Lee stared into her daughter’s wet, beautiful brown eyes. “What is it?” she asked.
Lacey took a breath. “I think I might be pregnant.”
16
The ceremony was at noon, but Abby couldn’t honestly say who would show at this point. After the events of last night, the only people who seemed certain to appear were the minister and Sam. Both Lee and Caroline had promised to meet her at quarter past eleven by the cabstand, but, so far, there was no sign of them. Abby wanted the men and women to arrive separately at the beach. The element of surprise—Sam seeing her for the first time in her dress—was something that Abby still looked forward to, even after all these years. Given the current circumstances, however, her insistence on decorum seemed downright comical. A bomb might as well have exploded in their merry little band.
Last night, she’d bumped into Lee in the hallway as she helped a wobbly Lacey back to the cabin. From the looks of it, Lacey would be nursing a vicious swollen ankle this morning. Who knew if she could even walk on it? As for Caroline, she seemed to have gone completely AWOL. Aside from Lee’s assurances that their friend was doing okay, Abby hadn’t seen Caroline since she left on the back of a moped with Javier yesterday. Had Caroline read him the riot act? Abby wondered. Meanwhile, Chris, grounded in his cabin, had been granted release for this afternoon only.
Abby clenched her fists into tiny balls, recalling her son’s bravado of last night. Sam had talked her down off the ledge eventually (well, maybe to the midpoint of the ledge), but really, had they taught their kids nothing? Chris knew better than to go off drinking. Sam excused it as a flight of fancy, nothing more than a teenager and his hormones getting the best of him. Wouldn’t you rather have him try this stuff out when we’re around? Sam had pressed. I’d rather he not try on certain girls while he’s at it, Abby had huffed in reply.
But none of that mattered today. At least, that’s what she told herself while she’d coaxed her hair into a bun earlier this morning in her cabin. She would not dwell on the events of the last twenty-four hours because today was supposed to be her day. Their day, if she were being precise. The day that they’d all been sailing toward. One afternoon to celebrate all that was good in their lives, to toast twenty years of marriage and friendship, and a family that, on most days, was pretty wonderful.
As she stood on the corner, holding a cab for the others, her mind flashed back to twenty years ago. Sam had fainted, and even here, standing on the steaming pavement in her white flip-flops, Abby could conjure up the dread she’d felt, like a phantom limb, when Caroline rushed out of the church to tell her the news. And yet, if Abby had learned anything during twenty years of marriage, it was that you adapted to the circumstances. You worked together to make things come together.
So, that was that. No matter what the universe threw at them today, she and Sam would reaffirm their vows. Let chaos reign—they had each other to hold on to. And even if rogue bully cells insisted on coursing through her veins, Abby Bingham was here today, fully alive and wearing a brand-new Badgley Mischka dress. Every day is a gift, she’d heard enough times, a sentiment that typically struck her as trite. But even she was beginning to see that there were shades of truth to such maxims.
In her hand she clasped the navy hankie that Caroline had given her so many years ago (something blue) and blotted her forehead, already wet with perspiration. The hankie, worn soft from years of her taking it out of her dresser drawer and fingering it like a talisman, was the one thing Abby had kept close by from her wedding day, whereas everything else—the dress, the dried flowers, a copy of the invitation—had either been donated to Goodwill or stuffed in a box somewhere in the attic. She liked to rub her finger across the nub of her monogrammed initials, AMB, as she had on her wedding day, a faithful reminder to stay calm.
“Just one more minute,” she pleaded with the cabdriver, who didn’t seem to care how long the meter ran before anyone stepped foot in his taxi. “They should be here very soon.” She ducked her head into the cab for a brief moment, letting the cool air conditioner blast her skin, then pulled away and shut the door. If Lee and Caroline had any hope of seeing her, she needed to plant herself on the curb. A stray strand of hair broke free from her updo, and she tucked it behind an ear.
Despite the heat, it was a beautiful day for a wedding, the sun beaming down and a bright blue sky overhead. Weeks ago, when Abby had called the hotel to inquire about rates, the wedding coordinator had suggested an eight-piece band and a parquet dance floor set down on the sand. Abby had hurriedly explained that theirs would be a bare-bones affair, an anniversary celebration, not a wedding. How about flowers? the coordinator pressed. Oh, we should be all set. Abby thanked her. I’ll get some locally once we’re on the island. (The last thing she wanted to do was spend hundreds of dollars on flowers when they blanketed Bermuda.) She’d settled on a simple white tent and chairs on the beach with a celebratory lunch at the hotel to follow.
Abby performed a small twirl in her dress. “A breezy elegance” was how the saleswoman at Nordstrom had described the ivory chiffon, and Abby agreed. She was in love with this dress. No, besotted with it. Even more so than with the gown she’d worn twenty years ago. That dress, while elegant, had left angry red cinch marks across her waist, as if hinting that grace did not come naturally to her. Funny, Abby thought, how it had taken her twenty years to settle on a style that matched her very being.
At last, she spied Caroline hurrying down the ship’s ramp in tight little steps, holding her dress above her flip-flops. Lee and Lacey trailed behind while Lacey limped along. Abby felt a smidge guilty about pulling Lacey off the ship with a sprained ankle. Nevertheless, everyone looked lovely. Caroline floated along in a diaphanous lime-colored dress that she’d had tailored to her specifications in New York. Lee wore a lavender sheath dress, and Lacey had chosen a simple sundress, the color of plums. Abby clapped her hands together appreciatively—the three of them could have been flowers in her bridal bouquet. Lee, the fragrant lilac; Lacey, the delicate periwinkle. And Caroline, the sturdy, green stem.
“Abby!” Caroline waved as they bustled toward her. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She leaned in to hug her. “You look gorgeous, like you’re twenty-six all over again. That dress is to die for!”
“Why, thank you.” Abby did another twirl and grinned. It was the first time her friends had seen her in it, and she felt as pretty as Julia Roberts. “It’s kind of fun to be a bride at forty-six. Much less pressure.”
“That, and you have a pretty good idea whether or not the marriage is going to last,” Lee added. “That’s helpful.”
“Right!” Abby laughed. She stopped for a second, worried that maybe no one else in their gang was in the mood for levity, but her friends just smiled back at her, as if the calamities of the last twenty-four hours were but a dream. “You okay?” she asked Caroline quietly.
“You bet,” Caroline said. “Couldn’t be better.” Abby was dying to know what was going on with Javier, but she didn’t dare pry. She was afraid she might not like the answer. Instead, she focused on the obvious.
“Lacey, honey, how’s your ankle? Are you okay to walk?”
“Of course, Aunt Abby. I wouldn’t miss this.” She lifted the hem of her dress to better show off her black walking boot.
“Oh, kiddo. That looks like it must hurt.”
“It’s not so bad,” Lacey said with a shrug. “But doctor’s orders that I have to wear this ugly boot. Sorry if it ruins your pictures.”
“Don’t be silly,” Abby scolded. “I’m just relieved everyone could be here.” She hesitated a moment. “Well, shall we get going, ladies?”
They piled into the car as best they could without wrinkling their dresses. Abby buckled herself into the front seat, excitement splashing over her. Finally! Everyone was here. She could feel the knots in her stomach untangling: all was forgiven. For the next few hours, everyone would be well behaved. They’d better be.
Abby stared out
the window as the island whizzed by. After all these years, she could honestly say that she loved Samuel L. Bingham even more than she had on that sultry summer day on the Cape. But it was a different kind of love, one that had mellowed over time, one that swam a smoother line. Abby had come to realize that they were well suited as a couple, two currents balancing each other out. They complemented each other. That was the word she’d searched for when trying to explain it to the boys the other day.
The girls were chattering in the backseat when Caroline suddenly called out, “Wait! Stop!” The car lurched forward, then slowed and thumped over to the road’s shoulder. “Sorry, but I just spotted a flower stand back there. Abby, do you want to check it out?”
Abby twisted around for a better look. “Sure. Why not?” She’d been meaning to grab fresh flowers for the ceremony after all. The three of them made their way across the pebbled shoulder to the modest stand, which was thick with flowers stuffed into coffee cans. They reminded Abby of fireworks, only prettier.
“Oh, Abby, look at these.” Lee thrust a sprig of purple blooms with tiny yellow centers into her hands.
“Gorgeous,” Abby agreed. “They even match Lacey’s dress. They’re perfect.”
“You’d like some Bermudiana?” the seller asked. He smiled, revealing a front tooth capped in gold. “Bermudiana is our national flower.”
“Well, in that case,” said Abby, “we’d better take a whole bunch.” She combed through the other greenery, landing on a cluster of tiny white flowers haloed by a wreath of waxy green leaves. “How about this one? Frangipani, I think?” The fruity scent was familiar.
“Yes, it smells like peaches, right?” he asked.
Caroline took it from Abby and inhaled. “Oh, my gosh. That is the most delicious scent! We have to have some of this, too. Our friend is getting married today,” she said by way of explanation and passed him the flowers. “Could you make her a bouquet?”
The seller’s eyes flickered to Abby for a moment, and she felt compelled to explain. “For the second time. Renewal of vows.”
“Ah, different wedding, same husband, right?” he said, as if reading her thoughts, and began to clip the stems.
“That’s right,” Abby confirmed with a laugh. She watched while he tenderly plucked the leaves and arranged the flowers, as if filling in a paint-by-number. It was no secret that the locals made most of their money from tourism, but even that couldn’t explain such genuine thoughtfulness, such care. A few minutes later, he handed Abby a clutch of purple and ivory blooms. “It’s beautiful,” she said, taking the arrangement from him. “Thank you.”
“And these are for your friends.” He passed each a small bouquet banded together with a thin green ribbon, nearly the same shade as Caroline’s dress.
Lee pulled out a wad of bills from her beaded clutch to pay. “Thank you. They’re perfect.”
“Wait.” He held up a finger. “One more thing.” He plucked a lavender orchid and came out from behind the table. “May I?” He gestured toward Abby’s hair.
Abby glanced at her friends and wondered if it might be best to let one of them place it but nodded anyway. With a simple sleight of hand, he gently glided the flower behind her left ear. “Now you are ready. A goddess.” He nodded, pleased. “God bless.”
“Okay, thank you!” Caroline called over her shoulder, suddenly in a hurry to get them back to the cab. “Hustle, hustle, ladies! We don’t want to be late.” Abby had completely forgotten about the time. She grinned as she cradled her bouquet in one arm and held up her dress with the other hand—Caroline still had a little bit of the wedding coordinator left in her after all.
17
Below the cliffs, Lacey could spy the shimmering beach, the white thumbprint of a tent set on the pink sand. Thank God, she whispered to herself. She was wedged against the car door and, at the moment, solely focused on keeping the contents of her stomach—a bagel and coffee—firmly in place. Tossing her cookies all over her periwinkle dress would be a decidedly uncool way to start the wedding. But Bermuda’s winding roads, like a corkscrew, were pushing her luck. Also, her foot ached. Oh, and the fact that she might be growing a baby inside of her wasn’t helping either.
If nothing else, Lacey knew she should be grateful for the distraction of the vows ceremony this afternoon. She was happy for her godparents—twenty years of putting up with someone else’s crap and managing to stay in love was pretty remarkable. She wondered if she and Tyler would make it to twenty years, assuming they got married. When she’d texted him on the island yesterday, it had been only to say, Having a great time but I miss you sooo much! It was too complicated to delve into anything deeper in a text. Besides, she wasn’t totally sure yet that she had any news to report.
Today’s ceremony also meant that her mother couldn’t scream at her for at least a few more hours. This morning, Lee had handed her a glass of water and the painkillers that the ship’s doctor had prescribed. “Here, take these. They should help your foot.”
Lacey had replayed last night in her mind a million times, but she still didn’t know what her mom was thinking. After she’d confided that she might be pregnant, Lee’s eyes had widened, and Lacey had thought she might slap her. But then she’d pulled Lacey into a hug. “Oh, Lacey, my dear, sweet girl,” she’d said. A few minutes later, Lee had asked, “Are you sure?” and Lacey had shaken her head. “No. I’m late, though. Seven days—a whole week—and I’ve never been this late before.”
One thing Lacey was sure of was this: she was grateful for what her mom hadn’t said, like pointing out how Lacey had let her down or asking if Tyler was the guy or posing weird, unanswerable questions such as How could you? The only thought even more worrisome to Lacey than being pregnant was the idea of disappointing her mom. Lacey knew she wasn’t always nice to Lee, but she also recognized that her mother had pretty much devoted her life to making sure Lacey turned out all right. It was a huge sacrifice—Lacey got that. In fact, she worried she couldn’t possibly be as devoted a mom as Lee was.
Instead of saying what was surely darting through her mind at the time, though, Lee had sat with Lacey and watched as her foot ballooned. “Well, okay,” her mom had said finally. “First things first. That ankle is just getting bigger, even with the ice, so let’s have the ship’s doctor take a look.” And that was that.
Later, after the doctor wrapped her ankle and fitted her with the appropriate size walking boot, her mom had asked to speak to him privately in the hallway. Lacey suspected she was alerting him to the possibility that her daughter might be pregnant so he could take it into account if he were prescribing painkillers. Whatever he’d given her, the medicine had knocked Lacey out shortly after they retired to their cabin.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” Lee had said when she tucked Lacey in last night, like the little girl she had once been. “I don’t want you to worry.” But then they’d woken up late, and it had been a rush to make it into the shower and to the cab. There had been no time for a heart-to-heart.
“We’ll figure everything out after the ceremony,” her mom had whispered as they left the ship this morning. Lacey was surprised. She’d been expecting Lee to strangle her when she told her the news last night. At least for the moment, she supposed, they could both pretend it wasn’t real. Once Lacey took the pregnancy test that the doctor had given her mom last night, though, that all very well could change. Both she and Lee had agreed: Lacey would take the test after Abby’s ceremony.
When they pulled up to the beach, Lee climbed out first and came around to her side to help. “Here, wrap your arm around me,” she coached, and Lacey hoisted herself out of the car, shifting her weight onto her mom’s frame. Slowly, they followed Abby and Caroline down to the beach. A short, stocky man, a white collar circling his neck, was waiting for them under the tent. Already, the sun felt blistering hot on Lacey’s bare shoulders.
The minister stepped out of the shade to greet them. “Well, hello! Abby, you’re absolutely glow
ing. And your friends are as well! But goodness, what happened to you?” He pointed to Lacey’s black boot.
Lacey smiled.
“Our girl had a small injury yesterday. Twisted her ankle,” Abby explained. “But she’s a trooper. She insisted on still coming.”
“I’d say so,” said the chaplain. “Well, good effort by you!”
“Is it okay if we sit till the others get here?” Abby asked.
“Oh, of course! Sorry. Here let me grab you a chair.” He carried a folding chair over to Lacey and helped her get settled comfortably before checking his watch. “Shouldn’t be much longer till your other half arrives. It’s quarter to the hour.”
“Is it crazy that I just got goose bumps?” Abby shivered in the heat.
The chaplain chuckled. “Not at all. I’ve had people tell me that a renewal of vows can be even more nerve-racking than the wedding itself.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Abby pulled out a creased sheet of paper from her purse and handed it to Caroline. “I was hoping you could read this poem for the ceremony? Sorry not to get it to you sooner. I gave Lee’s to her last night, but when I stopped by your room, no one was home.”
Caroline smiled weakly and took it from her. She’d been in her cabin when Abby knocked last night but hadn’t had the courage to answer. “Of course. What a nice idea.”
Just then, the sound of a car horn cut through the air. When Caroline turned, she saw all the men—Sam, Chris, Ryan, and Javier—heading toward them. “Woo-hoo!” Sam called out, jogging down the beach. “Where’s my beautiful bride?”
A few sunbathers turned to look, wondering what all the commotion was about. When Sam reached Abby, he pulled her in for a kiss.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to kiss the bride until after the vows!” She swatted at him.
“Aww, c’mon. I couldn’t help myself.” He took a step back. “You look stunning.”
The Summer Sail Page 15