After following the instructions on the HPT, I waited for the results. I sat in the stall trying not to stare at the stick. I was accustomed to doing this and the numerous disappointments that had followed, but I'd never seriously believed I was expecting until now.
I was amazed that it didn't take long for the thin line to appear and then darken to show that the test was indeed positive. I wasn't sure if I felt like crying or jumping for joy. The emotions that welled up in me threw me for a loop. I didn't realize it would hit me that hard. I'd been avoiding the confirmation that, in my heart, I'd wanted so badly.
Wrapping the stick in toilet paper, I slipped it back in my purse. I didn't want to throw it out. Maybe I'd save it to show Derek. I wouldn't need to show it to Carolyn. She'd know as soon as she saw my face.
I tried to keep a neutral expression as I went back to join her at the table. Both our plates had been cleared, and she was sitting there drumming her nails against the counter. It looked as if she had bitten a few of them. I realized she had been as nervous as I was awaiting the news.
“You'd make a terrible poker player,” she said as I sat across from her again avoiding her gaze.
“What happened to my food?”
“They're bringing a new plate. Don't avoid the issue. What's the verdict? No, wait, I see a smile peeking out the corners of your mouth. It's positive, isn't it?”
“Would you like to see the stick?” I pretended to open my purse.
“I believe you, Sarah. I would hug you right now and make a commotion, but those ladies over there might report us to the manager, and I really want you to eat before we get on the road again.”
I glanced in the direction she was looking. The grandmother and her friends were staring in our direction. “When did old ladies start bothering you, Carolyn?”
“When I realized I was getting close to their age.” She grinned.
The waitress arrived with my new plate before I could argue with Carolyn that she was a year younger than I was, and I'd already crossed the big 3-0 threshold of no return for women.
“Would either of you like anything else?” The waitress looked at me and then at Carolyn.
“No, thank you. I'd like to pay now while my friend finishes. We have to get back to our travels soon.”
The woman nodded and tore a sheet from the pad she kept in her apron pocket. Taking a pen from the same place, she jotted down our totals and passed it to Carolyn.
“I thought I was paying,” I said as Carolyn fished in her bag and took out her Visa handing it to the lady with the check.
“Consider this a congratulations breakfast. Now eat up, so we can hit the road and share the great news with your Aunt Julie.”
Heading south from the diner, the clouds thickened as if we were driving toward rain. Ironically, now that I had proof of my impending motherhood, I found it hard to believe.
“So, when are you going to tell Derek?” Carolyn asked as we took the exit on to the highway.
“I was considering tonight when I let him know I've arrived safely at Sea Scope, but I think that might not work. I'd rather tell him in person. It's not something you say over the phone.”
Carolyn laughed. “Are you kidding, Sarah? You know what I think?” She didn't wait for my reply but answered her own question. “I think we should pull over right now, and you make that call. Derek will be so ecstatic that he'll find someone to take over his all-important summer intensive classes and get his butt down to South Carolina.”
While part of me really wanted that, I was hesitant. “I don't know, Carolyn. It's early on a Saturday morning. Derek likes to sleep late on the weekend when he's not teaching. I usually get up hours before him and work in the studio. I hate to wake him. This can wait until tonight.”
“I disagree.” Carolyn was firm. “Derek probably can't even sleep without you. He's most likely awake and waiting to hear from you. It'll be a wonderful surprise.”
I knew there was no arguing with her. My cell phone was charging in the car's cigarette lighter. I removed it and turned it on. The screen read, “8:30.” “Okay. You win. He might be up already, but he won't be expecting my call this early. I might even scare him. He's a bit worried about us being on the road.”
“The worry will be replaced with joy. Believe me.” Carolyn was already pulling over to what I now saw was another rest stop. “I'm going to use the bathroom to give you privacy while you make your call.” She undid her seatbelt, turned to me, and patted my arm again. “Good luck, Mommy.”
I watched her walk into the McDonald's and then looked down at my phone. My fingers were shaky as I tapped the contacts list and brought up Derek's name. There were two phone numbers listed; his cell and our home number. Since it was early, Derek might have his cell phone off. I decided to call the home line. I pressed it and put the device to my ear, listening as the ringing started on the other end. I suddenly realized I was holding my breath. I released it and continued to wait for a reply. After several rings, I considered hanging up. He probably was still asleep. As I was about to press the “end call” button, there was an answer.
“Hello,” said a young female voice tentatively.
Oh, my God! I ended the call in shock. Tears welled up inside. I'd been right these last few weeks. Derek's sweetness at my departure was actually guilt. He had already moved his lover into our home.
By the time Carolyn got back to the car fifteen minutes later, I was sobbing into a wad of wet, pocket-sized tissues, the only ones I had on hand.
“Sarah,” she gasped when she saw me. “Honey, what's wrong?” She got in the car and handed me the napkins she'd gotten with the two muffins she'd purchased in the store. “Use these, for God's sake. I can go in and get more. I thought I'd pick something up for our ride, but tell me what happened? Why are you crying? Did you speak to him? What did he say?”
I took the napkins, ignoring their roughness as I blotted my eyes and blew my nose. “I didn't talk to him,” I explained, my words breaking like my heart. “Someone else picked up.”
As realization hit, her eyes widened. “Oh, no. Was it a woman?”
I sniffled and looked down at my lap. I'd wadded up the soaking tissues. “Yes. It's what I thought. He's having an affair with one of his students.”
“Sarah.” Carolyn reached out and rubbed my arm. “Don't jump to conclusions. Call back. I'll do it if you want. There's got to be another explanation.”
“No.” I fought to compose myself. “I've had a feeling about this for a while now. It's a common thing. Professor cheats on wife with young student. It's my fault.” I choked again. “I was so obsessed about having a child. I should've believed Derek that we didn't need fertility treatments. I shouldn't have let it build a wall between us.”
“Stop blaming yourself, Sarah. If he's cheating, and that's a big “if” right now, it's his own decision. He's the one responsible, not you. But let's say you're right—and I'm not convinced about that—once he learns you're expecting, that will change things. I'm sure he's not in love with this girl who picked up the phone.”
I took a breath and tried to calm myself. “I can't think of an explanation for a young woman answering our house phone at 8:30 a.m. on a Saturday. Can you?”
Carolyn looked away, and I knew the answer. “Okay, Sarah. If you don't want to call back now, we'll wait. He's expecting you to call from your aunt's house tonight. You'll ask him then before you mention the baby. There's no way he can tell that you called, right? You don't have caller ID or anything?”
I kneaded the wads in my lap like Rosy occasionally did the quilt I kept on the bed. “No. I didn't say anything, so the woman would probably tell him it was a wrong number.”
“Even so, he might think it was you. He might worry and try to call.”
I hadn't considered that. “I was going to turn the phone off again.”
“Don't.” Carolyn took the phone and placed it in the charger. “Let's get back on the road. You ready?”
&nb
sp; I tossed the wet tissues into the small trash area between our seats. “I guess so.” My heart was heavy. A part of me wanted to tell her to turn around and take me home, but I wouldn't be able to face walking through the door, smelling my husband's lover's lingering perfume, possibly finding her entwined with Derek in our bed. I feared our conversation. He was as bad a liar as I was, but men are always better at hiding the truth than women, in my opinion. I glanced out the window at the darkening skies as Carolyn maneuvered back on to the highway. We were both silent as we headed into the storm.
From the notes of Michael Gamboski
Drawing of the ancient lighthouse at Alexandria (Wikipedia)
The study of lighthouses is known as “Pharology,” named after the famed lighthouse of Alexandria. Pharos of Alexandria, the first known lighthouse, was built in Egypt between 300 and 250 BC and stood 450 feet high.
Chapter Nine
Sea Scope: Twenty years ago
Sarah was excited. Today was the Fourth of July, and she and Glen would be allowed to stay up late and attend the fireworks display by the lighthouse along with Wendy, Ms. Wilson's daughter. Even better, Russell, Mr. Donovan's son, would be joining them. He'd arrived with his father that morning, and they were staying through the weekend. It was always more fun when Russell came for overnight visits. Sarah's mother said Russell made a nice companion for Glen, but Sarah considered him more of her friend because they were closer in age. He was twelve, two years older than she was, and already attended Cape Bretton Middle School. She loved talking to him about lighthouses and the town's history. His father had written several local history books, and Russ was able to quote facts that Sarah would never learn in school.
She jumped out of bed and dressed quickly. It was only seven, but she never slept late even when school was closed. There was so much to do at Sea Scope. She enjoyed watching new guests arrive, helping Ms. Wilson prepare breakfast, and playing hide and seek throughout the inn with her brother. They always had to be careful not to disturb guests or they would be punished by their father or aunt.
After pulling on a t-shirt and jeans and slipping into sneakers, Sarah started to leave the room when a piece of folded paper fell across her path. She picked it up and opened it, immediately recognizing one of Glen's crayon clues. This one read:
You can find me in the room with the view of the lighthouse.
Sarah tapped on her brother's door with the message clutched in her hand. “Glen, let me in. I found your note. Mom's going to be mad at you if she sees this.” Sarah knew their mother didn't want them to interrupt Mr. Gamboski, the student from Cape Bretton University, who was spending time at the inn working on his thesis about lighthouses. Michael encouraged the children to call him by his first name. With dark straight hair and owl-shaped glasses framing a youthful, round face, he looked like a kid himself.
Glen answered the door on the third knock. “Quiet, Sarah.” He was still in nautical pajamas, a finger to his lips. “I'm in the middle of an experiment.” Her brother was a science nut. He liked nothing more than playing with the kits their father bought for him at the Exploratorium store in the Cape Bretton mall. He also collected additional sets from the science museum they visited once a week during the summer. The museum was within walking distance of the beach and close to the candy shop with its renowned salt-water taffy. It was also near the ice cream parlor with the best scoops in South Carolina, as Aunt Julie often claimed. They usually brought a backpack containing their bathing suits, towels, and sunscreen, so they could go on the beach after visiting the museum. Their mother said they could swim as long as a lifeguard was on duty. When they tired of the water, they could sit on the sand and watch the sea gulls swoop around or observe the other beachgoers. Before heading back to the inn, they would pick up a box of taffy to share and an ice cream cone each that they'd lick on their way home. The clothes they'd worn to the museum would be stuffed in their backpacks. Glen would have his wrapped around a new science kit. He wanted to hide it from their mother who said he made too much of a mess with the materials, but their dad encouraged his interest and even gave him extra money with his allowance to cover his museum visits and purchases from its gift shop.
Sarah stepped into her brother's room. Her eyes immediately noticed the large green spot by the bed that looked like goo. A glass beaker stood next to it filled with the same stuff.
“Oh, no. Glen, what are you doing? Mom will kill you.”
Her brother put on his guilty expression and answered in that whiny voice she hated. “I made slime. Wanna feel it?” He stuck his hand in the goo and began bringing it to her.
She backed away. “Gross. Don't touch me with that stuff. Where did you get the ingredients to make it?” Sarah knew most science kits didn't contain all the items needed for their experiments. The extra things were usually found in the kitchen or bathroom. Their mother would have a fit if she discovered Glen had used the alcohol, baking soda, or bleach from the inn's laundry room.
“I brought stuff in my room last night. I only took a little of everything. Mom won't notice it missing.”
“Maybe not, but Ms. Wilson will. She keeps track of everything here, and she'll know if something is low. She's alerted Mom to your stealing in the past.”
“It's not stealing. It's borrowing.” His voice was rising into a whine again.
“Borrowing means that you return what you took,” Sarah explained. “I don't see you giving any of that back, and who would want it now?” She stared at the beaker that looked like it contained watery puke.
Glen still had the slime on his hands, but he knew better than to stick it on Sarah. Once, he'd stuck gum in her hair, and Dad punished him for a week by having him mop all the floors at the inn.
“You better wash your hands and clean that up,” Sarah said in her big sister voice as she looked back down at the slime. “I want to find Russ and Wendy and go to the beach. The sun is starting to come out. Remember, tonight we'll all be seeing the fireworks. If Mom finds out what you did with your crayon clue or that goop, she may keep you home with her.” Their mother never attended fireworks. She said loud noises bothered her. The truth was that she was deaf in her left ear, so Aunt Julie said she was afraid of losing hearing in the right.
That got through to Glen. He took the beaker into his bathroom, one of the few at the inn that was connected to a bedroom. She figured her parents had given him that one on purpose. When he came out after running the water for a good five minutes, his hands were clean, and he held a wet sponge. He got down on his knees and scrubbed up the green blotch.
“Good,” Sarah commented as he stood up. “Let's go downstairs but put something on first.”
Glen went to the bureau next to his bed and took out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with a lighthouse print on it similar to the one Sarah wore. “Turn around.”
Sarah laughed. She'd seen her younger brother naked before, but she respected his privacy and did as he asked.
“Okay. I'm done,” he said a few minutes later.
She turned around. “You need to get rid of this.” She handed him the paper with his crayoned message. “You don't have any other copies around, do you?” It wasn't unusual for him to leave a bunch of identical clues throughout the inn.
“Well…” The guilty look crossed his face again.
“You're asking for trouble. You better retrieve those.”
“Why can't we just go to the beach? No one plays my game much anymore, anyway.” He pouted.
She loved her younger brother, but she hated when he acted like a baby.
“You can leave them if you want, but don't blame me for what happens. I know how you love the fireworks.”
“Can you help me get rid of them then? I'll tell you where I hid them.”
Sarah glanced at the Barbie watch her mother had given her for her tenth birthday. It was nearly 8:30.
“Ms. Wilson will be expecting us at breakfast soon. We'd better hurry.” On weekends, breakfast at the in
n was served from 9 to 10 a.m. each morning. During the week, it was served earlier between 7 and 8 a.m.
She and Glen scurried down the hall trying to be quiet. Even though their mother was partially deaf, Aunt Julie and Ms. Wilson made up for it with their cat-like hearing.
The children decided to split up to cover different areas. Glen had already filled Sarah in on where he'd placed the other notes. While their family had rooms on the east side of the inn, most of the guests stayed in the West Wing and a few slept downstairs. There was also a Honeymoon Suite at the end of the West Wing. Glen directed her back to the East Wing to retrieve the notes he'd left by their parents' and Aunt Julie's rooms. He assigned himself Michael's and the Donovans' rooms. They agreed to meet in the dining hall for breakfast when they were done collecting and throwing out the notes.
“One last thing, Glen,” Sarah whispered. “What did you leave in the Lighthouse Room? Do you think Michael will find it?”
Glen donned his mischievous smile. “That's the idea of the game.”
“Don't tell me it's that slimy goo?”
“I wouldn't do that, Sarah. Do you think I should get rid of it?”
“You'd have to go in his room.”
“I would knock first.”
Sarah considered. “You might wake him and, even if he's up, he could be taking a shower, dressing, or working on that big report he's doing for school.”
“Then I'll wait until he leaves the room. I'll do the others first.”
“Be careful.”
Glen nodded and slipped away in the other direction.
Sea Scope Page 5