by Terri DuLong
“Not a word.”
He glanced inside the house. “Well, she certainly seems to be enjoying herself. I’m glad it went so well with Jason and John.”
I followed his glance to see Fiona standing between my boys, talking to Bella and Sydney, throwing her head back and laughing, and felt a smile cross my face. “They really have hit it off well. I’m proud of my sons for accepting her as they have. I think I did the right thing having her come here to meet them and spend the holidays with us.”
I felt his arm around my shoulders as we headed back inside and heard him say, “I know you did the right thing.”
45
By Tuesday morning, my mother’s house had resumed the pre-Christmas quietness. Bella and the boys had left to return home over the weekend, and as I sat in the kitchen sipping my first cup of coffee, I recalled how well the visit had gone.
It had been wonderful to spend some quality time with Bella. We’d managed to slip away on Friday to walk around downtown together and have lunch while the boys continued their visit with Fiona. Friday evening I was able to spend time alone with the boys on the patio while Bella and Fiona went for a walk around the neighborhood with the dogs.
The boys were sincere in their fondness for their newly found half sister. Phone numbers and email addresses had been exchanged with a promise to keep in touch. It made me feel good that both of my sons displayed concern toward me, questioning if I was really okay with everything that had transpired. I assured them I was.
All of it had gone well—very well—and I was relieved. The only thing nagging at me was the fact that Fiona had not made any mention of when she might be returning to Boston. And today I was moving into my new home.
I looked up as she entered the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said before heading to turn on the kettle for her tea.
“Sleep well?”
“I did. And you?”
I nodded. “Yes, and a good thing, too, because it’ll be busy today moving into my new place. The movers are due at the house around noon.”
“You must be so excited. I bet it’s really nice.”
With Christmas and the company, I hadn’t even had a chance to take Fiona over to show her where I was moving.
“I am a bit excited. A new venture, and yes, I think the house will be ideal for me. You can go over with me later.”
“Oh, I’d love to see it. Yes, you have a lot to look forward to with the house and then opening the needlepoint shop.”
I almost said, With a baby on the way, you also have a lot ahead, but I refrained from saying anything.
She poured steaming water into her mug and joined me at the table. “Worth seems like a very nice man.”
“He is.”
“I like him. Is he different from my father?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
She took a sip of tea before answering. “Well, from what I learned from Jason and John, Andrew was a good dad to them, but . . . it seemed like he could also be reserved. Maybe not all that outgoing. Worth is just so friendly. He made me feel really welcome here, just like you and the boys have.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I think Worth is quite a bit different than Andrew in that respect.”
“Did you love him?” she blurted, and then said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I have no right to ask you that.”
“It’s okay. Yes, I did love him, but sometimes, over the years, things change. People change. Yet we keep going on.”
She nodded, like she understood. “I don’t think my mother ever loved him.”
I was surprised by her honesty. “Why do you think that?”
She shrugged. “I think my mother was a very self-contained person. Oh, I’m sure she was attracted to my father, but . . . I just don’t think she really loved him. I think if she had, she would have allowed us to have a relationship, but she denied both of us.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened in my own marriage if Andrew had sprung a daughter on me years ago, when he was still alive, when our boys were still young.
“Would you have liked that? Maybe coming to visit your father a couple times a year or having him go up to visit you? Do you think it would have changed anything in your life?”
Fiona thought about this for a few minutes and then said, “I’m not sure, but I’ll never know, will I?”
By six o’clock the bulk of moving in had been completed. Without the help of Chloe, Grace, Sydney, Monica, Suellen, and Fiona, that never would have happened.
I finished arranging glasses in my cabinet and glanced over to watch Fiona emptying the last box of kitchen linens and filling the closet. I had enjoyed having her with us all day. In addition to being very helpful, she had been pleasant to have around. I could tell that my friends also enjoyed her company.
“Time to eat,” Chloe announced, walking in with large boxes of pizza.
“Perfect timing,” Grace said, coming from the bedroom area. “I just finished unpacking the box of towels for the bathroom.”
“You guys are so great,” I said, uncorking a bottle of Beaujolais. “Thank you all so much.”
Sydney, Monica, and Suellen came into the kitchen. “The bed in the guest room is all done up,” Suellen said and eyed the pizza. “Oh! Food! I’m starved.”
I laughed and joined them at the table. “Would you like soda, Fiona?”
“I’ll get myself some ice water,” she said, causing me to acknowledge that since she’d arrived she had not expected to be waited on.
We all dug into the pizza, creating sounds of pleasure as we ate.
“So how long do you plan to be on Cedar Key?” Suellen asked between mouthfuls.
Fiona had been with me a week, and there had been no word as to when she might be leaving. I silently thanked Suellen for broaching the subject.
But when I glanced across the table, I could tell Fiona felt uncomfortable.
“Oh, well . . . um . . . I’m not sure,” she said, throwing me a glance.
“Right.” I took a sip of wine. “As you know, Fiona’s pregnant, so she’s not in college at the moment, and the restaurant let her go a few weeks ago, so . . . she really has no commitments to return home immediately.”
I could have sworn that was a look of gratitude she shot me.
“Well, that’s really great. So you might even still be here when Marin opens the needlepoint shop, and of course that will call for another party,” Chloe said, causing all of us to laugh.
“Are you a knitter?” Monica asked. “Because we meet at the yarn shop on Thursday evenings, and you might want to join us.”
“Oh, really?” I could tell by the expression on her face that she was pleased with the invitation. “I do knit.”
I was surprised to learn this. “Oh, I had no idea.”
Fiona nodded. “Yeah, there was an older woman who lived next door to us. She taught me when I was around ten. My mother didn’t knit at all, so I was lucky I was able to learn so young. I do have my knitting with me, but we’ve been so busy I haven’t touched it yet.”
“That’s great,” I said, reaching for a second slice of pizza. “Well, you’ll definitely have to come with my mother and me on Thursday evening.”
“What are you making?” Suellen asked.
Fiona paused before answering. “A baby sweater.”
Monica nodded. “I knitted a lot when I was pregnant. Good thing too—ending up with triplets.”
All of us laughed except Fiona, whose face had paled. “You have triplets?”
“I do,” Monica said. “Two boys and a girl. They’ll turn four in February.”
“Oh, my goodness! How on earth did you handle three babies at once? I’m not sure I’ll even be able to handle one.”
I reached across the table and patted Fiona’s hand. “Of course you will.”
“I did it with a lot of help. Believe me, if not for most of the town pitching in to help, I wouldn’t have gotten through it. My family and friends were grea
t.”
Monica abruptly stopped talking, as if realizing that Fiona was returning to the Boston area and would be alone while raising her baby. And as if realizing the same thing, Fiona also remained silent.
To break the uneasiness, Grace said, “But I don’t think you have to worry about triplets. Or even twins. You’re due in May? Gosh, you’re not that big at all. You should have seen Monica at four months along.”
We got off the subject of babies and moved on to other topics.
By the time we finished up the pizza, Fiona seemed more herself.
I got up to begin loading the dishwasher and said, “You guys need to scoot on home. It’s New Year’s Eve, for goodness’ sake. I’m ashamed I kept you here so long.”
“Yeah, right,” Chloe said. “Like I had any big plans tonight.”
Suellen laughed. “Same here.”
Sydney brought glasses to the dishwasher. “Noah and I are just going to have a quiet evening with a bottle of champagne at midnight.”
“And Adam and I will probably be asleep by ten,” Monica said, causing us to laugh.
“Lucas has a nice bottle of French champagne for us, but I can’t promise I’ll last till midnight either.” Grace began wiping down the table.
“Well, most of you have men waiting for you,” I said, pushing the button on the dishwasher. “And I’m not throwing you out, but . . .”
“And what about you?” Chloe questioned. “Where’s Worth tonight? It’s your first New Year’s Eve together.”
It was, but he had been so understanding about my move and having my friends help me.
“He knew we were having a moving-in party, and . . . well . . . he’s over at the Faraway. We’ll see each other tomorrow. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” I heard Fiona say, and all of us stared at her. “Could one of you drive me back to Dora’s house, please? I can stay there tonight, and Marin . . . you need to get on the phone and call Worth. It’s only eight. Tell him to come over and spend New Year’s Eve with you.”
Before I could protest, the six of them grabbed their belongings, gave me hugs and kisses, and wished me a Happy New Year, and they were gone.
I was left standing in the middle of my kitchen floor, a huge smile on my face, as I reached for my cell phone.
46
I awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the curtains and Worth beside me. Girlfriends are the best, I thought. They know precisely what we need, and since Worth and I had hardly seen each other in a week, being able to spend New Year’s Eve with him had been very special. But I also thought of Fiona because it had been her idea to return to my mother’s house and allow Worth and me to have some privacy.
During the week that I’d come to know Fiona, I had discovered that I liked her. This wasn’t all that surprising, because I had known from our brief telephone conversations that she seemed like a nice person. What had surprised me, upon meeting her, was that I felt a connection to her. This was silly, because we weren’t related by blood—as she and Andrew were. But there was something about her that drew me closer. Something that made me want to know her better. I sighed as I felt Worth stir beside me. I realized that I’d probably never have that chance, because before too long she’d return to the Boston area, have the baby, and get on with her life, and although she’d stay in touch with Jason and John, I might not ever hear from her again. Just before I felt Worth drape his arm across my body and whisper, “Happy New Year,” I experienced a sense of emptiness.
“Those pancakes and grits were delicious,” Worth said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“I’m glad you enjoyed them.” I got up from my stool to grab the coffeepot and refill our cups.
I felt his arm slide around my waist as he placed a kiss on my cheek.
“That was pretty considerate of Fiona to suggest you call me last night.”
“It was,” I agreed before returning to my stool.
“You seem quiet this morning. Everything okay?”
I shot him a smile. “I’m beginning to think you might know me a little too well.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” he asked, causing me to laugh.
“I guess I’m just feeling unsettled—about Fiona. I thought maybe when I mentioned the money that Andrew had provided for her she would tell me she’d be heading back to Boston soon. I told her yesterday morning that I’d be signing those documents, that I felt the money was rightfully hers and I was sure between having the baby and going to college that she’d put it to good use.”
“And what did she say?”
“Thank you.”
“That was it?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that was it. No mention about when she planned to leave.”
“Hmm,” was all I heard Worth say.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Did it ever cross your mind, Marin, that maybe she doesn’t want to leave?”
“You think she might want to stay here? With me? Why would she want to do that?”
“Because she’s alone. Because she has no family in the Boston area. From what I’ve seen over the past week, Fiona likes it here and she likes you. I think she feels happy and secure. Your own family and friends have accepted her and have made her feel welcome.”
Now it was my turn to say, “Hmm,” as I pondered what Worth had just said.
“How would you feel about that?” he asked.
“About having her stay here permanently? I don’t know. I never expected this might be a possibility when I invited her to come for a visit. I do like her. She’s a nice person, easy to be with, and she’s certainly a wonderful houseguest.”
“I think you need to give this some serious consideration, and then . . . you need to have a talk with Fiona. Put it out there. Tell her if you feel comfortable allowing her to stay here on a full-time basis, and if you do, you both will need to agree on the arrangements.”
I nodded. Worth was right. “I think I might enjoy having her here with me, but even more important, I hate the thought of her returning home with nobody to give her support. If she weren’t pregnant, I wouldn’t be as concerned. But . . . having a baby alone is not easy, and that’s another thing—I’m not sure that I agree with her about not even letting the father know that she’s pregnant. I understand her reasoning, but . . . I’m just not sure it’s the right thing to do.”
“Then you have to be honest with her. Tell her how you feel and explain why you feel that way. Don’t forget, Marin, she doesn’t have a mother to walk her through this, to give her some guidance.”
Worth was right again. Not only did Fiona not have a mother—she also had no father in her life.
The following week Fiona and I were in my kitchen baking cookies for the opening of my needlepoint shop the next day. I still hadn’t broached the subject with her about any plans to leave, but after more thought, I hoped she would choose to stay.
“So do you think you’ll have a lot of people at the grand opening?” I heard her ask.
I continued to spoon chocolate chip cookie dough onto the Teflon sheet and nodded. “I’m sure all the women that you met last Thursday evening will be there and a lot of locals. We’ll probably also have a fair amount of tourists dropping in.”
Fiona continued pressing a round cookie cutter into dough she had spread out on the table. “They’re a really nice bunch, aren’t they? All the women at the knitting group.”
I laughed. “For the most part, yes. As you noticed, Miss Raylene can be a bit condescending.”
“Yeah, but I liked her. She’s feisty. She wasn’t the least bit shy asking about my pregnancy and then going on about being an unwed mother in her day.” Fiona laughed and shook her head. “I suppose women in her age-group find it difficult to accept how much society has changed and become more accepting.”
This girl was definitely mature in her thinking. “You’re going to make an excellent nurse,” I said. “You have great insight.”
“I hope that
insight helps me as a new mom too.”
I slid the cookie sheet into the oven, wiped my hands on a towel, and said, “Time for a break. How about a cup of tea?”
“Sounds good. Let me just get these on the cookie sheet and in the oven with yours.”
I set the timer on the oven, turned on the kettle, and placed a few of the peanut butter cookies we’d made earlier in the morning on a plate. “It’s so nice outside. Let’s have our break on the patio.”
Fiona and I enjoyed the warm January air as we sipped our tea.
“It’s so pretty out here,” she said. “So the house is called Safe Harbor? I like that. I like the comforting sound of it. That a house can represent security and family.”
My gaze was caught by movement in the air near the shore, and I felt a chill go through me. Dragonflies. The dragonflies were back, hovering near the water.
“Didn’t you have that sense of security and family growing up in your house?” I asked.
Fiona nibbled on a bite of cookie. “Being an only child was always tough. Nobody to play with, share secrets with, build a history with. But not having a father around made it even tougher, I think. My mother always worked, and when she was home, she was wrapped up in her own life. Oh, don’t get me wrong—she was a good mother. And I did all the kid things, ballet lessons, piano lessons, gymnastics, summer camp. But my mother didn’t have a job; she had a career. So a lot of her time at home was spent grading papers, doing research, that sort of thing. Sometimes we did things together, but not often. She was a good mom, but we just didn’t have a close mother-daughter relationship.”
A twinge of sadness went through me. It sounded like while Fiona had had a good childhood, she also had had a lonely childhood.
“How do you think she would have reacted to your pregnancy?” I asked. “Do you think she would have been supportive or angry?”
Fiona let out a chuckle. “I don’t think she would have been angry, based on her own situation. She probably would have been supportive, but I don’t think she would have been too excited at the prospect of becoming a grandmother. I really don’t think she was that fond of children, to be honest, and I used to sometimes wonder why she kept me. It would have been much easier to give me up for adoption, especially since she didn’t include my father in my life.”