The scene in Lidia’s kitchen reminded Ruth of parties she’d hosted years ago at the house in Cherry Hill, back when Olivia was little and Ruth still had time to have her family and in-laws over for summer barbecues. Like Lidia, she’d used paper plates under the delusion that somehow this would minimize all the dishes to be cleaned only to find the kitchen counter and sink overflowing at the end of the evening.
“Please, Ruth, go back outside and relax. I’m fine taking care of this,” Lidia said, up to her elbows in dishwater.
“I’m happy to help,” Ruth said. She was also happy to avoid the spectacle of Ben and Bianca chatting away. They had returned after the fireworks and were engrossed in conversation. How could Ben not have realized by now that the woman was insufferable? She reached for an oily metal baking tray and realized she should cover the dime-size burn on her left hand—her latest soap-making-related injury. “Do you have a Band-Aid? I have a small burn and I don’t want to get it wet.”
This prompted another flurry of protests about Ruth’s assistance, so Ruth finally said, “Lidia, please. I’m happy to have an excuse not to be outside with my ex-husband. It was a mistake to invite him.”
“Well, in that case, check the second-floor bathroom. If you don’t see any, there’s a linen closet in the hallway with toiletries.”
Ruth climbed the stairs, thinking that after helping Lidia, she would go home, despite the fact that the party seemed to have enough legs to keep going until all hours. What would be the point in staying? Olivia had disappeared; Ben was otherwise occupied. She enjoyed talking to her friends but fundamentally, the evening had been a disappointment. There had not been a single family moment in the course of the entire party. At least, not for her family.
A woman’s voice startled her. It came from one of the bedrooms. For a moment, she thought maybe she was overhearing some sort of tryst because the woman said, “I love you.” But then she heard the distinct coo of a baby, the sound Mira had started to make.
Ruth crept toward the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar. She didn’t know exactly what she was listening for, but something in her had shifted into high alert.
She angled herself so she could peer into the room; she had just a sliver of a view but it was enough to see Jaci sitting on the edge of the bed cradling Mira. She stroked the side of the baby’s face with one finger, staring intently at her with a look of love.
A look of motherly love.
It was the lull after the fireworks, a brief window when everyone at the party was still quietly taking in the moment. Elise stood near the water, slow to drift back toward the house with the others. Lost in thought, she heard Fern’s voice before she actually saw her.
“Better late than never,” Fern said, perhaps to Manny, maybe to their group of friends in general. Elise was too far away to tell.
Was it possible to think about someone so much you actually conjured her?
Minutes passed as Fern made her way through the crowd, greeting everyone, churning through small talk, until she finally reached Elise.
“Looks like I missed the fireworks,” Fern said, hands in the pockets of her jeans. She was dressed for work in her Tea by the Sea T-shirt, which was not the way she would usually arrive at a party.
“I missed you,” Elise said. She said it instinctively, impulsively, because it was true, not because it was particularly helpful, considering what they were going through. She had missed her, but that didn’t fix anything. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Let’s go somewhere we can talk,” Fern said.
They walked to the farthest end of the dock. They did not speak and did not touch and Elise thought, This is it. This is how it ends. She thought of Mira back in the house with Jaci and told herself that she had tried it two different ways. First she had chosen Fern, then she had chosen the baby, and both ways left a hole in the center of her world. She had imagined when she was young that life was about learning how to attain things, but now she wondered if it was actually about learning how to lose them.
Fern reached for her hand. “I really have missed you,” she said.
Elise felt such intense relief, it took her breath away. “I’ve missed you. I don’t want to be apart.” And then, because it had to be said, “But I also want to be a mother.”
Fern nodded. “I want it for you too.”
She didn’t know exactly what that meant. I want it for you, and I’ll be a partner in making it happen? Or I want it for you but only if it doesn’t inconvenience us too much? Or I want it for you but I don’t want it for myself anymore?
Elise put her arms around her wife. “I love you. I don’t know how to do this without you.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Fern said.
There had been many times when Fern had said this to Elise: Dealing with their disapproving parents. Giving up their lives in Boston to start over in P’town. Looking for a house. Trying to become parents, then trying to let go of that dream. For years, those four words from Fern—We’ll figure it out—had acted like a talisman on Elise. Fern said they’d work it out, and so they would. But life had proved Fern wrong, and the words had lost their magic.
Yes, she wanted Fern to move back home. But even as they held each other’s hands, even as they walked back to the party in the spirit of renewal, Elise wondered if, somehow, more than just the words had lost their magic.
Ruth stepped back from the door to Jaci’s bedroom and leaned against the hallway wall. Her heart pounded. No, this couldn’t be. And yet two things clicked: Jaci’s arrival back from school coinciding with the appearance of the baby on the doorstep and Jaci’s persistent interest in hanging around Shell Haven and babysitting instead of spending time with her own family. And so that meant she had…what? Gotten pregnant, hidden this fact from her family, returned to Provincetown with the baby, then abandoned her? It was an absurd thought. And, if true, it was terribly reckless. But Jaci was still technically just a teenager herself.
Ruth started doing the math in her head. Mira had been born in early May. So Jaci would have gotten pregnant at the end of last summer before leaving for school or at the very beginning of her freshman year, hidden the pregnancy throughout the winter, and given birth weeks before returning home for the summer.
Mira cooed loudly again.
“Can you give me a smile?” Jaci said softly. “I saw that smile you gave Elise. You did, didn’t you? Yes, you did…”
Ruth stepped forward and pushed the door open wider. Jaci looked up, startled, but recovered quickly.
“Oh, hey, Ruth. I thought everyone was outside.”
Ruth moved into the room. “May I sit with you for a minute?”
“Um, I was actually going to head back to the party. I was just watching her for Elise during the fireworks because it was too loud for her outside.”
“That was generous of you.”
“It’s no big deal.” Jaci shrugged. “I mean, the fireworks are the same every year.”
Ruth sat on the bed. She reached out and gently touched Jaci’s arm. “Jaci, is this your baby?”
“What? No, of course not.”
Ruth looked her in the eye, and Jaci held her gaze. The denial was calm and convincing. It was the denial of someone who had prepared herself for the question. It was the denial of someone who’d thought things through.
Unfortunately, once truth surfaces, evidence is everywhere. Ruth had only to look at Mira to see everything she’d failed to notice until that moment. The baby resembled Lidia. She had the dark Barros eyes and Lidia’s cleft chin. How did no one else see this? Do you only see what you want to see, even when reality is literally staring you in the face? “Jaci, I’m not upset with you. But this can’t go on. Someone is going to get hurt.”
Jaci’s eyes filled with tears. Ruth hugged her, careful not to squash Mira.
“It’s going to be okay,” Ruth said.
“No,” Jaci said sharply, pulling back. “It won’t be okay if you tell anyone. This was the right thing to do. I’m sorry, but you’re an outsider. You don’t understand. And it’s not your business.”
“It became my business the minute you left your daughter on my doorstep.”
“I had no idea Elise and Fern had rented out the house! That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“And what was the plan, exactly?”
Jaci sniffled. Ruth reached over to the bedside table, pulled a tissue out of a box, handed it to her.
“Thanks. I mean, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I can’t be a mother—not now. I have three years left at school. I don’t want to live here raising a baby in my parents’ house. I want to be like Olivia; I want to move to New York and have a real career. And Elise and Fern—they’ve wanted a baby for years. I was there the afternoon that Elise had her second miscarriage. She wants a baby more than anything. So giving her mine solves both of our problems.”
“Jaci, you can’t just give someone a baby. There are legal repercussions. Emotional repercussions. What about the father? Does he know about this?”
Jaci wiped her eyes with the bottom of her T-shirt, leaving a smudge of mascara on it. “He told me to get an abortion. Which, considering my Catholic family, was just not an option. Not something I could live with.”
“Well, he has a responsibility to this child. He can’t just—”
“Ruth, please. Stop. I’m literally never going to see him again. This is bad enough. Just let it go.”
Ruth sighed. This was Lidia’s domain and none of her business. “What about your mother? Don’t you think she’d want the chance to care for her own granddaughter? I’ve only known your mother a short while, but I can say with certainty she would.”
Jaci shook her head. “My mother can’t find out about this. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I realized I was pregnant, but the thing I did know from day one was that I didn’t want to burden my parents. They’ve worked hard their whole lives to be financially stable; my dad is about to retire. I can’t do that to them, make them start over with a baby. You cannot tell my mother—promise me. It would only hurt her. If you say anything to anyone, a lot of people will be hurt.”
“People are already getting hurt! Do you know Elise and Fern are at odds over how to handle this situation? They’ve been living apart.”
Jaci blanched, but quickly recovered. “Elise and Fern will work it out. They always do.”
Ruth crossed her arms. Jaci stood up from the bed, placed Mira against her shoulder, and paced.
“I’m going back to the party,” she said finally, opening the door. She turned to look at Ruth. “Please, please, I’m begging you—stay out of it. If you don’t, you’ll hurt all of us. I’m doing the right thing. You’ll see.”