Heat Wave

by Nancy Thayer

  She glanced around the first floor. It looked great. It always did. She was forever dusting, straightening, bringing in fresh flowers, brightening the rooms for her guests. Besides, Vanessa wouldn’t care what the house looked like, they had so much to talk about!

  The knock came at the door. Carley pulled it open.

  The first thing she noticed was that Vanessa was alone. No man stood next to her. Then she focused on Vanessa’s familiar, lovely, beloved face, her full lips, her wavy hair, and her huge brown eyes full of emotion.

  She wore a loose cotton tunic over loose linen trousers. She looked, in general, thinner than she used to look, except that her breasts were larger.

  And she had a definite bump in her belly.

  Carley swayed with shock. “Vanessa, are you pregnant?”

  “I am.” Vanessa threw her arms around Carley and hugged her close for a long time. “Oh, man, I missed you so much, I’m so glad to be back.”

  “I missed you, too. So much! It’s been awful without you.” Carley ushered her friend into the living room. “Sit down. Want some coffee? Tea? Lemonade? A sweet roll?”

  “Nothing, will you stop it! Sit down!”

  They settled at opposite ends of the sofa, for a long moment silently gazing at each other.

  “You are so tanned,” Vanessa remarked. “And you look fabulous. What’s going on?”

  Carley waved her hands dismissively. “The B&B, I guess. I really like running it, Vanny, and it’s keeping us afloat financially. I mean, I’ll never be rich, but we’ll be okay. But tell me about you! About this!” She gestured toward Vanessa’s bump. “Where’s the father? Who is he?”

  Vanessa hesitated. She folded her hands protectively over her belly. “Okay. You have to promise not to scream.”

  “What?” Carley demanded, almost screaming. “What’s wrong with the father?”

  “Carley.”

  “All right. I’ll be good.” She made a zipper-closed motion across her lips.

  “Just listen, okay?”

  Carley nodded without speaking.

  “After the—what I call the explosion—I went to Boston to stay with Diane Wells, an old college friend of mine. She has a fabulous apartment on Beacon Hill. She runs an art gallery. She went to work every day. I mostly lay on the sofa and watched stupid television. I did go for walks. I did see the city. I didn’t totally stay inside and lick my wounds, but I was devastated by Toby leaving me for Maud. I was kind of paralyzed. You understand, I think you went through something like that when Gus died.”

  “You’re right. I did.”

  “Well … Diana likes the night life. She’s never married, she’s very chic, and she loves getting dressed up and going out. We went to lots of plays and movies. We went to concerts in the band shell on the Charles; I’d always wanted to do that. We went to lots of fabulous cocktail parties. Actually, I couldn’t have stayed with a more perfect person, I met so many people, some really nice people, and important, too—”

  Cut to the chase, tell me about the man, Carley wanted to demand, but she confined her impatience to wiggling her foot.

  “—and it was fun to get dressed in city clothes again, and Diana loves being single and I began to see a way of life I thought I might like.”

  “Oh, no.” Carley couldn’t stop herself from saying, “don’t tell me you’re selling your house and moving to Boston.”

  “Don’t interrupt. My point is, how can I phrase this, I wasn’t perhaps in what people would call my ‘right mind.’ I was sort of mentally all over the place. I was getting divorced, and I’d lost Maud and you. I wasn’t grounded. I had to go out with Diana, she wanted me to, she was only trying to cheer me up, so I went to parties, and then I, um …” Vanessa hesitated, frowning. She squeezed up her eyes and her shoulders, as if preparing to be hit.

  “Vanessa, what? You met a man?”

  “I met some men.” Vanessa peeked through her eyelashes like a child.

  “You met some men.”

  “Well, not all at once, of course.”

  “What are you even saying?” Carley demanded.

  “I mean, I had a fling.”

  “A fling?”

  “Well, two, actually. Listen. I met two different men. I don’t mean at the same time. I mean I had dates, and dinner, and I liked the guys, but not enough to get serious, not that I’m in any state of mind to get serious. But I wanted to feel attractive. I wanted to feel wanted. So … I slept with them. Once each. And to my surprise …”

  “Wait. Slow down. Did you see either man more than once?”

  “No. By the time I discovered I was pregnant, they were long out of my life. Not that they’d ever really been part of it.” She hugged herself. “I’ve always wanted to have a baby.”

  “Honey, I’m happy for you. But Vanessa, come on, which man is the father?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Oh, good grief.”

  “Don’t be a prude. It wasn’t like there was a cast of thousands. It was two different men over a two-week period. The last thing in the world I expected was to get pregnant. I don’t get pregnant. I never did with Toby.”

  “Yes, but Vanessa, it’s important to have information about the father’s genetic history—”

  “Look. I liked the men. They were nice. They were diverting.”

  “Diverting!”

  “Hey, don’t think that’s insignificant. My husband had left me for one of my best friends. I deserved to be diverted. And anyone who could divert me was pretty special.” Vanessa clasped her hands together. “Just listen for a minute, will you? I slept with two different men. They had all their teeth and they wore suits and spoke well and ran with a civilized crowd. They were nice guys. Afterward, they didn’t call me and I didn’t call them. I wasn’t hurt or mystified or anything. I kept going out with Diana at night and lying on the couch in the day, wondering what to do with my life.” Vanessa paused. “Then I started throwing up.” She crossed her arms over her belly. “But I thought—I thought it would end. I was horrified, but I was also a little bit hopeful.”

  “Oh, Vanessa.”

  “I didn’t think I could carry a child. It seemed all I could do was wait. I stopped going out so much. I bought groceries and cooked for Diana and we watched old movies together. It was a good place to wait. A good way to wait.”

  “Did you see a doctor?”

  “Not right away, no. I didn’t even take a pregnancy test. Not at first. I was so sure it would end.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Eighteen weeks. I went to an ob-gyn two days ago. The baby’s healthy.”

  “When’s the due date?”

  “February ninth.” Vanessa’s eyes misted over. “Oh, Carley, I want this baby so much.”

  Carley reached over and took Vanessa’s hand. “I’ll do anything I can to help you.”

  “Really? Then don’t give me grief about the father, okay? I didn’t give either man an opportunity to make a decision to be in my life. In this baby’s life. I don’t want either man in my life. One—don’t you judge me!—was too young.” A mischievous smile lit up her face. “The other was so sweet and lonely, like me. He was separated from his wife, hoping to go back to her. I hope he gets to. He was a good guy.”

  “But Vanessa, how can you raise a child alone?”

  “Lots of women do it. Some men, too. When my mother died, she left me some money, not a fortune, but almost. So I’ve got money. I got the house in the divorce.” Vanessa readjusted herself on the sofa so that she was almost kneeling toward Carley. “But the main thing, Carley, the important thing is—I won’t be alone. I realized that when I was in Boston. I’ve got you, and I’ve got so many other friends, not as close as you and Maud were, but still good friends. Like Lauren. And the teenager who lives next door to me, Jenny, she will make the best babysitter. I have always loved Jenny and her parents and her mother knows everything about children. Plus, I’m on so many boards on the island, and no one
has said, ‘Oh, well! If your husband’s left you for another woman, you can’t play with us.’ Instead, they’ve been very supportive, asking me over to dinner, that sort of thing. I haven’t been raising children on the island, but I have been doing good work that has helped the town. People like me, Carley. I may not have a husband any longer, and I never had a sibling, and my parents are both gone, but I still have a home. I belong here.” Vanessa’s face was childlike with radiance.

  “It’s true,” Carley agreed. “You do belong here, Vanessa.”

  “Oh, Carley.” Vanessa pulled her hand away from Carley’s and dug in her purse for a tissue to wipe her eyes. “Thank you. That means so much to me.” She blew her nose, then lifted her chin, somehow seeming both sweet and defiant. “It may be selfish of me to want this baby for myself. But I’ve never wanted anything more. Nothing has ever felt so right.”

  “I’m glad for you, Vanny.” Carley was tearing up, too. “I’ll help you every step of the way.”

  “I’m going to have a baby,” Vanessa whispered in awe, and for a few seconds while time glowed around them, the two friends sat smiling at each other.

  “Oh, I’m really happy.” Vanessa gave herself a little shake. “I have a board meeting this afternoon. It will be my first official public appearance as a divorced, pregnant woman.”

  “Have you told Toby?”

  “Gosh, no, why should I? He’s absolutely one place where I don’t belong. Look, Carley, I have tons to do, but would you come over soon and help me organize a nursery? I need to go slow, something could still go wrong, but it has been four months.”

  “I’d love to,” Carley assured her. “And when the time gets closer, I’ll give you the best baby shower.”

  “Oh, a baby shower for me!” Vanessa burst into tears again. “Sorry, sorry. I think I’m a little hormonally swamped these days.” She stood up. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

  “Absolutely. Congratulations, Vanessa.”

  30

  • • • • •

  A baby.

  After Vanessa left, Carley returned to Scallop to finish her work, but her mind floated with memories of baby bliss: the soft, fragile head, the wide trusting gaze, the warm snuggly little body. The smell of perfect sweetness. The little fist waving, the soft squeaking sounds during nursing. The dawning recognition, the first miraculous smile.

  A baby. She’d always wanted another baby. Seeing anyone else’s baby sent her into a cooing fit of baby greed. Was there possibly another baby waiting for her in her future? A baby with Wyatt? The thought was too important to go near. And the timing was wrong.

  At the moment, she had two daughters who needed her attention, not to mention guests arriving early this evening.

  The girls came home from school, full of their own gossip and concerns, craving bananas and juice. They piled into the car so Carley could drive Cisco out to Lauren’s for her riding lesson.

  “I’m staying longer today,” Cisco informed Carley. “Lauren told me she’s going to show me how to muck out the stalls.”

  “There’s a thrill,” Carley murmured.

  “It is! If I can learn to do things right, Lauren says I won’t have to pay for lessons. I can work instead. I’ll be able to spend more time riding. Also, I’m getting good enough and some of the horses know me well enough, I’ll be able to help the youngest novices by leading them around the ring.”

  “That’s impressive, Cisco. I didn’t realize you’ve become an expert.”

  “Oh, Mom, I’m not an expert,” Cisco laughed, happily. “But I am becoming capable. The cool thing is that I’m not afraid of the big horses, like other girls. See, it’s easy to think the ponies are safer because they’re small, but ponies really are the troublemakers. They love to nip and buck and tear around, they’re like yappy little dogs. The big horses, like Blue, have a more mellow personality.”

  Carley had never learned to ride, and she was a little wary of the big beasts Lauren hauled around like giant puppies. But she was glad Cisco had found something else to give her heart to.

  When they arrived, Lauren strode out of the barn, an equestrian goddess in jodhpurs and riding boots. She led a huge gray horse that looked to Carley to be about ten feet tall.

  “I thought you might like to see Cisco ride Blue awhile,” Lauren said. “She’s really coming along.”

  Margaret slipped her hand into Carley’s and squeezed next to her, eyes wide at the sight of the big horse.

  Cisco followed Lauren and the horse into the ring. She stroked the horse’s neck and talked to it, then Lauren gave her a leg up, and Cisco was in the saddle, straddling the enormous beast. With a slight squeeze of her legs and a click of her tongue, she urged the animal to a brisk walk around the ring.

  “Cisco’s a natural,” Lauren told Carley as they leaned against the fence. She noticed Carley’s face. “Don’t be afraid. Blue hasn’t ever bucked or thrown anyone.”

  “He’s huge,” Margaret whispered.

  “Yes, he is,” Lauren agreed. “But he’s eleven years old and the sweetest old guy on the planet.” To Carley, she said, “Did Cisco tell you I’m considering having her work for me?”

  “She’s going to yuck out the stalls!” Margaret said.

  Both women laughed.

  “The thing is,” Lauren said, “I hate charging you for Cisco’s lessons, but it costs a fortune, keeping this place going. Not just feed and vet bills and maintenance, but keeping the tack cleaned and grooming the horses. If Cisco really gets into riding, it’s something that could last her a lifetime, and she needs to learn everything. She could be helpful to me at the same time.”

  “I have to tell you,” Carley admitted, “Cisco’s not the biggest fan of cleaning house.”

  “That’s different. That’s her home. Here she’s made herself very useful. Let’s at least give it a try, what do you say?”

  “I say a big fat thank you! Lauren, I’m awfully grateful to you for introducing her to riding. It’s filled the void of ballet, and it’s helped her move on”—she glanced down at Margaret—“in other ways.”

  “You and I have to agree that if it doesn’t work out, our friendship will remain intact.”

  Friendships! What a minefield they’d become. “Of course.”

  Cisco had the horse trotting, and Lauren called out, “Thighs! Hands down!” To Carley she said, “Look how well she’s posting already.”

  “Thanks, Lauren.” She gave Cisco a thumbs-up. “What time shall I pick her up?”

  Lauren checked her watch. “Give her three hours.”

  “Fine.” Carley smiled down at Margaret. “Let’s go to the grocery store.” They headed back toward their car.

  Some days Margaret eagerly went to The Boys and Girls Club or to a friend’s house, but some days, for no obvious reason, she clung to Carley, sticking by her side no matter what odious task Carley had to perform. The counselor had advised Carley to go with this, not to make a fuss, not to urge Margaret to show up for T-ball practice, to act as if all were perfectly fine.

  She picked up a glowing Cisco from riding, served her girls a healthy meal, pretended to eat something herself, and organized them for school the next day. She gave Margaret a bath and read her a story. She was actually invited to sit on Cisco’s bed, listening to her daughter recount every clop and clip of Blue’s adorable hooves.

  She was thrilled by Cisco’s happiness, but her mind kept returning to thoughts of Vanessa. And her body burned to be with Wyatt.

  Russell and Annabel invited Carley and her girls to dinner every Sunday, but they sometimes gently refused to come to her house.

  “I don’t want you to take this personally,” Annabel told Carley one rainy October afternoon when Carley picked up the girls after an overnight. “But when we come to your house, we feel the loss of Gus more intensely. It was where he lived, after all. It was his home. You’ve turned it into a place where anyone can live.”

  Keeping her voice polite, Carley remin
ded her, “The B&B is keeping us afloat financially. I could sell the house, of course, and buy a smaller place on the island, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about money, but I don’t want to do that. We all want the girls to have this house eventually.”

  Annabel sighed. Since Gus’s death, she’d become even thinner, which made her look almost forbiddingly elegant. “I’m not sure about that anymore, Carley. Russell and I have been talking … perhaps we’ve put too much importance on being a Winsted. Certainly it seemed to cause Gus more pressure than anything else.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  Annabel rose. “Let’s continue this conversation on Sunday, shall we?” She seemed evasive and eager to have Carley leave.

  What’s going on? Carley wondered.

  Sunday it was just the five of them around the table. Russell grilled out one last time, barbequing chicken. Annabel stirred up the girls’ favorite casserole of macaroni and cheese. Carley tossed the salad and brought it with the bread into the dining room.

  For a while the conversation was normal, centering on the girls’ activities. Cisco sang the praises of Blue and the joys of mucking out stables. Margaret talked about her first-grade teacher, who looked like a fairy princess.

  When dessert was served—an apple pie Carley had baked—Annabel and Russell exchanged a glance laden with import.

  Then Annabel steepled her hands and announced, “Russell and I have an announcement. We’re going to Guatemala this winter with the church group. For six months. To help run their free clinic and build houses.”

  Carley put her hand to her chest. “I’m stunned.”

  Annabel raised an eyebrow. “We’re old, but still functioning.”

  “Annabel, don’t be silly, that’s not why I’m surprised. You and Russell have always been such homebodies.”

  Russell spoke up. “That’s why we want to go somewhere else. We’ve been told that one way to deal with grief is to help those in need.”

  “But the girls—”

  “I think the girls will understand.” Annabel looked at her granddaughters.