by Kate Hewitt
“Not even the bridesmaids’ dresses?”
“I want it all to be a surprise. Esther and Rachel have already tried theirs on, so it’s just you.”
“Of course, I’m going to be bigger two months from now,” Miriam warned her, and Anna nodded.
“Yes, but I’ve ordered a bigger size to accommodate your growing bump. How is she?” She smiled as she said this, glancing at Miriam’s middle.
“She’s fine.” Miriam hesitated, wanting to say something else, but then she decided to drop it. She’d been prickly enough last night, forcing everyone to abandon their dreams of a Holley grandchild in their midst, or at least put them on hold.
“And how are your new digs? I’ve never seen the annexe behind Dan’s place.”
“It’s lovely. The view is amazing. You’ll have to come over sometime. Perhaps I’ll even cook you a meal.”
“That would be amazing.” Miriam knew her sister meant it. “All right, now dresses!”
Upstairs, in the room she and Anna had shared, several dresses were laid out, swathed in plastic. Miriam glanced around the near-empty room, feeling a bit strange. She hadn’t been upstairs in the vicarage since she’d left it back in July. All that remained were the beds and drapes and a single bureau; all the childhood books, posters, toys, and mementoes had been packed away.
“It’s odd, I know,” Anna said quietly, as if reading her mind. “It’s going to feel really odd living here again, as well.”
“I can’t even imagine.” Miriam rested her hand on the post of her old bed. “I’m glad, though. Do you think you’ll fill the vicarage?” she asked with a mischievous grin, and Anna blushed.
“I hope so. Simon and I both want a large family, and this house rather demands it, don’t you think?”
“Yes…” It caused Miriam another pang, a good one, to think of Anna and Simon’s children running up and down the stairs, whooping through the garden. It was the way the house was meant to be. “Yes, definitely.”
“All right, now the dress.” Anna removed the plastic from the bridesmaid dress Miriam had only seen online, and she looked at it now askance, because while it was beautiful, she was pregnant, and was only going to get bigger.
“I don’t know, Anna. I’m worried I’m going to look like a big red blob.”
“Not at all. I picked an empire waist so it will drape over your bump. Try it on, please?” Anna gave her an encouraging look, and Miriam nodded.
“Of course I will.” The last thing she wanted to do was kick up a fuss over her dress and spoil Anna’s day. “Just give me a sec.”
She’d never been particularly modest, especially not in front of three sisters who tended to comment rather ruthlessly on each other’s appearances, from spots on chins to whether someone’s boobs looked too big, or in Miriam’s case, too small, in an outfit.
But she felt shy now, stripping off in front of Anna, and showing her bump, a part of her body she’d tried not to look at too much herself. Anna must have sensed this, for she murmured an excuse about needing to check on something in the kitchen, and left Miriam alone.
Miriam stripped off quickly, avoiding the mirror hanging above the bureau. She unzipped the dress and stepped into it, the cool, slippery satin whispering against her skin. The dress was deceptively simple, a deep, Christmassy crimson, with a sweetheart neckline edged in lace, a velvet ribbon of deeper crimson highlighting the empire waist, and then a fall of satin to end in a swirl around her ankles. Miriam struggled with the zip and managed to get it most of the way up, just as Anna knocked on the door.
“How’s it look?”
“Okay, I think.” Miriam glanced at her reflection. The dress was definitely too big around her middle, but it wouldn’t be in another couple of months. Her heart gave another of those panicky lurches. She was coming onto six months now. She really needed to make a decision.
Anna opened the door, clasping her hands in front of her as she caught sight of Miriam. “Oh, Miri, you look beautiful! Radiant.”
“You’re the one who’s meant to be radiant.”
“We’ll all be radiant. Honestly, I love it. But do you?” Anna looked at her anxiously. “Bbb…because I couldn’t bear to think you weren’t comfortable in it, or anything.”
“Oh Anna, it’s fine. It’s lovely.” Miriam gave her sister a quick hug. “Truly. Now let me see your dress.”
Half an hour later, after Anna had tried on her dress and Miriam had had to wipe away a tear or two, she was putting on her coat, ready to head back home. Home, a funny word for the rather impersonal annexe, but that’s what it was. She was due in Dan’s kitchen in just over an hour, and her heart flip-flopped at the thought.
“Oh, before I forget,” Anna said as Miriam made to leave. “These were given by Dorothy Tamworth, from church? Do you remember her?”
Dorothy of the parsnips, and the back row. “Yes, I remember her.” Miriam took the proffered bag from Anna cautiously, as if it might contain something dangerous, or perhaps just parsnips.
But when she peeked in the bag she saw it contained clothes, ironed and neatly folded.
“They’re maternity clothes,” Anna explained. “Her daughter’s. She’s finished having babies and Dorothy thought you might be able to use them. They’re quite nice brands, actually. Rather upmarket. I might ask to borrow them one day!”
“Oh…” Miriam felt herself flush. She was taken aback by the woman’s generosity. It humbled her, because she’d been so ready and willing to tar Dorothy with the brush of an unfeeling gossip. “That’s really kind.”
“People do want to help, you know,” Anna said quietly. “Perhaps if we keep saying it, you’ll start to believe it.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Miriam joked, and then felt mean. “Sorry, I don’t really mean that. This really was kind. I’ll have to thank her.” Which might mean having to brave church one Sunday. “Thanks, Anna,” Miriam said, and she gave her sister a hug before heading back up the high street, towards home.
Chapter Eight
An hour later, Miriam stood outside the French windows of Dan’s open-plan downstairs, wondering if she should just walk in or knock. She’d spent an inordinate amount of time deciding what to wear; she’d realised with some dismay that at nearly twenty-five weeks her skinny jeans no longer fit, even with the button undone and the zip halfway down.
Those maternity clothes had arrived in the nick of time, and she spent a pleasant half hour trying them on. Anna was right; they were nice brands, and better clothes than she’d ever bought for herself.
She finally settled on a brown corduroy skirt and a flowing top in burgundy, which had a tie that crisscrossed under her breasts so the fabric pulled a bit over her bump. It was strange how putting on maternity clothes made her look a lot more pregnant.
She didn’t dare wear makeup, in case Dan thought she was trying to impress him, heaven forbid, but she did use concealer because the violet shadows under her eyes were pronounced, and she pulled her hair into a loose topknot because otherwise it looked lank.
Miriam had never thought of herself as particularly pretty; attitude had been her appeal, her style, but now she wished her eyes were hazel like her sisters’, instead of mud brown, or that her hair had the natural bounce of Rachel or Anna’s instead of having a weird wave in the middle, as if it didn’t know what to do with itself. Still, she was who she was, and she’d have to do.
Now, with her arms full of shopping, she dithered for a moment before tapping lightly on the door and then pushing it open.
“Hello…?”
“Hey.” Dan came down the stairs, smiling his greeting. As he took her bags from her, Miriam noticed his hair was damp from a recent shower and he smelled like aftershave, something lemony. Things she shouldn’t really notice or care about, because this was Dan.
He was Rachel’s ex-fiancé, as well as seven years older than her. No way could she start looking at him like that, especially because she was quite sure he thought of
her as a kid sister, someone to be kind to because of who she was and what she was going through.
“So what have we got here?” Dan asked as she put her bag of shopping on the kitchen counter. Miriam glanced around, noting once again how homey and welcoming the place was. There was a fire burning merrily in the wood stove, and the table was already set for two. It almost felt like a date, but of course it wasn’t. Not remotely.
“A random assortment of ingredients, because I just picked everything that looked good.”
“A challenge, then.” He started taking things out of the bag. “Linguine, roasted red peppers, olives, prosciutto…” He glanced up, his eyes glinting. “I like the way you think.”
“So what are we going to make?”
“I think we’ll just throw it all together and see what happens.”
Miriam made a face. “I thought you said you knew how to cook.”
“I do. I’m not gourmet, though, remember? Come on.” He tossed her an apron, which Miriam put on, laughing a little.
“This feels like Ready, Steady, Cook.”
“I used to love that show as a kid. All right.” He plonked a frying pan on top of the range before handing her a large pot. “Fill that with water, and then you can start slicing the peppers.”
They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, slicing and chopping, and then Dan instructed her on how to sauté the roasted peppers and prosciutto in olive oil, before adding the olives and a tin of chopped tomatoes he’d found in his own cupboard.
With the sauce simmering away, he sliced a baguette he’d bought while Miriam poured two glasses of sparkling water.
“It already smells amazing,” she said.
“And it was easy.”
“Easier than I expected,” Miriam admitted. “I’m glad something is.”
A few minutes later, Dan had dished it all up and they were sitting at his table, plates of steaming pasta in front of them.
“So you said your sisters were giving you some grief,” Dan said with a direct look as he forked up some pasta, twirling it neatly around the tines. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Miriam shrugged. “Just the usual. They’re all anxious for me, wanting to know what I’m going to do about this baby.”
“Have you come to a decision?”
“No. I have an appointment at an adoption agency this week.” Miriam swallowed hard; as usual, just the thought of that appointment set her heart to lurching as panicky doubt fluttered through her. “I need to investigate that possibility, at least, even if no one agrees with me.”
Dan nodded. “Of course you do.” He frowned, his brows drawing together. “Your sisters don’t want you to consider adoption?”
“No, although they won’t say as much. I don’t think my parents want me to, either. I understand it in a way, but I know it needs to be my decision. And no matter how much support everyone will promise to give, it will still be my child. My life.” She felt a lump forming in her throat and willed herself not to cry. She wanted to have a pleasant evening, not a rehash of all that was wrong in her life.
“I’m sorry.” Briefly Dan covered her hand with his own. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. You probably wanted to forget about it for a bit.”
“Yes, but I can’t.” She gave him a rather watery smile. “I just feel so guilty all the time. I’m tired of feeling guilty, but I don’t know how to stop.”
Dan paused, his gaze steady on her. “You know what your dad would say, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure. He’s been lovely about it, as always, but I know he’s disappointed in me.” Her throat felt thick as she forced the words out. “I’m disappointed in myself.”
“Oh, Miriam.” Dan touched her hand again, lightly. “Everyone’s messed up, you know. Everyone’s made mistakes, had regrets. You’re not alone in that.”
“Yes, but…this is a very big, very visible mistake.”
“A mistake is a mistake, no matter what. And your father would tell you that God forgives our mistakes, and uses them to help us grow stronger and better.”
She hadn’t expected Dan to talk about God, but then of course he’d been a regular churchgoer all along. She sighed, a shuddery sound. “I’m not sure how I feel about God, to be honest. And he hasn’t heard from me in a very long while.”
“There’s always time.” Dan smiled easily, content to drop it. “Sorry if this is too personal, but I’m assuming the father is not in the picture at all…?”
Miriam flushed and shook her head. “Nope. He doesn’t even know.”
“Shouldn’t you tell him?”
She bit her lip, hating the thought of Dan thinking badly of her. “I would if I could, but I have no contact details for him. All I know is his name is Rory, and he’s from Nottingham.” She looked away, not wanting to see the shock and censure in his eyes. It sounded so sordid, pregnant by a man whose name she didn’t even know.
And in reality she couldn’t quite picture Rory’s face in her mind. Blond hair artfully gelled, bright blue eyes, a quick smile. Beyond that… “The truth is, I went to a party on the beach in Sydney and had a few too many ciders, and ended up…” She gestured to her bump. “I wasn’t that drunk, and I knew what I was doing, but…I don’t even know the guy.”
She forced herself to look at him, to face down his disapproval, but when she met his eyes she saw that there wasn’t any, just a sad sort of compassion, which felt both better and worse. “I suppose it’s not the way a baby is meant to come into this world,” Dan said carefully. “But it’s in the past, Miriam. You can’t beat yourself up over it forever.”
“I don’t feel like I’m beating myself up at all. I’m just avoiding everything.”
“You can only do that for so long.”
“Exactly, and so I’m trying to stop. I’m hoping when I go to the adoption agency, that will give me some clarity. It’s just…” She blew out a breath and then confessed, “I’m scared. I don’t feel like I can be a mother. I’m twenty-three, I’ve never held down a proper job, I’ve never even taken care of a houseplant.”
“You’ve been taking care of Bailey,” Dan returned, “and you have a spider plant in your kitchen that looks remarkably healthy.”
Miriam laughed in spite of herself. “True, but a human being is another matter entirely.” A little girl. The words bottled in her throat. “It’s terrifying.”
“I think it’s terrifying for everybody.”
“Do you think I should keep her, then?” Miriam asked. “Are you like everyone else, not wanting to say but having an opinion on the subject?”
“Her?” Dan repeated and Miriam bit her lip, nodding.
“Yes, I found out it’s a girl.”
“It’s not my place to have an opinion on the subject, Miriam. Only you can decide what’s right for you and this child. The fact that you’re carrying it—her—to term is a feat in itself. But only you know whether you feel it’s better for this little girl to have a loving family somewhere else, or with you and your family. Either way, she’s going to have a good life.”
Tears pricked her eyes and with a shaky laugh she dabbed at them. “Oh, these pregnancy hormones. I’m so tired of blubbing all the time.” Although she didn’t think in this case it was pregnancy hormones making her tear up. It was Dan’s understanding and kindness.
“How about dessert? I’ve got chocolate ice cream in the freezer.”
“That sounds marvellous.”
By the time Dan had dished out the ice cream, Miriam had managed to compose herself. She felt embarrassed for being so emotional, but Dan had taken it in his stride and she was glad she’d told him as much as she had. She had no more secrets; he’d heard her worst, and he wasn’t disapproving or disappointed or anything else. He was her friend.
“What about you, Dan?” she asked as she rinsed the plates in the sink. “What’s your long-term plan these days? Will you stay in Thornthwaite?”
“I can’t imagine going anywhere
else.”
“But you still want what you’d been hoping to have with Rachel, don’t you?” Miriam asked, emboldened by her own over-sharing. “I mean, with someone else?”
“Obviously with someone else.” He gave her a quick smile. “And the answer is yes and no. Like Rachel, I went after the package deal. It looked a little different from hers, and I convinced myself I really wanted her, and not the house, the kids, the dog. And I did care about her, a lot.” He paused, weighing his words. “But I think she was right, in what you told me she said. We didn’t actually know each other as well as we should have. We loved the idea of each other, rather than our true selves, warts and all.”
“So what does that mean for you, now?”
Dan sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll stay here, keep working, and maybe I’ll meet someone someday. Maybe I won’t.” He smiled and shrugged. “Part of working through our breakup was realising that I’ll be okay, either way. My happiness doesn’t hang on this dream I once had of how life was going to be.”
“That sounds very wise.”
“Well, it took some time. I’m no saint. I was angry for a while, even though I was the one who broke it off. I still felt jilted.” He smiled wryly, and Miriam nodded. She could understand that, especially as Rachel had started dating someone seriously within a few months.
“As you know, I’m no saint either.” Miriam turned away, afraid her offhand statement sounded like some sort of declaration. Let’s be non-saints together! She really needed to stop thinking like that, at the most inopportune moments. It came upon her suddenly, this desire to make things date-like. It was so inconvenient, and so very foolish.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, speaking too quickly, aware of how awkward she seemed, how loud her voice. “It was wonderful. I’d better get back, though. Big day tomorrow. I’ve got this demanding boss…” She tried for a laugh but it sounded more like a squawk.
“No problem.” Dan smiled easily, his thumbs tucked in the loopholes of his jeans. “If you need anything, you know where I am.”
“Right.” She fumbled with her coat, and Dan helped her, holding out the sleeve so she could get her arm in. It took three attempts, and Miriam could feel herself blushing. She really needed to get hold of her unwieldy feelings. “Thanks again,” she burbled, and then she hurried across the darkened lawn to the quiet emptiness of her own house, wishing she hadn’t left so abruptly, and wondering what on earth Dan thought of her now.