by Holly Rayner
His voice has an edge to it which I’ve never heard before. I know how much being in the public eye bothers Luca, and the more I get to know him, the more I see why. What he went through in his teens taught him about the dark side of the media. He’s felt the backlash from being the center of attention, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to experience it again.
“What should we do?” I ask him.
“I think we should get away for a little while,” Luca says. He passes me and paces to the bank of windows. As he looks out onto the street he says, “They’re all focused on the front of the hotel. If we slip out the back, I think we can get away unnoticed.”
The thought of getting away for a little while sounds good to me—much better than staying here in the hotel, afraid to leave because of the swarm of paparazzi outside.
I spoke to Nikki while Luca was out just a moment ago and asked her to keep the headlines about Luca and me away from Andy. I don’t care if strangers think I’m a criminal, but I never what my nephew to perceive me in that way. Nikki promised she would, but I know that if this kind of press coverage continues, there’s no way he’ll stay sheltered from it. His friends at school might start asking him about his “outlaw” aunt. I hate the thought that Andy would be put in a position where he has to defend me.
“I think getting away is a good idea,” I tell Luca. “I have a meeting with Marla on Wednesday morning, but until then it won’t matter if I’m not in the city. Where should we go?”
I’ve been standing a few feet behind Luca, and off to the side. He’s still standing at the windows, staring thoughtfully down at the street.
I cross the room and walk up behind him, looping my arms around his waist and then nestling into his side. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, leans down, and places a kiss on top of my head.
“I’m trying to think of a good place,” he says. “Somewhere rural would be good. The fewer people, the better.”
An idea strikes me, and I look up at Luca. “I think I know just the place.”
I slip out from under his arm and move over to the coffee table. I pick up my phone and type the words “Keyhole Lake” into the search bar.
Immediately, I’m rewarded with photographs of small cabins lined up along the shore of a peaceful lake. The cabins look exactly like I remember them. I grin as I return to Luca’s side and hand him the phone.
“Keyhole Lake,” I say. “It’s about an hour west of the city, on this little section of land that borders the state forest. We went there once with my mom when Nikki and I were kids. It looks like it hasn’t changed much over the years—these cabins look exactly how I remember them.”
Luca peers down at the photos. “Looks like almost all of them are available to rent,” he says.
I nod. “The lake won’t get busy until June or July. Until then, they’re probably just waiting for the summer season to start up. I bet we’d be the only ones there.”
Luca nods. “Perfect,” he says. “I’ll call ahead now and book one.”
“I’ll go pack some clothes for us.”
We part ways. I take the spiral stairs two at a time, excited by the prospect of escaping from the press and going on an adventure with Luca.
Soon I have two bags packed, and I meet Luca in the penthouse kitchen. We empty the fridge of the few groceries we’ve purchased: juice, water bottles, bread, a block of cheese, grapes, and a few apples and oranges. Then, with bags in hand, we step out into the hallway.
Luca leads the way to the elevator. When it arrives, he presses the button that will take us to the second floor of the hotel.
On the second floor, we make our way down several hallways. Luca pushes open a door that reveals a cement staircase. We descend and find ourselves on the ground level of the hotel’s massive parking garage.
“We did it!” I say happily as we hurry over to the rental car.
“We’re not out yet,” Luca says. He’s smiling, though, and I can tell that he knows we’re going to get away without any problems.
He opens the car’s trunk, and together we load it with our bags.
Once in the car, Luca navigates out onto the streets of Philly.
“Woo-hoo!” I say happily, as Luca picks up speed on one of the main avenues that lead away from Center City. “Now we really did it!” I roll down my window, and enjoy the feeling of wind whipping through my hair.
“They’ll probably camp out there all day, thinking we’re still inside,” Luca says with a laugh. He, too, rolls down his window. Then he presses a few buttons on the sound system, until we have a good road trip soundtrack pumping through the speakers.
Luca doesn’t know many of the American songs that play, and he laughs as I sing along to a few favorites that come on, joining in when he can.
We drive for a little over an hour, during which my cheeks get sore from smiling, and my abdomen gets a workout from laughing hard at Luca’s attempts at singing choruses that are new to him.
When we exit the highway, I pull up directions to Keyhole Lake on my phone. I lose the signal after just a few miles of driving, but it feels good to power off my phone and stick it into my purse pocket.
“I’m officially unplugging,” I tell Luca.
He chuckles. “Wow. No service! This place really is out there, hm?”
“Probably just not enough people around to justify cell towers,” I say. “When we came here on vacation when I was a kid, we went to this little general store every day. A cute old couple owned it, and they said that they were only open for five months… May to September, I think.”
We come to a fork in the road. A sign points right to Keyhole Lake.
As Luca follows the sign, I continue, “They said that in the winter, the roads don’t even get plowed. People take sleds or cross-country skis when they need to get to town. I think I’ll remember how to get there, once we get close.”
The paved road turns to dirt. As the car bumps along, I inhale the scent of pine trees and fresh, woodland air. The smog of the city is long gone, the air here crisp and clean.
“I know we only traveled an hour,” Luca says, glancing out of his side window and peering up at the towering pine trees that line the road, “but I feel like we’re in a different world.”
“I know what you mean,” I say happily. It strikes me that being in a different world is exactly what I need, at the moment. “It feels like we’ve just left all of our problems behind in the city.”
“Let’s,” Luca says, turning to look at me. He has a twinkle in his eye, that same look of playfulness that I loved about him when we first met in Westegaard. “Just for a few days—let’s leave everything behind.”
“I’m in,” I say, returning his gaze.
I turn away and emit a soft, contented sigh. I lean my elbow on the door so that my forearm is hanging out the open window. The day is sunny, but the air outside carries cool, refreshing undertones.
We pass a large boulder. A few deer are off to the side of it. Luca pulls over, and we watch them nibble the grass around the big gray rock.
When we pull back onto the road, I say, “I think the little town area is coming up—if you can even call it a town. It’s more like a few stores, a cluster of houses, and a tiny marina. Then, we’ll get onto another road that wraps around the lake. The cabins aren’t far from there. I remember that because of how many times Nikki and I walked into town to get ice cream bars.”
I laugh at the memory. Nikki and I used to wait until Mom fell asleep in the hammock out on the cabin’s front lawn. Then we would hurry down the dirt road to the general store. We’d use our saved-up quarters to buy ice cream bars.
We round a bend in the road and Keyhole Lake comes into view before us. The water is cerulean blue, with bright white dashes of light that dance across the surface. As we reach the cluster of shops and houses that is “town,” Luca slows the car down to a leisurely roll. Gravel crunches beneath the car tires as we both crane our necks, taking in our surroundings.
/> “How old do you think that sign is?” Luca asks, pointing to a faded orange sign above a row of defunct gas pumps.
“Older than me,” I say. I point to a log cabin, which has a porch that is half caved in. “What do you think happened there?” I ask. “Maybe it collapsed because of the snow?”
“Could be,” Luca says. “I bet they get a lot of snow around here. I’d love to see this place in the wintertime. I bet it would be so peaceful.”
“It’s peaceful now,” I say.
“It really is,” he agrees. He points to a little wooden sign that’s nailed to a tree. It has the words “Shore Drive” engraved in it. The lettering is barely visible and the wood is weather-worn and cracked with age. “Is that the road we want to be on?” he asks.
“Sure is!” I say. I hadn’t remembered the name of the road, but now that I see the sign, it comes back to me. “Shore Drive… wow. It’s been so long since I’ve even thought about this place.”
“How old do you think you were when you came here with your family?” Luca asks.
“Oh… I must have been about ten. We didn’t take many vacations, so it was a really big deal. I remember my mom got a summer bonus from her employer at the time. She was so happy and proud that she was able to take Nikki and me out of the city for a while. I didn’t know how to swim, and neither did Nikki, so mom spent hours every day with us in the lake, giving us lessons.”
“Did it work?” Luca asks. “Can you swim now?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say. “I haven’t been swimming in years, to tell the truth.”
I turn and look out the passenger window. The edge of the lake is just feet from the car. A thin band of sandy earth and tall grass is all that separates the road from the water.
As I look out at the sparkling blue water, I say, “Mom insisted on giving Nikki and I swimming lessons because she said that one of the best feelings in the world was diving off a dock into the water. At the end of the week, she said we could ‘graduate’ swim class if we dove off the lake. Nikki was so nervous that it took her almost an hour to work up the nerve to do it.”
“And you?” Luca asks.
I laugh. “I ran right off the dock and dove in headfirst. I got water up my nose, I remember, but my mom was right—it was a wonderful feeling. When I came up out of the water and looked back at the dock, Mom and Nikki were sitting on the edge, clapping for me.”
I close my eyes and have a clear vision of my mother and my sister, sitting on an old wooden dock that stuck out into the lake, their toes dipped into the water. Both were sun-kissed from the week we’d spent at the cabin. Mom wore her hair up high on her head in a bun. She was in a red bikini, Nikki in a bright yellow one-piece.
I remember how they smiled and cheered as I swam back to them. When I reached the edge of the dock, Mom leaned down and pulled me up out of the water.
The feel of the car slowing down causes me to open my eyes.
“This is it,” Luca says as we approach a row of about ten cabins, positioned on the shore of the lake. The first cabin has a sign out in front of it that says, “check-in.”
“I’ll go get a key,” Luca says once he pulls off the road and parks.
As I wait, I lose myself in a few more pleasant memories of my childhood visit to the cabins.
I remember that Mom had reserved the cabin at the end of the row. I had been excited that it was number ten, which was my age at the time.
When Luca returns to the car, he has a key in his hands. I eagerly eye the keychain as he sets the keys down in the center console and see that “#10” is written there in Sharpie.
I clap and give a squeal of delight. “You booked the same cabin that I stayed in as a kid!” I say.
“I had a feeling about it,” Luca said. “Something in me just said, ‘get the one on the end.’”
“I’m glad you listened to your intuition,” I tell him. “Oh! We could eat lunch out on the dock! We did that almost every day when I stayed here. Mom would pack up these cute little picnics…”
In my mind, I go over our supplies.
“We’re going to have to get groceries at the little general store in town,” I tell Luca, “but I think I can make up a lunch for us with what we have packed in the trunk. I’ll slice up the cheese and make a few sandwiches. Along with the fruit and waters, I think we can have a nice picnic.”
“That sounds perfect,” Luca says. “I’m starving.”
“Me too!” I say. It’s just past noon, but it feels much later. So much has happened for us today, already.
We reach cabin ten, and Luca parks the car in the small driveway. We each hop out of the car, and I grab our small bag of groceries from the trunk while Luca handles the two bags of clothing. I follow him up the steps and wait behind him as he fits the key into the door.
I hope there is silverware inside, so I can find a knife to cut the cheese with. I can’t quite remember if the kitchen was furnished or not.
I’m about to voice my thoughts to Luca when a sudden pain shoots through my abdomen. It shocks me so much that I release the bag in my hand and grab my stomach as I double over.
“Oh!” I say aloud.
Luca whirls around, and I feel his hand on my back. He’s just unlocked the cabin door, and I hear it creak open as he says, “Phoebe, are you okay?”
I stand, but as I do, the pain returns. It shoots through my core.
This isn’t hunger pain.
This is something else.
I remain stooped over. “I-I don’t know,” I stutter. “I haven’t had pain like this before. I don’t know if it’s normal.”
“Where does it hurt?” Luca asks, concerned.
“My stomach,” I say.
“Okay,” Luca says. “We’d better get you checked out. I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Do you think something is wrong… with the baby?” I ask, suddenly flooded with fear.
“I hope not,” Luca says. “It could be nothing, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Come on, let’s get you to the car.”
He releases me long enough to stash our bags inside the cabin, and then he closes and locks it. With his arm supporting my elbow, we make our way back to the car.
Instead of driving at a leisurely pace, as he did on our way to the cabin, Luca speeds down the dirt road, causing a cloud of dust and dirt to billow up behind us.
He makes a quick stop at the store downtown. When he returns to the car, he has a map in his hands. “I got directions to the nearest hospital,” he informs me as he buckles up. “It’s about a half-hour drive. How are you feeling?”
I search my body for sensations. After a few seconds I say, “Okay. There’s just a mild pain in my lower abdomen.”
Luca nods. “Okay. We’re doing the right thing. We’ll be there in no time.”
When we arrive in the emergency room, Luca leads me to a seat and then hurries to the front desk to talk to the staff. Within ten minutes, we’re being ushered into a small room with seafoam-green walls.
Medical equipment surrounds me. I feel frightened as the nurse wraps a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm.
“Is it normal to have pain like this during the first trimester?” I ask the young nurse, desperately wishing that Luca and I had thought to pack at least one of the books about pregnancy.
The nurse pauses before putting the ends of her stethoscope into her ears. “I really can’t say,” she tells me. “That’s a good question for when you talk to the doctor. Right now, I’m just going to get your vitals. Is that okay with you?”
I nod, and she continues her work. The end of the stethoscope is cool in the crook of my elbow. I try to stay still as she listens to the blood in my veins.
Luca is at the end of the bed, watching me. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and he keeps biting his lower lip. I can tell he’s just as concerned as I feel, though he’s doing a much better job of keeping calm than I am.
The nurse continues poking and prodding
me. After she’s pricked my finger for blood, taped a small contraption to the tip of my finger, and listened to my lungs and my stomach, she types up a few notes on a rolling computer. Then she pushes the computer through a gap in the curtains.
Before she closes the curtains behind her, she says, “A tech is going to be right in. The doctor ordered an emergency ultrasound for you, and we want to get it done right away. Okay, Phoebe?”
“Of course,” I say. “Whatever you have to do.”
She closes the door. Luca reaches for my foot and gives the top of it a gentle squeeze.
“Doing okay?” he asks.
I’m about to nod, but a sharp pain radiates through my stomach at that moment. I wince, squeeze my eyes shut, and take a deep breath.
“Hang on baby,” Luca says. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
His words calm me. I’m so very grateful that he’s here with me.
The pain passes just as the curtains part, and a female technician in navy blue scrubs steps into the little enclosed area.
“Phoebe Miller?” she says.
“That’s me,” I say.
“I’m Janice. I’m going to be giving you your ultrasound. Have you had one of these before?”
I shake my head. My fear intensifies. What if she does this test and finds out that something is wrong with the baby?
My throat constricts. The technician seems to be waiting for me to speak, but I’m unable to.
Luca comes around to the side of the bed and places his hand on my shoulder. Seeing my distress, he speaks for me. “She has one scheduled for next month. We didn’t know that we needed to have one done this early.”
The tech addresses Luca. “It’s not generally necessary at this stage. But seeing as Phoebe’s having some pain, the doctors want to see what’s going on in there. This is a safe, non-invasive way of doing that.”
She holds up a plastic wand that’s round on the end. “I’m going to put some gel on the end of this and then move it around on your stomach. It might feel cold, but it’s not going to hurt. Does that sound okay, Phoebe?”