Forever Friends

by Sarah Mackenzie

  “Look, Mommy! Castle!” Lincoln smiled proudly. “Big one.”

  “A book castle! I love it.” She bent down and kissed Lincoln’s cheeks, making him giggle. “I think it’s the most magical castle I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yay!” he cheered.

  “Are you hungry? Daddy’s making us breakfast right now. Well, breakfast number two for you, I’m sure,” she added. Sadie pushed his baby soft hair away from his forehead.

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  “Can you help me get these books back on Miss Renee’s shelves? And then thank her for playing with you this morning?”

  Sadie went to move a book, and Lincoln shrieked, “No! Mommy, stop it! My castle! You hurtin’ my castle!”

  Uh-oh.

  “Honey, you can build another one at our house.” Sadie thought about her paltry collection. Best-case scenario, Lincoln would have a book hovel. “Now help me clean this up so Miss Renee doesn’t have to. It was so nice of her to let you play with her books, wasn’t it?”

  Lincoln’s bottom lip trembled before he began to howl.

  “That’s okay! We can leave the book castle up.” Renee swooped in. She lowered her voice. “Seriously, Sadie, don’t worry about it. It’ll take me ten minutes tops to get all of these books put away.”

  “Really?” Renee had already done her such a huge favor this morning. She hated the idea of leaving her with an additional mess. “Are you sure?”

  Lincoln wailed louder.

  “Yep! Now get home to that yummy breakfast. Thanks for coming over, Lincoln. I had a lot of fun!” Renee rubbed his back. “Come visit again soon, buddy.”

  Sadie and a hiccupping Lincoln returned home, where Ethan was plating hot, melty sandwiches. He cut each diagonally, just like Sadie preferred, and filled a bowl with freshly cut fruit.

  “OJ or water?” he asked her.

  “What is this, a restaurant?” she marveled. “OJ, please!”

  As Sadie used airplane noises to fly strawberry slices into Lincoln’s mouth, she was struck with how much she loved being a mother and how excited she was about the new baby. This pregnancy felt like a fresh start, a new beginning.

  Sadie cleared her throat, her heart beating with excitement. “Honey, there’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up.”

  “Yeah?” Ethan took a bite of his sandwich. He looked relaxed, as if he was expecting Sadie to tell him the furnace filter needed changing or that she wanted to paint the guest bathroom for a third time. “What’s up?”

  She used the end of her fork to push a green grape around her plate, taking a deep breath. She had to set this up right, explain everything best as she could. It would be a big change for their family, and Sadie wanted Ethan to know every detail.

  “As much as I’ve loved and appreciated this time at home with Lincoln—” Almost on cue, Lincoln began to cough. Sadie handed him his juice and waited until he had three successful swallows to continue. “Ethan, I would like to go back to work.”

  Ethan stopped eating. “At the design firm?”

  Sadie colored. “No, not the design firm. I would be up here in the Cove. I’d like to work with Renee.”

  “At the doctor’s office?”

  Good God she was doing a lousy job of explaining this.

  “No, honey.” She took a moment to pause, to catch her breath. “Renee and I are considering opening a pie shop together.”

  “A pie shop,” Ethan repeated.

  “A pie shop,” she confirmed. “Remember those pies she made for Lincoln’s birthday party? Well, we’d be serving a mix of Renee’s recipes as well as Grandma Hester’s. The Old Red Mill has a space up for lease, and Renee has the money to take it. We would be the anchor shop. I thought it was all a little crazy…but then I visited the space, and it just, it just feels right.”

  Not waiting for Ethan to reply, she continued. “Renee would be in charge of the kitchen, and I would run the front of the house. I would also get to oversee the renovation. But before we move forward, I wanted to discuss it with you. Of course. Obviously.” She stopped. She was clearly rambling.

  Ethan stared at his half-finished plate, shaking his head in a sort of stunned silence.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “Sweetheart, while I think the pie shop is a fantastic idea for Renee, why do you need to be involved?” His words stung. “Running a restaurant is extremely hard work. It’s long shifts without much profit—particularly in the early days when you’ll have a newborn and a toddler to look after.”

  His words made Sadie see red.

  “Don’t you mean when we’ll have a newborn and a toddler to look after? They’re your kids, too.” Sadie used all of her strength to keep her voice calm because Lincoln was in the room. “But I don’t see you thinking twice about your long hours and extended time away from your family.”

  “Of course I know that they’re my kids, too. I work hard so that you don’t have to. I want to provide for you guys the same way my dad did for us,” Ethan responded as though that was obvious.

  “Seriously?” She forced a laugh. “I mean, Ethan, come on. It’s not 1950.”

  He made a noise of frustration. “That’s not what I mean. I’m not trying to force you into high heels to serve me pot roast on Sundays or something. I just want you to feel like I can take care of you.”

  “And I appreciate that! I truly do,” she said, her voice shaky. “But, well, your mom chose a path that made her happy, and that’s the same luxury I want. I want to choose my own path, a path that makes me happy. I want you to take care of me, but not be so focused on the material part. Take care of my heart, my well-being, and I’ll do the same for you.”

  Ethan shoved his glasses up onto his forehead and ground fists in his eyes. “Can’t you see how hard I’m working to take care of your well-being? And our son’s! And, now, the baby! Don’t you see how much I love this family?”

  “I get that, but I need you to get something too.” She swallowed. “Don’t you remember who I was when you met me? When you fell in love with me? I was the woman who stayed at her desk working until six thirty, seven o’clock every night, the one who looked forward to tough problems and creative solutions. I’m still that same person, that same ambitious woman you fell in love with. It’s not like the second I pushed Lincoln out, I suddenly changed.”

  He nodded but remained quiet.

  “I know it seems counterintuitive, but I believe I would be a better mom if I got that part of myself back. I wouldn’t feel like I was always drowning. Plus, Lincoln is the perfect age to start at Little Acorns. He can go to preschool while I’m at work. I figure we can find part-time sitter help for the new baby, and I can carry him or her around in the Björn on other days.” She reached for Ethan’s hand. He let her take it. “Please say something.”

  “I mean…wow. It’s just, things are a little unpredictable right now…” He scooted his chair away from the table, stood, and gently placed his plate in the kitchen sink.

  “Unpredictable?” she repeated. “Because of the baby?”

  Something else—anxiety, uncertainty?—flashed through Ethan’s eyes, but he eventually nodded. “Yeah, exactly. We don’t know what it’s going to be like juggling two little ones. It’s just…I’m excited for you, sweetheart. I really am. I can see why this would be a really wonderful thing for you, for us, but I need a little time to process.”

  She nodded. She got that.

  “I worry about you getting overwhelmed or feeling spread too thin. Restaurants are such risky endeavors. And I would hate to see you put so much into it and have it fall apart; since it’s not like you can get the time with the kids back.” He reached for a towel, wringing it in his hands. “I just worry. You know how good I am at that.”

  Sadie smiled sadly. “You’d earn gold at the Olympics if it was a sport.”

  “Ha, tell me about it.” Annette’s favorite story to tell involved Ethan finding a sickly kitten in their backyard. The vet was closed for
the evening, so what did Ethan do? Swaddled the poor thing with an old sweatshirt and bottle fed it every two hours until morning despite uncontrollable sneezing. That’s how they discovered he was allergic.

  “Why don’t you go take a nap? Or get some mama time in? I’ll clean this all up and keep an eye on Lincoln.”

  “Um, okay. Thank you.” It was a kind offer, but Sadie wasn’t ready for the conversation to end. Not like this, with no solid resolution or understanding between them. “Can we talk about this later then? After you’ve had time to, um, process?”

  Ethan gave a distracted nod, suddenly hyper focused on transferring the leftover fruit to Tupperware.

  She could do this: juggle being a mom and helping run a business.

  But it seemed like Ethan doubted her?

  What if he simply thought she wasn’t up to the challenge?

  * * *

  Sadie tried to lie down and rest, but her mind was racing. She stared at the fan spinning above her, at the tiny crack in the otherwise perfect ceiling.

  She’d finally gathered the courage to tell Ethan about the pie shop idea, about working again, and his response had been disappointing. He didn’t seem to have confidence in her, and he also didn’t seem to really get what made her tick. His wife.

  Was the pie shop a silly idea?

  Maybe it was like he had said—fantastic for Renee, not for Sadie.

  It was Renee who had this marvelous talent, not Sadie.

  Was this the hill she wanted to die on?

  Frustrated, she tumbled out of bed. Sadie stood at the top of the stairs and called down, “Honey? I can’t sleep. I’m going to pick up Lincoln’s room instead. You guys doing okay down there?”

  “I’m showing Lincoln that documentary my mom sent us!” he shouted in return. “The one about the Cincinnati parks?”

  Great. Sadie couldn’t wait to hear Lincoln ask if they could visit some random playground in Southwest Ohio. But now wasn’t the time to argue.

  “Wow! Sounds fun!”

  Sadie opened the hall closet and pulled out their Shark vacuum cleaner, a wedding present from one of Annette’s sisters. Naturally, Ethan’s Aunt Celia had gone for the pet hair model, as it was “only a matter of time” before the family adopted a furry friend.

  What was it with the Landrys and their dogs?

  She dragged the vacuum into Lincoln’s bedroom and removed the childproof cover plate from an electrical outlet so she could power up. She and Lincoln both had a bad habit of tracking sand throughout the house, and his bedroom could certainly use a good sweep.

  She also liked to disinfect his toys every few weeks and straighten up his crowded bookshelf. And more often than she’d care to admit, she found herself wiping the walls down with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. But as she gathered up Lincoln’s dump trucks, stuffed animals, and blocks, a new idea came to mind.

  The cushioned bench she’d had specially made for the family room would work great up here. Lincoln could store his toys inside, and the top would serve as a cozy reading spot. And if she moved that bench to Lincoln’s bedroom, that meant she could put the gorgeous steamer trunk she’d found in the attic downstairs.

  It had been her grandparents’, a family heirloom that deserved to be in a more prominent area.

  So once again, Sadie found herself making the trip to the attic.

  “What is it you’re looking for?” Ethan asked, holding the ladder securely behind her. Lincoln tugged on his shirt, demanding they return to their film.

  “I’ve already found it,” Sadie said. “I just need to clean it out first.”

  “Let me know when you’re coming down then,” he replied with a shrug, disappearing back downstairs with Lincoln in tow.

  She unfastened the straps of the trunk and pushed open the top. There’s more stuff in here than I thought.

  Sadie bundled up a large stack of papers and photographs and brought them downstairs to her bedroom where she could properly sift through the lot. She spread the assortment across her and Ethan’s king-sized bed, organizing the material into various piles. She couldn’t wait to show her parents some of these pictures. There was one of her mother as a toddler with brownie batter all over her chubby face and a wooden spoon in her hand.

  Had Sadie ever seen her mother eat a decadent dessert? Melissa was extremely careful about what she ate, usually deferring to sliced berries and yogurt as an “indulgence.” Seeing her dig into a bowlful of brownie batter—even as a three-year-old—was positively mind-boggling. Sadie imagined her mother came out of the womb requesting a tossed salad with the dressing on the side.

  A small notebook with a worn, leather cover caught Sadie’s eye. DIARY was neatly embossed against its cover, is gold ink legible despite its age and wear. She wiped her hands against her thighs, sensing this was something special, a family heirloom that should be treated with care. Gently, she opened it.

  Sadie instantly recognized Grandma Hester’s distinctive cursive.

  “Oh my God. Grandma’s diary,” she breathed, her eyes going glassy.

  January 1, 1974

  Hank and I missed Charlie and Louise’s New Year’s Eve party last night—the first time ever, too! Little Melissa had a wicked fever, and I’m sure the boys will soon enough. As they say, when it rains, it pours. Knowing my luck, we’ll all come down with the stomach bug to boot. Now won’t that be a treat—and not the kind of chocolate and peanut butter. Anyways, instead of a New Year’s Eve spent enjoying oysters Rockefeller and champagne, the five of us feasted on minestrone soup and Sunny Delight instead. It was a pissah.

  Sadie giggled, recognizing Grandma Hester’s signature Maine spunk. She was also reminded of what Grandma said whenever she dared complain: “No one likes a spleeny, Sadie doll. Get yourself a diary for your grievances.”

  January 3, 1974

  Jack went back to school today, so once again, it’s just Brent, Melissa, and me at home during the day. Melissa’s fever broke yesterday, and no one else in the house caught it before then. I think that’s a good sign for the year ahead, don’t you?

  January 5, 1974

  Oh, LORDY!!! Yesterday was right out straight. Tried baking Nantucket cranberry pie for Hank’s birthday, and had only just started when Brent scampered into the kitchen and dropped an entire carton of eggs on the floor. A dozen eggs—SPLAT! GONE! And then poor Melissa slipped and landed on her behind. For a split second I felt like crying, but thankfully, my urge to laugh was much stronger.

  Sadie sighed. Why couldn’t she be more like Grandma Hester? Making a special pie from scratch for her husband’s birthday, finding the ability to laugh at the day’s imperfections. If that had happened to her? She probably would have sat right in the broken egg mess and sobbed, shells clinging to her butt.

  January 7, 1974

  Nantucket cranberry pie was a success! All the guests loved it and Hank teased, “Hester, I think you owe it to this entire town to open a bakery!” He was only joking. I know he was. But it got me to thinking…what if I did? Not to sound boastful, but I am a mighty fine baker. My pies are especially wicked. All our family and friends say so.

  Oh my God. Grandma had thought about opening a pie shop?

  January 8, 1974

  Still daydreaming about that bakery of mine. I think I would call it Hester’s—does that sound conceited? I think it would be just the nicest thing, having a little shop that’s all my own. I’ve even been doodling designs—see them below?

  Sadie gasped. Hester’s. It was the name she and Renee had selected. Amazing.

  Sadie traced her fingertips over three logos. The first was “Hester’s” written inside the shape of a rolling pin. The second was an illustration of a pie, complete with squiggles of “steam” overtop, and the third featured the most darling sketch of a woman, presumably a self-portrait of a young Hester, wearing an apron and proudly presenting a pie. “These are wonderful,” she murmured.

  January 21, 1974

  I haven’t written in a
while. I’ve been avoiding you, Diary, and it’s because I don’t want to pass along my sour news. When I write things down here, they feel more real. Hank isn’t on board with my bakery idea. He actually laughed when I first told him about it, thinking I was only pulling his leg. When he realized I was serious, he grew quite serious. “But Hester, who will watch the children?” he asked me.

  Do you know what’s silly? Here I thought we’d come up with a plan for that together, somehow. Foolish and naïve.

  “You aren’t foolish,” Sadie murmured, quickly flipping ahead in the diary. Had Grandma owned a pie shop and Sadie had just never known about it? Grandma Hester was so confident, so capable. If the woman had wanted to run a bakery, by God, she must have done it.

  She stopped on October 19, 1975. That seemed like a good amount of time for Grandma to have gotten things up and running.

  I just adore the children’s Halloween costumes this year—Jack is being a cowboy, Brent a scarecrow, and Melissa a puppy dog! What a funny crew! I’ve been busy for weeks now sewing their ensembles. They’ll make quite the trio.

  Sadie’s pulse quickened as she turned to a year from that date, and then six months past that. She flipped through the diary, landing at its last page: June 30, 1978.

  Made my signature pies for the Fourth of July celebration! Getting to sell my creations is the highlight of my year. It makes me a little melancholy thinking about my own shop, but oh, how I love watching my happy “customers” take their first bites.

  So, that was as far as Grandma Hester made it. An annual bake sale.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Echoes of her conversation with Ethan pinged in her brain and her body burned with frustration for her grandmother all these years ago. Grandma Hester had deserved that bakery of her very own. She would have been a badass business owner. No one was as charming or as quick-witted as her grandmother. And her baked goods! They were Cranberry Cove legends.

  Grandma Hester had been gone for over a decade now.