by Miles, Cindy
Just the night before, he’d taken her to the movies in King’s Ferry. Let her pick the movie—something very girlie—and still, she was on her cell nearly the entire time. Texting her girlfriends back home, she’d said, when he’d asked about it. He knew she’d had a ton of them, so he didn’t question her any further.
When they did have a conversation, it was all about the baby, what kind of furniture they should buy. Eric really didn’t feel included. Just...present.
Even now, he sat in the parking lot of the doctor’s office while Celeste went in for a checkup. He’d wanted to go in, meet the doctor. Celeste had all but refused, saying she’d only be a second while they took her weight and a blood pressure check. She’d been in there less than twenty minutes, and she now walked toward him, out of the building. Her head was bent, texting friends.
“How does everything look?” Eric asked as she climbed into the truck.
“Perfect as always,” she said. “I come back again next Tuesday, if the baby doesn’t come first.” Once again, she bent her head. Texting.
“Do you want to go for a walk on the beach? We could pick up some Chinese for supper,” he asked.
“Beach, no,” she said. “Have you seen my feet lately? They’re bigger than yours,” Celeste huffed. “Chinese gives me total indigestion. Weird how pizza doesn’t but Chinese does. How about burgers? And can you drop me off at the house first?”
Without a word, Eric headed toward their rental. He couldn’t call it home, or a house. He’d been sleeping on the sofa since that very first night, and Celeste hadn’t complained once. It all seemed...phony. Fake as hell. Yet she also talked about marriage. Being a family. Empty words, it seemed. It was putting Eric’s brain in a tailspin.
Almost like one of her reality shows.
She did ask him to feel the baby kick, and that always fascinated him. That a baby could be crammed into that small space like that, and he’d come out screaming and kicking, a full-on mini person.
One thing that bothered Eric immensely: Celeste never wanted to go over to his family’s place. Not after the first initial meeting. She’d barely asked after Jep when he’d had his heart attack, and that was a week ago. Things weren’t right, and Eric knew it.
Not to mention, his own heart lay somewhere else completely.
When he pulled into the drive, Celeste hopped out.
“I’m going to run by and see how my grandfather’s doing,” he said. “I’ll pick up burgers on the way back.”
“Sounds good,” she said, walking to the front door. “See you in a bit.”
Eric watched her fumble with the lock, then let herself inside and close the door. With a hefty sigh, he backed out of the driveway and headed home.
Home. He’d always call the river house home.
Since Jep had come home from the hospital, he hadn’t been left alone. Today it was Matt’s turn, and Eric pulled in beside his car. Jep was on the porch in his favorite rocker, and Matt was just walking up the porch steps.
“Look at the riffraff blowin’ in here, would ya?” Jep grumbled. “Where’s that girl of yours? You come alone?”
That girl of yours.
Again. Right words. But felt wrong.
“Yeah, just me, Gramps,” Eric said. He leaned down and kissed the top of Jep’s white head. “How ya feeling?”
“’Bout as good as I look, which is pretty damn fair, if you ask me,” Jep answered. “Matthew here is being a pain in the ass, though.”
Eric just shook his head, and unavoidably, his gaze shot over toward the Quinns’ house.
“How’re things going with you, little brother?” Matt asked.
Eric shrugged, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “Going, I guess,” he said, and shook his head. “Nothing feels right, though,” he confessed. “My heart’s not in it. I’ve tried, but it just isn’t. Things just aren’t like they were before.”
“That’s because there’s a baby on the way,” Jep added. “Pregnancy does crazy things to women, trust me. I know.”
Both Matt and Eric gave Jep a sideways glance.
“How ’bout some cards out back?” Jep suggested. “I’m tired of sitting around doing nothing. Matthew here won’t even let me finish burning the leaves. Acts like I’m a damn invalid or some such nonsense.”
Matt took a deep, aggravated breath in but said nothing.
“I’ll play a round,” Eric agreed.
Matt ran inside to grab Jep’s deck of cards, and Eric walked with his grandfather around the back of the house to the dock, where he helped him to the table and chairs at the end near the dock house. Eric glanced over, and there on the Quinns’ dock sat Reagan, and his eyes drank her in. Not his to look at like that anymore, but damn if he couldn’t help it. She had a piece of him that would not tear loose, and he wanted to go to her, sit and laugh and talk with her, so bad it made his chest hurt. The sun had begun its descent, but was still high enough to bathe everything in gold. Although she was a few hundred yards away, he could still see her rolled-up jeans, a dark sweater and her hair pulled into a ponytail. Her legs were up, knees pulled to her chest, and she was staring across the water.
“Why don’t you just go say hi, little brother?”
Eric rubbed the back of his neck, shook his head and turned to Matt. “I think it makes it worse, man. It’s bad enough I think about her all the time. In my sleep even.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “She feels right to me, Matt. Celeste just doesn’t. No matter how much I try. It makes me feel like a schmuck of epic proportions.”
Matt grabbed Eric’s shoulder. “Then that’s something for you to think about.” He slapped his back and headed to Jep, who was setting up the card table.
Yeah. His brother offered very few words, but when he did, they were profound.
Eric felt torn. The thought of a child being raised by a broken set of parents went against everything he believed in or wanted. Yet no matter how much he tried to engage with Celeste, whatever old spark had been there was gone. And the fact that thoughts of Reagan plagued him only proved more torturous. He couldn’t see it getting better. Yet a child—his son—would be born within a week or two.
Yeah, he did have a hell of a lot to think about.
* * *
“I KNOW THAT EXPRESSION. What’s wrong?” Emily asked Reagan.
As Reagan eased into the booth at Jasper’s Old Time Creamery, she gave a winsome smile. “Eric brought me here.” Her smile deepened as her thought returned to that day.
Em’s warm hand covered hers and squeezed. “If you want to go, we can. I didn’t realize—”
“No, no,” Reagan insisted. “It’s...okay. It’s a great memory.” She squeezed her sister’s hand in return. “And it’s the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.”
“Okay,” Emily said hesitantly. “What flavor do you want?”
“A scoop of pistachio and a scoop of chocolate,” Reagan answered.
“Swell. I’ll be right back,” Emily said, and left to place their orders.
The past few days had been hard. Harder than usual. She was so excited over the sale of her paintings, yet thoughts of Eric had intensified—so much that she’d grown angry at herself for allowing so many thoughts to enter her mind. She couldn’t help it. Reagan had gone from mistrusting and gloomy to confident and lighthearted, and it was truly because of the connection she’d had with Eric. He’d provoked her. Pushed her. Forced her to trust him. And she had.
And then it had been taken away, just that fast.
Leaning back, Reagan felt the cool bench beneath her shoulder blades, and she inhaled, trying once again to re-create that day in the creamery with Eric. She still couldn’t determine that it was an ice cream store by scent alone. It was cool—borderline cold in the parlor. The tinny music played, and all it did was
bring back that day. That most perfect of days.
“Hi, Jasper!” a loud, bubbly voice carried across the room.
“Hi, how are you...” Jasper paused.
“Celeste? Eric Malone’s fiancée? I come in here at least four times a week and you don’t remember my name?” She giggled. “Shame on you!”
Reagan stiffened, and her heart raced. Celeste. Eric’s fiancée?
“Ahh, I hadn’t heard,” Jasper’s deep voice replied. “Any day now, eh?”
Again, the giggle. “Yes! Any day, and we can’t wait! It’s a boy, you know,” she informed. “I’ll have three scoops of chocolate, please.”
“Coming right up,” Jasper replied.
“We’re planning our wedding,” Celeste continued, unprovoked. “And looking at new houses!”
“Here you go,” Jasper remarked. “That’s great, Celeste. You take care now.”
“Thanks, bye!”
The bell at the door tinkled, indicating she’d left.
Eric had asked Celeste to marry him.
They were looking at new houses.
Somehow, and for some selfish, silly reason, Reagan had felt, deep inside, that something would bring them back together again.
She’d been wrong.
“Honey,” Emily said, and slid into the booth across from her. “Are you okay?”
Reagan forced a quiet laugh. “Em, I’m fine,” she answered. “Awkward, yes. But I’m completely fine. I mean, it is what it is.”
“I know,” Emily replied. “But it doesn’t have to mean I like it. Here’s your ice cream.” Em cleared her throat. “Funny, I haven’t heard anything about an engagement.”
“Thanks, but it’s inevitable, I guess,” Reagan said, and pushed her spoon into the top scoop. Pistachio. She smiled as the memory of her and Eric’s ice cream date surfaced, and spooned another bite. “So, let’s talk more about your decorations.” Reagan changed topics. Thinking about Celeste and Eric made her insides ache. “Your big day is getting closer and closer.”
“I know,” Emily answered, but her tone, her voice, carried a somber note that perhaps only Reagan could detect. The amount of love and loyalty that Emily had for her made her heart swell. She knew Emily wished more than anything that Reagan and Eric could be together.
Almost as much as Reagan did.
“We’re going to release lanterns over the river,” Emily said. “It’ll be just at dark, and the lanterns will be lit and the guests will release them, and it’ll be so perfect.” Emily’s voice perked up.
“It really will,” Reagan agreed, and imagined the evening sky filled with illuminated paper lanterns, like so many giant fireflies in the air.
Then her thoughts moved once more.
She couldn’t remain on Cassabaw. Not with Eric and his wife and son in such close proximity. Reagan wasn’t bitter. She wasn’t angry. It just hurt. Too much, like a deep, deep scar that could never heal. Not only did she live next door to Eric’s family, but the island was a small one. To try to avoid him and his wife and son would mean becoming a hermit. She’d come too far to retreat back into that dark shell of nothingness, where little else mattered except being angry over the loss of her sight, her life as she’d known it. No, she needed to remove herself from the equation. And luckily, she felt confident that she could do it. She had to do it.
Live on her own. Away from Cassabaw. From Emily. From Eric.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you’re leaving?”
Reagan and Emily sat on the veranda of the Windchimer. The hour was early, the sky lightening in anticipation of the rising sun. It was the end of the second week of September, and the mornings were a little cooler, and Reagan had slipped on a lined windbreaker, a pair of jeans and her favorite old sneakers. The sounds of the sea rolling in as it met land, the waves breaking and the gulls screeching settled over her. All familiar, all things she relished in life.
They were things she’d miss terribly.
Reagan reached for her sister’s hand and found it, and held it between both of hers. “I don’t want to be dependent, Em. On you or anyone else. I want to make it on my own, and for the first time since the accident, I really feel like I can.”
“This is because of Eric and Celeste, isn’t it?”
Reagan sighed. “Partially.” She turned her face to the ocean and felt the sun’s warmth there. “I don’t want to constantly be reminded of what I almost had by encountering them, sis. It hurts. No matter that Eric’s nobility caused his decision. It still hurts and I...just don’t want that constant reminder.”
“What’s the other part?” Emily asked.
“Well,” Reagan began. “You’re about to be married, big sister. The very last thing I want to be is a third wheel in a newlywed home. Eeesh.”
“You wouldn’t be!” Emily insisted. “Matt loves you dearly. I love you dearly.”
“And I love you both dearly, too,” Reagan argued. “But you both need your privacy. You need time alone, to experience life and go through all of those wonderful things together. Not have a little sister just down the hallway.”
“But—”
“My mind’s made up, Emily. I’ve already found a place, in Caper’s Inlet,” Reagan confessed.
“Caper’s Inlet? That’s over an hour away!” Emily said in frustration. “How on earth have you found a place? I’m not saying you’re incapable sister, but how?”
Reagan draped her arm over her sister’s shoulder and rested her head there. “Well, I’ve actually almost found a place. Mrs. Sails from the art gallery found a place she thinks I might be interested in. I was going to ask you to check it out with me, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Do you want me to be happy, too?” she asked.
Emily sighed. “Of course I do.”
“Then accept this,” Reagan said softly. “Say you’ll check it out with me?”
Again, Emily audibly sighed. “Okay, baby sister. I will.”
“And tell me what the sunrise looks like, will ya?”
Emily hugged Reagan fiercely, and kissed her on the temple. “My independent baby sister. Always so determined.” She kissed Reagan again and sighed. “There are lots of clouds on the horizon, just above the line of sienna that’s the sun trying to scream its arrival. The water is full of whitecaps. And there are dozens of sandpipers running all over the place, poking their long beaks into the sand.” She gave a light laugh. “Their little legs are going ninety miles an hour, or so it seems. And can I visit you at your new place?”
Reagan laughed. “Of course you can. We will have sleepovers, all the time.”
“Pinkie promise?” Emily’s hand found Reagan’s.
“Pinkie promise,” Reagan agreed, and hooked her pinkie around Emily’s.
As they sat there, though, Reagan’s thoughts strayed to what it’d be like to live totally alone. Not have her sister by her side on a daily basis. She’d done it in the air force, but now it would be tougher. Not impossible, just more challenging. Probably a little terrifying.
She’d just have to suck it up and prove to herself and the world she could do it. Because the alternative would be living on the same small island with a man she’d accidentally fallen in love with. And it was a man she couldn’t have.
* * *
“CELESTE? DID YOU hear me?”
Eric watched as she lifted her face, the illumination of her cell phone giving her a greenish color. She flashed him a smile. “Sorry. What’d you say?”
“I asked about your appointment with your doctor. It’s today, right?” he asked again.
Her eyes darted to her phone, then back to him. “Um, no. That’s Thursday.”
Eric sighed and rubbed his jaw. She’d told him the appointment was today. He’d marked it on the cale
ndar in his cell. “Is everything all right?” he asked her. “You’ve been...distracted. Pretty much since you’ve been here.”
She gave a small snort. “Well, of course I’m distracted, silly goose. Look at the size of this belly I’m lugging around!” She rubbed her stomach. “It’s not as easy as I make it look, Eric.”
Eric wondered how to approach the next topic. He knew the outcome wasn’t going to be a good one, no matter how distracted she’d been. But he’d heard a few things around town that disturbed him. His own heart was in turmoil. And it was time to confront her.
“Celeste, why are you telling people we’re engaged? That we’re planning a wedding, getting a big house?” he finally asked point-blank.
Her eyes flashed, and she lifted her chin. “Where did you hear that?”
“Does it matter?” he said. “You know we haven’t discussed any of that, and that we’re waiting until after the baby is born.” He shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck. “Why?”
She pushed off the sofa, the T-shirt she wore stretching tightly over her swollen belly. “Because it’s embarrassing to be waddling around here, knocked up and without a husband, that’s why!” she said angrily. “I thought we’d get married right away, as soon as I got here and you saw my condition, and you haven’t even brought it up!”
Celeste’s face was red with anger, and Eric held out a hand. “Calm down, Celeste, just calm down. You show up and drop a bomb in the middle of my life, and that after you broke off our previous engagement, and you thought I was supposed to just drop my life to fit your needs?”
“Yes!” she spat.
“Well, I did,” he said calmly. “My whole life had to change, and I did it so this baby wouldn’t have to suffer a broken home. But I have to be honest with you, Celeste. Something’s changed between us. Maybe it’s me that’s done the changing. Either way,” he continued, “I can’t live a lie. I want to be a part of my son’s life and do everything in my power to be a great dad, but I don’t think staying together is the right decision to make.”
Celeste’s jaw dropped. “You’re...breaking up with me? I’m pregnant, Eric! How could you think to do that?” She began pacing, anger radiating off her. “It’s because of that girl you were seeing, isn’t it?” She turned on him, finger pointing. “You’ve been sneaking around behind my back seeing her, haven’t you?”