Just Breathe

by Susan Wiggs

  “She never asked?” Sarah looked mystified.

  “Plenty of times,” he admitted, waiting for the water to boil. “But I never had the answers.”

  The most recent drawing came from her seventh grade art class. It was a nearly photographic rendering of an abandoned stone cabin burned out by the Mount Vision fire, its broken walls hunched against the lush renewal of the landscape.

  “I bet she knows more than you think she knows,” Sarah said.

  He nodded. Sometimes, that was what scared him the most.

  Part Five

  Thirty-One

  With each passing week, Sarah came to depend on Will more and more. His friendship had grown to mean that much to her. And that friendship was at risk, because she kept wanting it to turn into something else.

  While getting dressed for her baby shower, she heard a dull boom. She dismissed it as a rumble of thunder or a jet overhead, but the crescendo of a siren touched her spine with ice. Instantly, she thought of Will. What had happened? Was he hurt?

  Moving as fast as her ungainly body would allow, she finished dressing, then scooped up her handbag and keys and headed to town. Black smoke was pouring from a structure at the shoreline. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to this, to the idea that every time disaster occurred, a firefighter was put in danger. She used to take these men and women for granted until now. Until Will Bonner.

  It was his job, she reminded herself. His routine. The calling he’d discovered one eventful night in Mexico. Still, the idea of Will in harm’s way made her skin tingle with fear for him.

  When she arrived at the site of the fire, he was nowhere to be found, and she felt awkward asking about him. She did anyway, though.

  “Captain Bonner’s off today,” said a volunteer firefighter. “Took his daughter up to Mount Vision.”

  Sarah felt an intense flood of relief. She cared about him so much. It was hard work, trying to keep her heart closed like a bud resisting the warmth of the sun. But she knew it would be even harder to let Will and Aurora into her life while she was still raw from the pain and devastation of her ruined marriage.

  “Is everything all right here?” she asked.

  “No one was hurt. It was an abandoned boat shed, hasn’t been used in years,” the volunteer said. “The arson investigators will have to come and check things out.” He gestured. “His partner’s over there, if you want to talk to her. She’s doing an extra shift, subbing for someone.”

  Sarah scarcely recognized Gloria Martinez in her gear. She was leaning halfway into the cab of the engine, yelling something on the radio. “Maybe later,” Sarah said.

  As she drove along the head of the bay, she glanced at the clock in the car’s console. There was enough time to drive up to Mount Vision and still get to the shower on time. She didn’t question the sudden, bright, foolish urge to see Will. She just acted on it.

  She took the twisting upward route to the scenic overlook parking lot. There, she spotted Will’s truck and a group of people clustered around, putting on sunscreen and filling water bottles. She pulled off and rolled down the window.

  Aurora hurried over. “Hey, Sarah.”

  “Hey, yourself.” She turned off the car and opened the door. Getting out of the Mini with thirty extra pounds of pregnancy was a challenge these days. To her embarrassment, she couldn’t quite manage.

  “Let me give you a hand,” Will offered, joining them.

  She placed her hand in his. With a gentle pull, he helped her out. “Thanks,” she said, flustered as she always seemed to get around him. As time went on, the attraction intensified, though she kept telling herself she was being ridiculous. “Pretty soon I’m going to need a block and tackle to get myself around.”

  Aurora’s gaze traveled from Sarah’s untreated hair, over her protruding breasts and abdomen and down to her swollen ankles. “Whoa.”

  “Thanks,” Sarah said.

  “You look good,” she said quickly.

  “I look like a human Winnebago,” Sarah said. “It’s all right. Not much I can do now but wait and satisfy my weird cravings for Roquefort ice cream and fried pierogies. I figure if my career as a cartoonist fails, I can always moonlight as a fertility goddess.”

  “On the National Geographic Channel, they always show them nude,” Aurora pointed out.

  “Which explains why I never watch the National Geographic Channel.” Each day, the babies were becoming more and more real to her. She was getting to know their little quirks, like the way they stretched or got a case of the hiccups. Thanks to the team of specialists monitoring her pregnancy, she was a walking medical encyclopedia. Yet rather than demystifying the gestation process, her knowledge only deepened the magic of what was happening to her.

  “You’re all dressed up,” Aurora observed.

  “April Cornell meets the tent maker,” Sarah said, eyeing the fabric draped over her mound. “My grandmother and great-aunt are giving me a baby shower at their house.” The very idea of a shower, with a group of friends coming to celebrate her pregnancy, was incredibly gratifying.

  “That’s cool,” Aurora said.

  Will excused himself to look over a topographical chart with the leaders of the work crew.

  Something in Sarah’s eyes must have betrayed her as she watched him walk away, because Aurora said, “So did you come all the way out here to tell us you’re having a baby shower?”

  “You’re welcome to come, if you like, but you’d probably be bored.” Sarah flexed one swollen ankle, then the other. “There was a fire down at the head of the bay. It’s under control, though, and no one was hurt.”

  Aurora ducked her head. “That’s good. If they’d needed Dad, they would have radioed for him. We’re fine, you know,” she added sharply. “Why wouldn’t we be? My dad’s off duty. And even if he wasn’t, he’d still be fine. He’s a professional firefighter.”

  Sarah bit her lip, knowing Aurora understood the risks involved in his job and knowing, too, that she sensed the undercurrents between Sarah and Will. Aurora glanced over her shoulder at the kids putting on Day-Glo smocks. “I have to go.”

  “Off to restore the wilderness?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll pick you up right here at four,” Will said, rejoining them. “Wear your sunscreen and watch out for poison oak and sumac.”

  “Got it, Dad. Bye, Sarah. Have fun at your baby shower.”

  Sarah watched Aurora run off to join the work party. “Good for her. Her friends are probably home gaming on their computers while she’s out saving the forest.”

  “I’m not sure her motives are that pure.”

  Sarah saw Aurora talking to two boys as they headed for the trail. She recognized the older one from the ice-cream shop in town. “Zane Parker. The one she has a massive crush on.”

  “She told you that?”

  “She actually used the word massive. Who’s the other boy?”

  “Zane’s younger brother, Ethan.”

  Even from a distance, she recognized Ethan’s unrequited yearning as he followed along behind Aurora and Zane. Welcome to the club, kid, she thought.

  “She’s growing up too fast,” Will said. “She’s not ready to be hanging around with boys.”

  “You mean you’re not ready.”

  “I mean she’s not. She’s still just a kid.”

  Sarah touched his arm. “It’s a supervised crew.”

  He leaned back against the car, watching the members of the work crew fan out across the mountain meadow. Within minutes, Sarah and Will were the only ones left in the parking lot.

  She looked up at him, and her pulse sped up.

  “What are you staring at?” he asked.

  “You.” She could hear the hum of bees through the wildflow
ers, the rustle of the wind through the reeds and birds twittering in the meadow grasses.

  “Why?”

  “I’m trying to make up my mind about something.”

  “About what?”

  What the hell. When your stomach was the size of a third-world country, you could get away with saying anything.

  “About whether I have a massive crush on you or if it’s just hormones.”

  He laughed. “You can’t tell the difference?”

  “I found my alarm clock in the refrigerator the other day and have no memory of putting it there. Lately I’m questioning my own judgment.”

  “I’m not. My judgment is sound. I have a massive crush on you, too.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Oh, shit is right.” He smiled amiably enough.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know, Sarah. I honestly don’t.”

  “The timing couldn’t be worse,” she said.

  “Sure, it could. At least now, we’re both single.”

  “Almost,” she said, wishing her impending divorce were final. “What will Aurora think?”

  “She’ll hate this...if we do anything about it.”

  “She doesn’t like you dating. And people might think it’s strange.”

  He grazed his knuckles alongside her cheek. Sarah took in a breath, her skin burning beneath his touch.

  He lowered his hand. “I’ve never made choices according to what people think, Sarah.”

  I have. She didn’t know how to trust herself at all anymore, or what she had to offer. She was still sorting through the aftermath of her marriage, trying to figure out who she was all by herself again. According to the experts, which included the people in her support group and all the self-help books she’d consulted on surviving divorce, this was her crazy time. Maybe he was part of her crazy time.

  “Not even your daughter?” she asked Will.

  “Not even her.” He braced his hand on the side of the car.

  She had an urge to lean against him, to know what he felt like. She wondered what the dark curls of his hair would feel like between her fingers. Then she noticed him looking down at her with an expression she had never seen on his face before. His stare lingered on her mouth, and she found herself measuring the distance between them in heartbeats. One...two...fewer than three.

  She became unmoored from who she was and her place in life. She shifted, or maybe she was pushed by the salt-scented wind, and she leaned into him, whispering his name. The moment shone with a peculiar clarity, as though reflecting the sea light in the late afternoon.

  Things were about to change between them, permanently and irrevocably, assuming he felt the same way she did. So there it was. A choice to be made. A decision. A part of her desperately wanted to avoid making it at all. Will was the best friend she had. They shared everything. Could she risk losing that?

  “Will...” She said his name again, louder this time. The cool air seemed to press against her skin.

  Then, just as it appeared that he was as caught up as she, the twins stretched and kicked, reminding her she had someplace to be. The mooring line went taut. “I have to go,” she said, and retreated from the moment.

  He hesitated, and she found herself half wishing he’d carry her off like a caveman and satisfy every yearning in her hormone-drenched body. Instead, he held open the car door for her. “Drive carefully.”

  She didn’t leave right away. Something was happening between them, and they’d both be lying if they denied it. “Do you think it’s possible for us to simply be friends?”

  He stared at her intently and was quiet for so long that she grew uncomfortable.

  “Will?” she prompted.

  “No,” he said at length. “No, Sarah, I don’t believe that’s possible.”

  Her pulse sped up. It was the answer she dreaded. And the one she craved. “Then what are we supposed to do?”

  “I guess we’re doing it.” Once again, he offered his hand and this time, she took hold and lowered herself into the driver’s seat.

  All during the drive to her grandmother’s, she felt out of sorts. She needed to learn to stand on her own for once in her life. She had no business falling for Will Bonner or anyone else. She was going to have to let him go, before she ever really had him.

  * * *

  Gran and Aunt May went all-out for the baby shower, which was held on the wraparound porch of their house at the edge of the bay. The tables were festooned with flowers, and the eaves had been strung with twinkling lights of colored baby shoes. There was a cake decorated with two cradles and a spread of food that made Sarah wish she had more room inside her.

  For Sarah, the greatest surprise and deepest pleasure was the group of women who had gathered—Birdie, Vivian, Judy, LaNelle, Gran, May, their garden club friends. Gloria and her partner, Ruby, arrived late, after Gloria’s shift was over. Everyone’s gifts were so thoughtful, but what affected Sarah the most was the outpouring of goodwill she sensed from the women. When Gran proposed a toast with sparkling apple juice, Sarah took the opportunity to speak.

  “I came back home with my tail between my legs. I thought I had this perfect life and I felt like a failure when it ended. Now I’ve got a home, thanks to Aunt May, mornings at the White Horse, evenings with the Fairfax group, an almost-final divorce, thanks to Birdie, my lawyer...” She rubbed the small of her back. “This is starting to sound like an Academy Awards speech.”

  “And the thirty-second light’s blinking,” Aunt May said with a wink.

  “I just want to make sure everyone knows how grateful I am. I don’t think I’ll ever again jinx my life by saying it’s perfect, but I know I’m going to be all right.” She touched her stomach. “We’re going to be fine.”

  “Hear, hear,” declared Gran, and everyone clinked glasses and settled into the cushioned white wicker furniture while Sarah ripped into the gifts. Her doctor had offered to tell her the sex of the babies but she didn’t want to know, which drove her friends crazy. She received everything from the practical—a three-month supply of diapers—to the whimsical—two pairs of tiny Keds, hand-painted by her grandmother.

  Sarah was touched by how special everything felt to her. The day itself seemed to glow with possibility. The women talked about everything—the commission for a sculpture Judy hoped to get from a Napa winery, Birdie’s upcoming bicycle race, Viv’s latest home improvement project. As usual, Gran and May were busy with a community project—a knit-a-thon to raise money for the senior center. Gloria and Ruby announced that they were going to have a commitment ceremony, and everyone raised their glasses of sparkling apple juice.

  “So soon?” asked Vivian. She had been friends with Dean who, only the year before, was married to Gloria. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve waited for her all my life,” Gloria stated.

  “Good for you,” Aunt May declared.

  Sarah looked around at the women and listened in amazement to their chatter and laughter. These were her friends. Their good wishes surrounded her like a comforting embrace. At the end of the afternoon, she found Gran and May in the kitchen, hand-washing the heirloom china.

  “I owe you an apology,” she told them. “I used to think all your gatherings and meetings were pointless. I was wrong. I get it now.”

  “It’s lovely of you to say so, dear,” said Gran, polishing a lemon platter. “We’re terribly lucky that you’ve decided to come back,” Gran explained. “Your babies are such a blessing in our lives.”

  “I’m counting on you to give them lessons in being twins.”

  “We’ll start the moment we meet them.”

  Sarah touched her belly, where the skin itched. “Dr. Murray says every day I go over thirty-six weeks is a day closer to a plain, uneventful birth in lab
or and delivery. Which is the goal, even with twins.” She heard the sound of a car door slamming.

  Gran and Aunt May shared a look. “Why don’t you go and see who that is?” Gran suggested.

  Sarah went out to the front porch. Her gifts had already been boxed and loaded into the back of the Mini, and she had been looking forward to going home and putting her feet up. “Hey, Dad,” she said. “You missed the party.” She grinned at the sheepish expression on his face. “You planned it that way, didn’t you?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “You want some cake?”

  “Maybe later. There’s one more gift.” He held out a large, flat box.

  “You bought me a shower gift?”

  “I’m not saying I bought it.”

  Mystified, Sarah took a seat on the wicker chaise. She untied the ribbon, lifted the lid of the box and gasped. There was nothing she could say. For a moment, she couldn’t move. There in the box lay a luxurious folded shawl, handwoven from yarn spun by her mother. She knew it was her mother’s work. It had that signature blend of softness and strength she spun into every strand of yarn, the deep color of a just-opened peony.

  “I figured you’d get plenty of baby blankets,” her father said. “This is for you. From me...and your mother.”

  “Oh, Dad.” Sarah’s hands shook as she plunged them into the box and filled them with her mother’s softest tropical cashmere. She brought the blanket to her face and inhaled, fancying she could sense her mother’s subtle essence embedded in the strands of wool.

  “The piece was on her loom, wasn’t it?” she asked her father, her voice breaking.

  “That’s right. Couldn’t bring myself to touch it for years. Maybe it was just waiting for the right purpose. I had Florence from the yarn shop help me finish the thing. It’s pretty obvious where the weaving changes.”