Elise had heard about the sleepless nights from her friends with newborns, but it was something else entirely to experience them. Waking up every few hours left her mentally fragmented in a way her college all-nighters hadn’t. And yet, she had never felt more fulfilled than she did in those bleary-eyed, predawn moments when she pulled Mira from her bassinet, held her little body close, and tried to rock away her tears while she warmed a bottle.
It was the workday that was unbearable. The town’s weekend population had ballooned from pleasantly bustling to downright crowded. It was not, perhaps, the best time for Fern to be away from the store. But Jaci’s offer to introduce Fern to her friend at the Boston Seaport farmers’ market had proved too tempting to resist.
“I have to check it out,” Fern said. “This could lead to secondary revenue streams.”
Fine, that was hard to argue with, but it also left her to deal with both the shop and Mira alone—the latter of which, she knew, was a situation of her own making.
Elise packed up a diaper bag filled with supplies, strapped Mira into the car seat on wheels, and walked out the front gate toward the Beach Rose Inn. Rachel, that angel, had agreed to babysit for the day.
“Elise, hey—I was just coming to talk to you.”
Elise looked up to see Brian Correia. Brian was a Provincetown native, the great-grandson of a fisherman and a second-generation police officer. Brian’s wife, Beth, owned a bakery in the center of town. Fern and Elise had met the couple their first summer here at one of the Barroses’ many parties.
“Oh, hey, Brian. What’s up?”
Preoccupied with the logistics of her day, Elise didn’t realize for a moment that Brian was looking at Mira—and that this was not a social call.
When she figured out what was going on, she could barely breathe. But she told herself that it was crucial to act normally, that Brian was law enforcement but he was also a friend.
“Can we go inside and talk?” he said, glancing back at Shell Haven.
“Is everything okay?” she said, her voice an octave too high.
“That’s what I’m here to check out. The station got a call about a newborn who doesn’t seem to have parents in town.” He looked down at Mira. “Is this a relative of yours or Fern’s?”
Elise swallowed hard. It was one thing to keep a secret; it was another thing entirely to tell a blatant lie. She wanted to be honest with Brian, but he would have no choice but to take Mira away from her. So instead, she would have to tell a version of the truth.
“No,” she said. “She’s not ours. But we’re in the process of trying to adopt her.”
“Oh!” he said. “That’s great news. Beth and I know how much you two have wanted to start a family.”
Tears came to her eyes, mostly of relief that the conversation was out of treacherous territory.
“We do.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.
“No, no. It’s fine. And of course it must seem odd that we have a baby all of a sudden. Like I said, it’s not official yet. But we’re keeping our fingers crossed.”
“Well, everyone is rooting for you. Sorry to intrude on your personal life, but people do talk and I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t a problem.”
“No problem,” she said, trying to smile.
“Great. Well, tell Fern I said hi.”
“Will do,” Elise said.
She would be in no rush to tell Fern anything about the conversation at all.
The third-floor bedroom at Shell Haven was small and quaint with a sloped ceiling, Shaker furniture, and a window with a perfect view of the bay.
With Fern and Elise occupying the second-floor guest room and the baby in the office, the third floor was the only logical place to put Olivia. It was going to be quite the full house.
But for today, at least, Shell Haven was tranquil. Fern was away in Boston, Elise was working at the shop, and Rachel Duncan had the baby at the Beach Rose Inn. And if things got too crowded later in the weekend, Ruth told herself it didn’t matter; there was plenty to do around town. The weather was supposed to be sunny with temperatures in the high seventies. Ruth hoped to take Olivia to the beach. They could go on one of the water tours that the Barros family ran from the boatyard. Or, if they really wanted to make a day of it, there were whale-watching boats that left from the wharf. Then there was shopping, restaurants…but she was getting ahead of herself, wasn’t she? Just having a meal together would be a huge first step.
All she wanted was for Olivia to feel welcome. She added a few touches to the bedroom—fresh flowers and the book Land’s End by Michael Cunningham on the night table; on the dresser, rose-and-black-currant candles from Good Scents on Commercial Street. In the kitchen, there was gourmet cheese, fresh fruit, and bread from the Portuguese bakery.
Olivia would be arriving on the one o’clock ferry, and Ruth felt anxious. She looked out the third-floor window at the bay. It was hard not to consider the fact that they’d barely had more than a five-minute conversation in years. There was nothing to worry about, she told herself. Vacations had a way of bonding even the most intimacy-challenged family members. Provincetown would work its magic on their relationship, just as it had worked its charm on her so many years ago.
At ten in the morning, foot traffic on the sidewalk outside the house was light. From her high perch, Ruth watched bicyclists ride by, a couple walking a Weimaraner, a woman with a baby stroller. A woman with a baby stroller stopping in front of Shell Haven.
She realized it was Rachel Duncan pushing the baby stroller. Ruth watched, incredulous, as Rachel unlatched the gate and made her way up the path to the house.
What was she doing there?
Ruth hurried down the two flights of stairs and met Rachel at the front door, trying to head her off at the pass. Before she could tell her this wasn’t a good time, Rachel said, “Ruth! I’m so glad you’re here. I have a mini-emergency at the inn. Can you watch Mira for just an hour or so? I can’t take her to the shop—Elise is working alone today.”
“I’m sorry, Rachel. My daughter is visiting and I can’t.”
“What time is she getting here?”
“Around one. But—”
“I’ll be back by one, I promise!” she said, turning back to the street and waving her hand above her head. “Thanks, Ruth, you’re a lifesaver.”
Oh no—this was not happening today.
“Rachel, wait,” Ruth called out, following her. “If you’re not back here before one, I’m parking this stroller in the middle of the tea shop. I’m serious. I don’t care who is working or not working or what’s going on. Understood?”
“Understood,” Rachel said. “I’ll be back before your daughter arrives.”