When Christine headed toward the grill to grab a burger for herself, Susan drew her toward the side of the porch and said, “It’s so funny, isn’t it? I mean, I never would have imagined the two of us to take over what our parents did. Now, you and Zach will run the bistro, and Scott and I will run the Inn... it’s perfect.”
“It really is,” Christine agreed.
Susan’s bottom lip bounced for a moment, the only sign the entire day that any of this had been hard for her. “Honestly, if I didn’t have my sisters with me during this time, I don’t know what I would do. It was one of the first thoughts I had when I got my very first diagnosis. I just wanted you girls close.”
Christine’s eyes filled with tears. She hugged Susan, swallowing a lump in her throat, and murmured, “But you’re going to be okay. Right?”
“The doctor says my odds are fantastic,” Susan said, breaking the hug. “I am the luckiest bald woman in the world. I don’t feel crazy saying that, either.”
“Did you ever tell Richard about it?” Christine asked.
Susan shrugged. “I think the kids did. I got a message from him the other day asking if I ‘needed anything.’ I wanted to say something snarky back about how he’d never given me anything I needed, but I held back.”
Christine and Zach found space at one of the further picnic tables, toward the water. Zach had piled his burger outrageously high: with pickles and smears of mustard and vibrant purple onions.
“It’s not haute cuisine, but it is delicious,” he said. “In the sloppiest way, imaginable.”
“Your chin looks like a Van Gogh painting.” Christine laughed.
Audrey appeared on the other side of the table as Christine smeared a napkin across Zach’s chin. She clucked her tongue and placed backhands over her stomach. Naturally, it was still normal stomach size, with zero indication of the soon to be baby.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the future long-term babysitters of my child,” Audrey said.
Zach lifted his eyebrows. “Ah! So you’re the one.”
“Yes. I suppose I’m pretty famous around here,” Audrey replied. She slipped onto the bench across from them, placing a plate of what looked to be exclusively different kinds of potato chips on the table in front of her.
Christine made a mental note to talk to her about pregnancy nutrition. Now wasn’t the time, though.
“Should there be some kind of interview or something?” Zach said chuckling.
“Hmm.” Audrey placed a chip between her teeth and chewed the very edge. “That’s a great idea. Trying to think of a good question. Okay. Let’s say my baby is crying in the middle of the night. What song do you sing her to get her to fall asleep?”
“The baby is a she?” Zach asked.
“Just answer the question,” Audrey returned.
“Okay. It seems like a tough one.” Zach rubbed his palms together, imitating intense concentration, and said, “Okay. How about... Um. Taylor Swift?”
“Ding! I will accept this answer,” Audrey said. “As long as it’s her earlier stuff. Anything else gets a little too angry for late-night sleeping babies.”
Christine laughed as Zach snaked his arm over her shoulders, hugged her tight, and said, “Look, babe! We’re doing it! We’re passing the test!”
“Okay, okay. Here’s another one,” Audrey continued. “Will you let me come see her whenever I want to? And can I stay with you?”
“Of course,” Christine said. “Wherever we are, you are welcome at any time. You’re the baby’s mother.”
“Right. I’m her mother,” Audrey said.
“Again, very confused about how you know the gender already,” Zach said.
“Women’s intuition, of course,” Audrey said with a shrug.
The afternoon flooded into the evening. Christine and Zach and Audrey laughed together for plenty of it, with Audrey finding new “difficult” parent questions to ask them. Several times, Zach brought up the idea of adoption, at which Audrey screamed with excitement. Of course, to downplay that joy, she said, “But you’ll, of course, treat my girl as your favorite.”
“No favorites!” Zach said.
“Ugh. Fine,” Audrey laughed.
Christine had never felt so free in her life. As the night closed down around them, she placed her head on Zach’s shoulder and gazed out at the water. Fireflies danced through the night air, buzzing out their vibrant light and then whipping it back into their bodies. Like a child whom, generally speaking, she still was, and was still allowed to be—Audrey drew out her palms and cupped a firefly between them. She then drew it back, holding it so that her cupped hands became a lantern. She whispered something into her hands and then opened them apart so that the firefly flew away, free to cast its light across the night once more.
“What did you say?” Christine asked.
Audrey pressed her finger against her lips. “I wished for something. I can’t tell you what it is, or it might not come true.”
“Gosh, I missed these firefly nights,” Lola said, coming up from behind with a glass of wine in her hand. “It’s truly the most magical place on earth.”
Nobody spoke for a long time. All Christine could hear was the strong thud of Zach’s heart as she pressed herself against him: her rock, her love, the answer to her dreams. She clenched her eyes and cast a wish to all the fireflies.
Don’t let us lose each other again. Let us have eight thousand more nights, just like this.
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Firefly Nights Page 17