Violet knew she’d overreacted the second she walked out of the warehouse. Damn it. What right did she have to expect Matias not to mend fences with Lawson? He was being an adult, and she should support his efforts. But hiring him?
Crossing her arms over her sweatshirt, she hurried back to her apartment. This was not how she’d pictured tonight going. She’d thought she and Matias would bring his take-out dinner back to her place.
He could take a shower after his long day of construction. She could join him. They could while the night away. Maybe in front of the TV. Maybe in her bed.
But now...she wasn’t in the mood. She was too raw, too off-kilter, to even think about sex.
She entered her apartment and headed straight for the corner of her couch. She dropped her purse on the floor. Falling into the soft oasis, she pulled a blanket around herself and hugged her knees.
Her phone buzzed in her purse.
Grumbling to herself, she retrieved it. She always had to answer—it might be a client.
Not this time. Matias’s text was simple: Can I call you?
Ugh, she was too tired to talk. It was barely six o’clock, and she was ready for sleep. Maybe she would. She always told her mamas to listen to their bodies, and hers was telling her to rest, even though it was long before her usual bedtime.
Tomorrow, okay? she typed, adding, I’m not trying to avoid you. I’m really wiped. It was a long day.
His reply came quickly. Damn it. Did you wear yourself out, doing me a favor? You should have told me it was too much.
The urge rose to deny his worries, even though he’d thrown her for a loop. It wasn’t.
And then you walked in on Lawson and me. I’d like to explain.
She sighed, then replied, And I’d like to listen. But I’m going to bed. I have an early appointment tomorrow.
I thought you had the morning off.
No. I squeezed Renata and Grant in.
It was the easiest way for them both to come, and she knew it was important for Renata to have her partner there. Worth coming in early enough for Grant to make the morning ferry to his office on San Juan Island.
She headed for the bathroom for a relaxing bath, then pampered herself a little with her fanciest body cream and a gel mask.
He didn’t text back until she was slipping into her softest pair of pajamas.
I’ll be at the brewery around 10.
Her thumbs hovered over the screen before she shot off a promise. I’ll come find you.
At 6:55 a.m. the next morning, Violet let herself into her clinic, in time to cast a welcoming glow on the space before Renata Chang and Grant Macdonald arrived. She put the water on to brew a pot of tea, as much for her as for Renata. Her friend was almost seven months pregnant, far beyond morning sickness. Violet, not so much. She’d fought her queasy stomach for an hour this morning before finally being able to get out of bed. Ugh. She was really hoping not to be one of the “lucky” people who experienced nausea after the first trimester.
Or maybe it’s nerves from yesterday.
Needing fresh air, she cracked open the window of the patient room to let in the spring breeze, and then connected her phone to the speaker to play a quiet, lo-fi mix. Guilt struck her. She wasn’t thinking of client comfort as much as she was her own. Her nausea made it hard to think about anything other than her own needs.
She’d promised Matias she’d come find him, but the thought of being around the yeasty, malty funk made her throat tighten. She needed to talk to him, though, even though a run away, run awaaaaay urge twinged at the back of her neck.
The couple arrived right on time, Renata bustling into the front entrance first, with Grant close behind. Renata was leading with her belly these days. The glassmaker was wearing a dress colorful enough to complement one of the beautiful platters she had for sale in the gift shop at the center of Hideaway Wharf. Shades of turquoises and purple swirled over her round belly. Her aqua-colored glasses coordinated, as did the wide claw clip holding up her long black hair.
Violet’s chest tightened as she watched the other woman’s careful movements. She’d never been far enough along for one of her pregnancies to affect her own gait.
Her body was clearly remembering parts of pregnancy—she was almost at what she’d call a bump, and was thankful for flowy shirts and leggings to hide it—but she’d never been far enough along to look like Renata. She wanted so badly to waddle. Even if it meant aching hips and round ligament pain and electric shocks in her pelvis. Having to brace herself as she squatted and to lean on Matias like Renata was doing with Grant would be a gift, because all those things would mean Violet was still carrying a growing, healthy baby, and her body was doing its job to support and shelter her child.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
Damn it. She could get weepy on her own time. Right now, her client needed her to stay present.
Especially as she studied Renata’s face a little more closely. She was smiling, but her face, normally a light sandy-brown color, was pale.
“Are you feeling okay, Ren?” Violet kept her own smile in place, but her mama meter was edging into the red zone. Thankfully she had as much time as she needed this morning to discern if something was off. She was still keeping a close eye on Renata’s blood pressure, which had trended low since the first trimester. “Coming down with something?”
Renata shook her head and held her forced cheer. The brightness halted long before it got to her eyes.
Hmm.
Grant fussed around his wife, doting as he always did when he managed to attend appointments. He offered her his arm, and she clung to it as she toed out of her shoes. The pair spent their spare time out on their sailboat whenever they could, and it showed in the blond streaks in Grant’s hair and his golden tan.
It wasn’t possible to grow up on the island without running in the same circles, and the Macdonalds and Renata’s mom were friends with Violet’s parents. One of her favorite parts of being a midwife was ushering in the next generation, especially for people she knew when they were all kids themselves. It was so cool to see Renata and Grant excited about their newest adventure together.
“Come get comfy,” she said once the couple had shed their shoes and spring jackets. “I brewed herbal tea. Isla custom-crafted me a new mint-and-echinacea blend.” Oyster Island’s resident goat farmer had a side gig growing and drying herbs. She also happened to be Lawson’s sister, but Violet didn’t hold the family tie against her. The siblings had fallen out when Lawson left, and Violet felt partly responsible for the rift in Isla’s life. “Or I have water with lemon.”
Renata’s smile wavered. “Tea. Please.”
Face lined with concern, Grant whispered something in her ear. She sloughed him off.
“He won’t stop worrying about my low blood pressure,” Renata said lightly.
“Are you lightheaded?” Violet asked. “Tired?”
“Yes, but I’m resting. Eating smaller meals. Staying hydrated. Following all your instructions.” Renata went into the appointment room and eased onto the couch.
Jenny had given Violet similar advice, which she had not followed yesterday. Probably why her queasiness had been more severe this morning. Apparently “physician, heal thyself” applied to midwives, too.
But not in the middle of an appointment. Were the next six months going to be like this, getting distracted by her own needs?
“Tea. Right. Tea.” Oof, she had to do better than this. “Let’s get you some, and then figure out what’s got you off-kilter.”
She took her time with them, monitoring Renata’s vitals and measurements. Listening to the heartbeat was extra special, given it had been a couple of months since Grant had heard it.
Made her think she should use the Doppler to listen to her own baby’s heartbeat in advance of her next appointment with Jenny on Monday. It would blow Matias’s mind.
Then again, if she didn’t manage to locate the rhythm...
No. There would be a heartbeat. Her first round of prenatal screening had come back reassuringly typical. Relax. Seriously.
With a shake of her head, she refocused on the two people patiently sitting on her exam couch. She calmly reminded Grant how there were no red flags in Renata’s follow-up tests concerning her blood pressure.
His face was taut. Not entirely convinced but trying to believe.
She knew the feeling well. “Where’s your head, Grant?”
“It killed me to watch her faint in the first trimester,” he said, holding his wife’s hand between both of his. “Especially because we were out on the boat, so far from help. I got conditioned to panic. And now, I know we don’t have to be as concerned because we know what’s going on, but it’s still hard not to catastrophize. I...” He shot Renata a shame-tinged look. “I’m having a hard time enjoying the process. I worry something will go wrong. Especially with having to work on San Juan for part of the week. I board the ferry, and it’s all I can do for the rest of the day to trust Ren and the baby will be okay.”
He cupped Renata’s stomach and let out a long breath.
Renata put an arm around his shoulders and leaned in close, kissing his cheek and whispering something.
“I know, babe, I know,” he murmured, ducking his head. “I do trust you. Your intuition floors me. But I’m the first to admit I like to be in control. And this—it’s so out of my control.”
I’m having a hard time enjoying the process.
Well, ouch.
A tear dripped down Violet’s cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.
Hold it together.
Renata paled even more. “Is there something we don’t know?”
“Oh, no!” Way not to sound assuring. “I would never hold anything back from you. I just... Grant’s words resonated. It’s easy to be frustrated with all the unknowns.”
“I bet you see it all the time,” Grant said.
“I’m living it,” she blurted. Her stomach sank. “I mean, lived it. Not now. Before. Lawson and I... We struggled to start a family,” she said. “It’s normal, what you’re feeling, Grant. I feel—I mean felt—it, too.”
She wiped at her eyes again. “But don’t worry—it’s not the same thing you’re dealing with. All the strategies we went over at the last appointment—Renata, you’ve done great with those. Keep at it. And on days like today, when you’re feeling a bit off, give yourself extra TLC.”
“Violet...?” Renata wrapped the question in a comforting tone.
She ignored the gentle prod. “Carve out some time for each other this weekend. Snuggle in the hammock in your yard. I can’t say enough about the mindfulness podcast I recommended a few months ago, too. Make more tea and breathe some fresh air. The weather looks beautiful. I mean, wind from the northwest. Can’t beat that. And no rain for at least a week—”
“We’re on it,” Grant said.
Ugh, thank goodness he’d cut her off. Rambling about the forecast? Ouch.
“Do you need to follow your own advice?” Renata asked, her dark brown eyes concerned.
“My own advice?” Her heart rate soared. Had they figured it out? She wasn’t ready to say anything. Needed at least a few more weeks, or months, or—
“For some TLC,” Renata said. “A lazy weekend.”
Mmm, a lazy weekend sounded blissful. She knew Matias had a slew of busy days planned with his brewery. But maybe he could sneak away for a few hours. Because she’d love nothing more than to while away part of her day with Matias.