ONE OF THE things Grace loved about Indian Lake was how all Aunt Louise’s friends welcomed her with open arms. And as usual, Mrs. Beabots was the first to offer.
Grace owed Mrs. Beabots not only her first Paris connections, but now the use of the apartment in Mrs. Beabots’s Victorian mansion also. Grace had known she couldn’t possibly squeeze both herself and Jules into Louise’s one-bedroom apartment above the ice-cream shop. It had been fun to crash on the sofa when she was a teenager, but with a baby who sometimes didn’t sleep the whole night through, Grace didn’t think any of them would get much rest in such tight quarters. After all Aunt Louise had done for her, staying somewhere else was the least Grace could do.
Normally, Louise left for Florida each winter, but because of her back injury, she hadn’t gone the year before and had given up the house she’d been leasing then. The new people had rented it for the next three years at a higher fee. Louise feared that her Florida days were over.
Luckily, Mrs. Beabots hadn’t rented her upstairs apartment to anyone and she was delighted to have Grace and the baby staying with her.
Once Grace had unpacked and settled in, Mrs. Beabots invited her for afternoon tea. She’d already invited Louise, as well as Sarah, who lived next door. Sarah had given birth to a baby girl, Charlotte, only three days after Jules was born on July 1, and Grace was looking forward to having her friend so close by.
Jules was still napping when Grace headed downstairs at four, but because he was used to being transported from her Paris apartment to her studio, where designers shouted at each other over the cutting tables and sewing machines whirred, he could just about sleep through anything.
Grace put Jules, in his baby carrier, on Mrs. Beabots’s kitchen island just as Aunt Louise walked in.
Louise smiled at their elderly host. “I brought you a plate of brownies I made this morning.”
Mrs. Beabots grinned. “Those are the brownies for your brownie-nut-fudge ice cream, I presume.”
“They are.”
“How generous of you to share with us, Louise. We’ll put them out with the pecan and cranberry sandies I made. The tea is nearly ready. Sarah should be here any minute. I thought we’d sit in the front parlor. Luke put in a new heater for me out there and it’s quite toasty.” She winked. “The babies won’t get cold and we can watch the snowfall as the neighborhood Christmas lights come on.”
“Sounds lovely,” Grace replied, taking the china plate of cookies out to the front parlor as she hefted Jules’s carrier in her right hand. She set him on a red velvet Victorian chair. “Oh!” Grace exclaimed, spotting the skinny fir tree in the corner. “You have a Christmas tree out here.”
Louise placed the brownies on the coffee table. “Very pretty.”
“My big tree is in the library, as usual,” Mrs. Beabots explained. “But I spend so much time in here, reading and visiting, that it’s a shame not to have some of my favorite ornaments out to enjoy all the time.” Mrs. Beabots pointed to the tree. “All these are from Paris. Don’t you love the pink, gold and aqua? They were in vogue back in the sixties.”
“I’d love to hear more of your stories,” Grace said as the antique doorbell rang.
“That would be Sarah,” Mrs. Beabots said, placing the teapot on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back.”
“Uh-huh. Just in time not to disclose anything juicy about Paris or Coco Chanel, huh?” Grace teased.
Louise winked at her niece. “She’ll never spill.”
“Not even to me?” Grace asked.
“Never. Secrets are her passion. Along with these cookies.”
Sarah followed Mrs. Beabots into the room, holding a pink bundle. “Grace!” she squealed. “I’m so happy to see you!” She gave Grace a one-armed hug. “This is Charlotte. Annie’s on her way over. She had to walk Beau first. She’s dying to talk to you.”
“Goodness. I’m flattered, but why?”
“Oh,” Mrs. Beabots said impishly as she took Sarah’s coat. “You’ll see. She’s a million questions, that one. Tea, Sarah? You know you can have my mint-and-bourbon tea now that you’re not nursing.”
“True,” Sarah replied. “I’d love some tea.” She glanced at Grace. “Are you breastfeeding?”
“No. I had to go back to work five days after Jules was born. I took him to the studio with me, but formula let me be a bit more flexible with his feeding.”
“You’re kidding. They let you do that? Bring him in, I mean.”
Grace smiled. “Summer was a slow time for us and I’m the team leader. Though, once things ramped up in the fall, it was too hectic and Jules could feel my stress. I found a nanny, but she was clearly more interested in becoming a designer than she was in taking care of Jules. I was basically tutoring her while still doing the lion’s share of childcare.”
Sarah shook her head. “I can’t believe you got any work done at all! I’ve been able to take a longer mat leave, at least, but my whole day revolves around Charlotte. Sometimes I don’t even have time to eat, let alone do anything creative.”
Grace felt a rush of shame. The whole reason she’d come back to Indian Lake was that she couldn’t handle it all. How could anyone understand her motivation for leaving her baby here so she could continue her work half a world away? On the surface, she sounded like a heartless monster. She lifted her hand to Jules and let him curl his fingers around her forefinger. He smiled at her and when he did, the pacifier in his mouth wiggled and wobbled like it always did. Grace felt her heart tighten and then burst with love.
“I honestly don’t know how I’ve made it the past six months,” she admitted. “Well, year, really. Jules deserves so much more than I can give him right now. It was tough enough working seven days a week and most nights being pregnant.” She lifted her eyes to Louise. “Thank goodness I inherited sturdy genes.”
Louise’s eyes misted as she put a hand on Grace’s shoulder. “You’re a good mother, Grace, and this decision has to be unbearably difficult.”
Sarah shot her a confused look, and Grace explained about leaving Jules with Mica. She kept the part about not telling him until today to herself.
Sarah spread a baby quilt on the floor and put Charlotte on top. She kissed her baby’s head. “Kudos to you, Grace. Seriously, I couldn’t do what I do if I didn’t have Luke and the kids to help. And that’s not counting Miss Milse, who practically lives at the house, and Mrs. Beabots, who is the best friend ever.” Sarah reached for Mrs. Beabots’s hand and squeezed it. “I have so much support and there you are all alone in Paris...” Sarah shook her head.
The flood of gratitude that engulfed Grace almost moved her to tears. Her throat thickened with emotion. “You all are what I have been missing in my life in Paris. I have my team members, but I’m their boss. They look to me for support. Not the other way around. I’m their rock.”
“No wonder you’re worn out,” Mrs. Beabots said, pouring the tea. “Everyone needs a rock to lean on. And someone who motivates them. Who motivates you, Grace?”
Grace stared at the older woman. She’d never been asked such a question. What did motivate her, other than the goals she’d set for herself? And then the truth hit her. Mica.
Yes, she’d wanted to prove to herself that she had what it took to succeed. But deep down, she’d also wanted to show Mica that she wasn’t a silly girl prancing down a pageant runway.
And there was Jules, of course. Once she’d discovered she was pregnant, Grace had become driven to succeed for her child. She would have to provide financial security and a good foundation for him. Above all, she wanted to be the kind of person her child would be proud of and would want to emulate.
“Just Jules,” Grace finally said. “He’s become the center of my heart.”
Mrs. Beabots threw Grace an unconvinced look as she sipped her tea and gently placed the cup back on her saucer. “I never had a child, but ever since Sarah was born, I have felt she was almost my own. Now with Annie and Timmy in and out of my house as much as they are, and baby Charlotte, I can understand how a child could be nearly all a woman would need.” She paused and lifted her cup once more. “Nearly.”
Grace’s eyes didn’t leave Mrs. Beabots’s face. She felt as if the octogenarian knew everything about her feelings for Mica. And her passion for her career and her love for her baby. Maybe even more than Grace did herself.
“Why don’t you put Jules on the quilt and see if he and Charlotte get along?” Sarah asked.
“Good idea,” Grace replied and lifted Jules out of the carrier. She placed him next to blonde Charlotte, who peered at him quizzically and reached out to touch his face.
Jules burst into tears and wailed at the top of his lungs. Grace held him close as she caressed his back. “Apparently, he’s not the people person I’d thought he was,” she joked.
“Is Charlotte the first baby he’s met?” Sarah asked.
“Um...yes, actually.”
Louise lifted her chin. “Could be that and the fact that he’s teething. Grace said she was up with him for the past two nights.”
“I’ve got some teething gel that Charlotte likes. And she chews on frozen teething rings. I have an extra in my diaper bag. She’s going through the same thing.”
Grace exhaled and started laughing. She rocked back on her hips and laughed louder.
“What’s so funny?” Louise asked.
“This is all so...unfamiliar to me and yet, normal. I haven’t had a soul to talk about babies with—what to do or even what to ask. I’ve been winging it for months. Granted, I read books when I could keep my eyes open and I listened with one ear at the pediatrician’s office, but frankly, I was so busy texting and emailing my team that I guess I didn’t listen all that well.”
“What about Mica?” Sarah asked. “Hasn’t he been pitching in at all, even from across the ocean?”
Grace bit her lip, and an awkward silence fell over the group.
Sarah blinked. “What’d I say?”
Louise and Mrs. Beabots both gave Grace expectant looks. Grace sighed.
“I guess everyone will find out soon enough. Mica didn’t know about Jules...until today.”
Sarah put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Grace...”
Jules had quieted down, so Grace put him back in his carrier, where he seemed to be perfectly happy. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay. I messed up.” Grace sat back. “He’s angry. I guess I hadn’t prepared myself enough for his recriminations. But I hurt him. I know it and I wish I’d handled things differently.” More softly, she said, “I never intended to cause him so much pain.”
Sarah reached over and put her hand on Grace’s forearm. “Grace, you’ve been in love with him since you were fifteen. I’ve always known that. Maddie does, too. None of us will ever judge you. We love you. We always have.”
Grace burst into tears and hugged Sarah. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I be happy to pull up stakes, move back to Indian Lake and live with all of you? Why do I keep banging my head against the Bastille of Paris design houses?”
Louise put her hand on Grace’s shoulder. “Because it’s your destiny.”
Grace looked up. “Really? You think that?”
“Of course she does,” Mrs. Beabots affirmed. “And so do I. Sarah here is lucky that her design work keeps her close to home. Your life is in Paris. You’ve just got a tiny wrinkle in your plans is all.”
Grace turned to Jules, who was playing with a SpongeBob rattle. “I wouldn’t say ‘tiny.’”
“At the moment, he is. The big problem is blockheaded Mica,” Mrs. Beabots said, then she drained her teacup.
Fresh tears sprang into Grace’s eyes. “Is he?”
“Absolutely,” Sarah replied. “Yes, you should have told him. Yes, he could have been there when Jules was born. But you know, Grace, maybe your situation is just the thing Mica needs to yank him out of this self-centered pity party he’s had going on ever since the accident. Maddie and Olivia have both voiced concerns. Rafe wants to hire more help and Mica keeps putting up such a fight that nothing gets done. Fortunately, it’s several months until spring planting.”
“And then the tension will be even worse for Mica,” Grace interjected.
“I’m afraid so.”
Have I just added yet another burden for him to bear? Grace wondered. Maybe taking Jules back to Paris was the right thing after all. She had no idea if she was a good mother, if her career goals were admirable or simply selfish.
Stop it, Grace.
She’d worried over this far too long. She’d flown to Indian Lake. She’d taken the brunt of Mica’s anger. She’d dug in her heels. There was no going back.
The doorbell rang.
“There’s Annie!” Sarah exclaimed. “I was beginning to worry.” She jumped up, and Charlotte put out her arms for her mom, a grimace contorting her pretty pink cheeks.
“I’ll be right back, sweetie.” Grace’s heart squeezed painfully. How would Jules react when she left him...not just for a few moments, but for months?
Sarah came back into the room with Annie, who wore a neon-pink parka, white tights, white snow boots and a white sequined scarf around her neck.
She certainly had a stylish streak. Grace wondered if the questions Annie had for her were about fashion.
“Hi, Miss Grace!” Annie waved. “I’m so happy to see you. Mom said you could help me.”
“She...did?” Grace threw Sarah a curious look.
Sarah took Annie’s coat, while Annie toed off her boots. Grace noticed that her dress was a slim column of white T-shirt material with sequined collar and cuffs.
Sarah put her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Go ahead and ask, honey.”
“What is it, Annie?”
“Mom says you were Junior Miss Illinois.”
“I was,” Grace said, feeling that old pang of not measuring up. Of not being perfect. She couldn’t reflect on her earlier win without remembering how she’d only been runner-up in Miss Teen Illinois. And it made her sad to think that she might be better known around town for her pageant days than her accomplishments in the fashion world.
“I was wondering if you could...or would you, I mean, have you ever...coached kids like me?”
“Coached?”
“Yeah. You know. Like help me with my gowns and dresses and stuff. Mom says you know just about everything about clothes. Even more than Mrs. Beabots.”
“That’s not possible,” Grace and Sarah said in unison and then laughed.
“Well, almost, then,” Annie said.
Grace’s spirits lifted. This wasn’t just about her past as a preteen beauty queen. “Annie, I would be honored to help you. You do know there’s more to it than just the clothes, right?”
“Oh, I do. I’ve been taking piano and voice lessons for years,” Annie said, as if it had been decades.
“She’s very good,” Mrs. Beabots said. “She sings ‘Over the Rainbow’ with more soul than Judy Garland.”
“Who’s that?” Annie asked.
“She sang it before Iz,” Sarah said.
“Oh.”
Grace stifled a laugh. “The other thing, Annie, is that I’m only going to be in town for a week or so. We’ll have to get together very soon. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you make up a list of questions and then, even after I leave, you can always text me or email me if there’s something we didn’t cover.”
“Gosh, Miss Grace! That’s so nice of you! Thank you. I’ll be right next door while you’re here, so I can come over anytime!” Annie hopped from foot to foot.
Sarah laughed. “Well, maybe not all the time. Grace does have her own things to do while she’s here,” she told Annie. Then she hugged Grace. “You’re the best. You’ve made her day...her month, probably!”
“Absolutely.” Grace smiled at Annie. “We’ll have a blast.”
Annie went over to baby Charlotte, still chatting away with Sarah, and with the practiced moves of a highly trained nanny, picked up the baby and cooed to her as if she’d been doing it for several lifetimes. Grace was struck with Annie’s maturity. She was only eleven and she seemed more at ease with her sister than Grace often felt with Jules.
They all visited for another fifteen minutes, until Jules started to fuss. It was time to change his diaper.
“You can change him in my bedroom,” Mrs. Beabots offered as Grace grabbed his diaper bag and Louise picked up the baby. “You needn’t go all the way upstairs.”
Grace adored Mrs. Beabots’s bedroom, but she hadn’t seen it since Sarah’s husband, Luke—a master carpenter—had redesigned the room.
Once they entered the elaborately decorated pearl-gray-and-salmon bedroom, Grace froze. In the center of the room was an antique Venetian crystal chandelier. The walls were paneled and crown molded in gold filigree that would have shamed half the rooms at Versailles, Grace thought. There was a huge four-poster bed with a pearl gray satin duvet cover, pillows and sheets. Several beaded, salmon pink pillows dotted the bed. An enormous antique escritoire was filled with books and a French fauteuil chair upholstered in pink brocade was pulled up next to it. Once she’d taken everything in, Grace unfolded the changing pad under Jules, who had started to calm down once he had his mother’s complete attention.
“Annie is amazing, Aunt Louise.”
“No more than you were at that age.”
“What are you talking about?” Grace put the used diaper in a plastic bag and tied a knot.
Louise sat on the bed and smoothed Jules’s dark hair. “Grace, the thing about you is that you grew up fast. When you were very young, you were already taking charge of your life, without direction from your parents or me. Annie is like you. She was taking care of her dad when she was six. You kind of did that for your mother. Being on that stage, learning your lines, being judged all the time would be difficult for an adult, let alone a child. But you sailed through it gracefully. Sorry...about the pun.”
“That’s okay.” She chuckled. “But you’re right. I knew what clothes and accessories looked good together. I knew my piano concerto was strong. I saw the playing field, sized up the competition and knew how to win. How is that possible?”
Louise shrugged. “Old soul. Talent. Hard work. All of the above. Some people come into this life with gifts. They have a responsibility to use them. We all hope for equal opportunities, but if we all had equal talents, I’d choose to be Beyoncé.”
“Wouldn’t we all.” Grace laughed.
“Instead, I wear silly hats and dance a jig around my shop for a little kid’s birthday. All I want is to see that child smile and laugh and come back to see me. For about forty years.”
“And they do.”
“I hope this little guy will want to come see his old Aunt Louise.”
Grace pulled up Jules’s navy corduroy pants, then put on his matching navy socks with gold fleur-de-lis embroidered on the top rib. “One of the benefits of leaving Jules in Indian Lake for a while is that you’ll get to see him all the time.”
“I hope so,” Louise replied sadly.
Grace saw the mist in her aunt’s eyes. “What is it? Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Mica. That’s what. He’s being cruel, if you ask me. Treating you like that. You did the best you could under the circumstances. I don’t know if I would have done any differently, to be honest. If I didn’t have the ice-cream shop, I’d take Jules myself.”
“Now, Aunt Louise. We discussed this. Mica is his father and he should be the one to step up. Besides, you’ve only had a few months with your back being nearly normal. I hate to say it, but you’re not thirty years old anymore. It’s too much to ask.”
“Still and all, I’m here for you and Jules,” Louise replied firmly.
“And I love you for it.” Grace kissed her cheek and started to tear up again. “You’ve been so understanding and you didn’t have to be...”
“Stop that right now. I won’t hear it. You’re my family. Jules is family.”
“And he’s Mica’s family, too.” Grace gathered him into her arms. “It’s really kinda scary, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Jules doesn’t look a thing like me. He’s Barzonni all the way.”
“Well, I hope he inherits your sweet nature and none of Mica’s arrogance.”
Grace chuckled as she picked up the diaper bag. “I couldn’t agree more.”