Fingers tracing, swirling. Glint of moonlight on his incredible chest.

  She shoved a pillow at him. “This is a terrible idea.”

  He was quiet for a few minutes. “Listen, Sierra and I grew apart. We got a divorce. It happens. And now this. Now we’re happening. You and me.”

  She scooted even farther from him. She was glad for the darkness in the room, because she was certain her face was a mask of panic, wonder, and confusion. “We’re not. We can’t.”

  “Damn, Caroline. What the hell are you afraid of?”

  Everything. Mostly, she was afraid of wanting this too much, of falling for him and being utterly incapable of picking herself up after whatever inevitable disaster awaited them.

  “Talk to me,” he said. “I’m not used to you not talking. You talk all the time. I love that about you.”

  Was that the same as I love you?

  She drew her knees up to her chest, overwhelmed. “I’m afraid of . . . God, where do I begin? What about my kids? And by my kids, I mean it’s about to be official. I’ve submitted a petition to adopt them.”

  “That’s fantastic, Caroline.”

  “I told them, too. They’re going to be my kids. My kids.”

  “I love Addie and Flick, too,” Will said. “We get along great. Listen, you’re making this more complicated than it is.” He moved the covers aside and hovered over her. His lips, his hair falling forward, his muscular frame impossible to resist. “I’m all in.”

  As Caroline drove with Virginia to the weekly meeting of the Sewing Circle, it was hard not babbling on and on about Will. Despite her trepidation, their love affair burned like a wind-driven forest fire, dangerous and impossible to curb. The sex turned her into a blithering idiot, but sometimes, sex was the smallest part of her passion. Sometimes, lying with him on the dock, looking up at the stars, and talking endlessly about life and dreams and fears and plans was everything she desired.

  Their years-long friendship was no longer a friendship. It had exploded, then melded into a different shape entirely.

  She wanted to say something. She wanted to shout it to the world. She couldn’t, though. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “Are we going to have a crowd tonight?” she asked, noting the nearly full parking lot.

  “Looks that way.” Virginia parked and they got out. “Ready?”

  Caroline nodded.

  She went inside and was nearly blown back against the wall by a loud “Surprise!”

  What the hell? The room was decked with pink and blue garlands and balloons. On the snack table was a large sheet cake, and overhead was a banner that read Congratulations! It’s a boy! And a girl! Pictures of Addie and Flick were stuck to the rolling whiteboard, which was covered with scrawled messages, hearts, and flowers.

  “You guys,” Caroline said, falling against Virginia. “A baby shower?”

  “A kid shower,” Georgia said, greeting her with a hug. “It’s never too late to celebrate having kids.”

  Her mom was there with chilled champagne. “Don’t worry, the children are with your father. I wanted to be here. I hope you don’t mind that I told everyone that the family court approved your adoption petition.”

  “It’s provisional,” Caroline pointed out. There had been extensive pre-adoption studies and home visits. She would be subjected to a placement period and post-adoption follow-ups as well.

  “The waiting period is standard,” Virginia said. “Face it, Caroline. You’re committed. And we have the cake to prove it.”

  Caroline nearly came undone. “I need a tissue,” she said. “And a piece of that damn cake.”

  Her sisters brought her to a chair in the circle and served the cake. It was one of Georgia’s most requested—organic lemon with lemon cream icing, decadent and delicious. It tasted like happiness. It tasted like love. “You got me,” Caroline said, savoring the first bite. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “We couldn’t let you miss out on a shower,” Echo said, cutting and serving the cake on pink and blue paper plates.

  “We’re really happy for you, Caroline,” Ilsa said. “How does it feel, being a mom?”

  “Different,” she said. “I’m not sure why. The adoption is really just a formality. It feels different, though. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Not really,” Georgia said. “I can explain it.”

  Of course she could. Georgia was a know-it-all. “Yeah?”

  “You’re a mom.”

  The reality of it took her breath away. Georgia was right. Caroline had a son. A daughter. She had been transformed, not by a court document, but by two incredible little human beings who had come into her life uninvited and set up permanent residence in her heart.

  “Yes, that’s it,” she said after a long pause. “I’m a mom.”

  Chapter 27

  Sierra reveled in finally having a job that didn’t depend on her looking like an emaciated seventeen-year-old. She was on the road more often than not, going from shoot to shoot, in charge of a crew that didn’t dare tell her to “sweeten up the lips” or “relax your forehead—you’re turning into your mother.” Or “give me your most fuckable look.”

  She didn’t miss that at all.

  She didn’t miss her old life.

  She didn’t miss her marriage.

  She did miss Will, though. Her perfect, perfect husband, whose heart she had trampled on, whose dreams she had shattered.

  People said she should be grateful and proud that the two of them had managed to uncouple without undue drama. Without leaving scorched earth in their wake. She didn’t feel grateful, though. Or proud. She just felt . . . empty.

  But in a good way. In a way that made her feel untethered, open to any possibility.

  The current possibility involved sitting on a deck overlooking a ridiculously scenic beach while sipping a cosmo and reading Cosmo. The shoot had been a whirlwind, and at last, it was quitting time. She tasted the lovely, sugary drink, which would have been kryptonite to her back in her days in front of the camera. And then she pictured the models in their shared rooms, chugging Diet Dr Pepper and smoking cigarettes, studying their pores and wrinkles in mercilessly magnifying mirrors.

  No, she didn’t miss that.

  She paged past the requisite “How to Make Him Make Out with You” article. Instructions not necessary. For the first time since high school, she was available, and guys were eager. She’d discovered that she was good at dating, good at having fun with no complications.

  Her phone chimed with a notification, and she glanced at it in annoyance. After rushing around all day, she just wanted some downtime. Then she saw a picture pop up. Caroline would like to FaceTime.

  Fine, Caroline she could handle. Sierra swiped up. “Hey, stranger.”

  “Sierra, hi.” Caroline’s face appeared. Behind her was a familiar sandy expanse, the waves crawling in at low tide.

  “This is a beach-to-beach call.” Sierra panned her phone so Caroline could see.

  “That’s gorgeous. Where are you?”

  “Descanso Beach on Catalina Island. Having a my-job-does-not-suck moment.”

  “I’m glad, Sierra. Your posts on Instagram look so good. I’m happy for you.” Caroline paused. Her face in the phone screen did not exactly look happy.

  “Everything all right? I’ve been following the photo stream for C-Shell and saw your news about getting a pop-up with Eau Sauvage. Way to go, Caroline. That company made a smart move.”

  “Thanks. I hope it works out. So . . . yeah.”

  Sierra took a sip of her cocktail and cast about for something to say. Since she’d been gone, their friendship had begun to fade back to the occasional thumbs-up on social media or a quick comment on a post.
It just wasn’t the same as a genuine, face-to-face friendship. Sometimes Sierra thought that might have been an early sign of her breakup with Will. When he was in the navy, he was gone for months and months, and the unavoidable separation had been the start of the long, slow drifting apart.

  She considered asking about the kids, but to her secret shame, she didn’t actually care that much.

  “How are the girls in the Sewing Circle?” she asked.

  “Oh! Mostly good.” Caroline gave her a quick rundown on a few of the women from the group—uplifting successes, disheartening backslides. Sierra hated to hear that a woman would go back into her abusive relationship or take up a new one, but it happened.

  “And Will?” Sierra asked the question lightly, aiming for a casual tone. She wanted to be a hundred percent done with the past, but a part of her still clung to him. “Who’s he dating these days?”

  Caroline’s jaw dropped, and Sierra laughed. “What, you don’t think I hear things? Remember, my mom’s the town gossip. She always makes sure I get all the scoop on my ex. Sometimes I think she took the divorce harder than I did.”

  “Oh, um, yeah.” Caroline’s eyes darted away, then returned. “Sierra, the reason I called . . . I wanted to let you know about something that happened.”

  Sierra felt a slight ping of awareness. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes! Absolutely. I mean, nobody’s sick or hurt or . . . Ah, shit. I’m calling to let you know that Will and I are together.”

  Well, of course they were, Sierra thought. They’d been together every summer from the beginning of time. The three of them had been inseparable. Big whoop. “And?” she asked.

  “I mean, together together,” Caroline said. “Damn it, I’m not explaining this well at all. The thing that happened is . . . we’re in love. It’s that kind of together.”