Chapter Nine

Saturday morning in late June came early. Warm sunlight reflected through the oversized windows and washed over the bedroom. Brionney stifled a yawn as she exchanged her bathrobe for a teal and white plaid top and matching solid teal stretch pants. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it being light so much of the time.”

Jessed grinned. “It is hard to sleep. But in the winter it’ll be the opposite—too much dark.”

“At least there’s no snow now. And it’s quiet. Sometimes I just lie in bed listening to the silence.” She laughed and smoothed her top over her stomach. “Wow, if I’m this big before I’m even five months, what am I going to look like at nine?” In the ten weeks they’d been at the Mathees’, she’d gained twenty pounds.

“You say that every time,” Jesse said. “And you look cute.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

“Remember, you get the diapers for two weeks.”

“Not the six-wipe ones.”

“Oh, yeah. Those too.”

He sighed. “I think I’m gaining weight right along with you. These pants are too small.” He tugged at the dark denim.

“We forgot your maternity clothes in Utah,” Brionney said, batting her eyes at him innocently.

Jesse joined in her laughter. Every time she had been pregnant, he’d gained nearly as much weight as she did. After the births, they would lose it together—or at least some of it.

“So what are you going to do while Malcolm and I go fishing?” he asked.

“Karissa and I are taking the kids to the park, and then going grocery shopping.”

“Buy some lemons, would you? We’re going to need them to cook all the fish we’re gonna catch.”

Brionney kissed Jesse good-bye and headed toward the girls’ room to see if they were dressed and ready to go. In the hall, the familiar queasiness bubbled up inside her, and she stopped and shut her eyes until the discomfort eased. I hate being pregnant!

“Are you all right?” Karissa asked, coming from her upstairs office.

Brionney opened her eyes. “Yeah. It’ll pass.”

“I can do the shopping alone,” Karissa said. “I can take the girls, too. You could stay home and rest.”

Brionney fought the temptation to accept. She’d come to know Karissa better during the past weeks and knew she could trust the other woman with her children. “No, I need to get out. I really do.” She rubbed a hand over her stomach and watched Karissa’s eyes follow the motion.

“Do you feel it moving?” Karissa asked.

Brionney nodded.

“What does it feel like?”

Brionney thought for a moment. “At first it feels like butterflies, with their wings barely fluttering against my insides. Then it gradually gets harder as the baby grows. I knew one woman who claimed that her baby actually kicked her husband out of bed!”

Karissa smiled, her eyes going back to Brionney’s stomach. “I wish I knew what it felt like.” The overt longing in her voice brought a lump to Brionney’s throat, and her guilt at not feeling ready for another child came to the surface. It didn’t seem fair for her to be reluctantly blessed with a child when Karissa wanted one so badly.

“I wish you did too. I think you’d make a good mother.”

“It’s all I ever think about.”

Brionney was surprised at the admission. Karissa usually avoided the topic of having children. She knew the Mathees were seeing a fertility specialist, but that was as much as she had learned.

“I just want a baby,” Karissa continued, tears coming to her green eyes. “But each month the test is negative.”

Brionney reached out tentatively to the other woman, and felt relieved when Karissa didn’t pull away. She wished she had words to comfort the other woman.

“I thought quitting smoking would be more difficult,” Karissa said. “I thought I would suffer withdrawal and have to use those nicotine patches or something, but all I have to do is imagine my baby or watch your daughters play, and the desire leaves. That’s got to mean something, doesn’t it?”

“I think so. Just give it a little more time.”

Karissa nodded. “I appreciate that, Brionney, I really do. Thank you so much for sharing your family with me.”

Brionney hugged her. “Thank you for sharing your house,” she replied, not knowing what else to say.

Karissa drew away, slowly but deliberately. Brionney recognized the motion as a physical sign of the imaginary wall Karissa would now build around herself, a wall to hide from her pain. “Maybe it’s all for the best,” Karissa muttered.

Brionney grabbed her arm before it was out of reach. “I can’t believe that. But I do believe the Lord knows what He’s doing.”

It was the wrong thing to say. A shadow flitted over Karissa’s face like a dark convulsion. In that instant, Brionney saw a hint of the inner torture that was Karissa’s, something that told of much more than her longing for a child. What had happened in her life? What was she hiding?

“Are we gonna go yet?” Rosalie asked from the doorway of her room. She wore red stretch pants and a pink top with blue hearts.

“Sure,” Brionney said.

“Yay!” The girls’ feet thundered down the kitchen stairs.

“There was a day,” Brionney said to Karissa, “when I would never have let my children leave the house in mismatched clothes. Now, I just hope what they are wearing looks mostly clean.”

Karissa smiled, and Brionney was relieved to see her pain tucked out of sight. “She looks adorable,” Karissa said. “Completely adorable.”

The girls were waiting for them in Brionney’s white four-door Ford Tempo. Karissa slid into the front passenger seat while Brionney settled behind the wheel.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Karissa asked. She spoke formally, as if to distance herself from her previous show of familiarity. Brionney was accustomed to the change in attitude, but she wished Karissa would trust her more.

“For long drives like this, I have to drive or I’ll get carsick,” Brionney said lightly. “It happens only when I’m pregnant.”

Karissa nodded and looked out the window, where bright sunlight played over the landscape. Lush green sprang from the hills and valleys, replacing the former slushy carpet of snow.

“I love the green,” Karissa said above the noise coming from the girls in the backseat. “I hate everything about this island except the green.”

The vehemence in her voice took Brionney by surprise. “I thought you loved Kodiak.”

“Malcolm loves Kodiak.”

Ten weeks of living with this couple, and Brionney realized there was still much she didn’t know about them. “So how did you get into plant collecting?” she asked, searching for safe ground.

“I’ve always loved plants,” Karissa said, “but it wasn’t until I’d been married about two years that I became serious about them.” She laughed, and her eyes took on a faraway look. “I used to tell Malcolm to buy me plants for my birthday and Christmas, but he never would. He bought jewelry, clothes—anything but what I really wanted. When I finally confronted him, do you know what he said?”

“What?”

“He said he didn’t buy me plants because since I always asked for plants, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Imagine that. Doesn’t that sound just like a man? I said to heck with the surprise, get me something I wanted. One more pan or bathrobe, and I was going to buy my own present!”

“So what’d he do?”

“That Christmas he bought me the most beautiful weeping fig I’d ever seen. And ten other plants. I was so shocked, I almost couldn’t speak. There I was, getting ready to knock him over the head with a cookie tray or a deep fryer, and he finally gets me what I want! I practically screamed with excitement. He’s been getting me plants ever since.”

Brionney chuckled. “I think I might try that with Jesse. Let’s see; what shall I begin to collect? Diamonds, maybe?” They laughed together, and the building tension dissipated.

“I’ve got another story for you,” Karissa said. “My mother’s one of those traditional types. She loves to cook and keep house. Everything has to be just so. My dad doesn’t mess with the household chores much, or with making meals, but he loves those microwave dinners for snacks. He’s an engineer, and someone at work put him on to them. Well, he wanted my Mom to get a microwave, but she wouldn’t hear of it because she thinks it sucks out all the vitamins. Dad said he didn’t care as long as the food tasted good. Anyway, come Christmas, Dad buys Mom a microwave so he can use it. She was so angry.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope. That was nine years ago, and she hasn’t used the microwave once.”

“Sounds like you miss her,” Brionney said.

“I do. And my brothers and sisters—especially my sisters.”

“Not your father?”

She shrugged. “My father is a difficult man to get along with. He . . . well, he’s always right for one thing. And he’s hard, mean even.”

Brionney thought of her own father, who had always been so important in her life. In many ways, he was softer than her mother. How many times had they cuddled on the couch and watched television together? Or worked in their garden? How many times had he given her sound advice? She felt sad that Karissa didn’t have a father she could admire.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Karissa said quickly. “I love my father. I just don’t like him very much. And he certainly doesn’t approve of my life. I was the only child to get married out of the temple. For a man who’s about to be translated, that’s a hard thing to take.”

“So you were raised in the Church?”

“Oh, yes.” Karissa’s voice grew bitter. “Every Sunday we were there in the first row, fifteen minutes before sacrament meeting started. If we didn’t go for any reason at all—even if we were sick—he wouldn’t talk to us for a week. Once he threw my twelve-year-old brother out of the house for missing his Sunday School class. It was snowing, and my brother quickly changed his mind about rebelling.” Her voice held a mixture of awe and anger. “I never missed a meeting until I left home for college. Then I never went to church again.” She paused. “No, I don’t miss my father.”

Brionney felt there was more behind Karissa’s anger than a parent’s zeal for a child’s faith, but she would wait until Karissa was ready to tell the full story. “You’ve really never been to church since?” she asked.

“Only a few times, when Malcolm’s family has insisted. You know, for blessings or missionary homecomings.”

“Do you miss it?”

The question seemed to catch Karissa by surprise. “Yes, I guess I do—sometimes.”

They sat in thoughtful silence until they drove past the sprawling school building that consisted of different sections for elementary, middle grade, and high school classes. There were tennis courts behind the school and a large ball field. Several blocks further a track encircled a large field with swings and a jungle gym.

“The park!” Rosalie bounced on her seat, straining at the seat belt.

The girls piled from the car as soon as Brionney pulled to a stop. “Now stay—” She had been about to tell them to stay together and not talk to strangers, but the idea of kidnaping was so rare here as not to make a difference. Kodiak was too isolated. In many instances, it was like going back in time. She let the words be swallowed by the light breeze.

For the next hour, Brionney was caught up in the joy of being with her children. She had no place to go, nothing more important to do. From time to time, she watched Karissa as the other woman pushed Camille on the swing or barreled down the slide with Rosalie on her lap, laughing. But behind the outer happiness, her pretty face held a quiet, desperate sadness.

“I’m getting as dirty as they are,” Karissa said, taking a break. She slapped the dust off the leg of her jeans.

Brionney shook her head. “No way. You always look so put together. I used to spend a lot of time on myself, but now it seems I barely have the time to put on makeup before Jesse comes home.”

Karissa smiled. “I’ll tell you the secret,” she said, sweeping her dark-brown hair back from her forehead. “No matter what you do, wear lipstick. One of my sisters is a beautician. She taught me that even if you don’t have time for anything else, lipstick will make you look finished. A little eye liner will add a lot too, if you have the time, but the lipstick is a must.”

Brionney stared at Karissa. “Why, that’s all you are wearing!”

“See? You didn’t even notice I had nothing else on. It’s a trick. As long as you have lipstick on, people think you have the rest. It’s almost as good as really having it.” She laughed. “Look, I’ll go to the car and get my purse. We’ll put some on you, and you’ll see.” She bounded across the verdant grass on her long legs. Brionney watched her go until a voice caught her attention.

“They’re five months,” a woman was saying. “Mostly I don’t do anything but tend them. I have to dress them, bathe them, feed them, and when I get all done I have to start all over again. I barely have time for my three-year-old.”

“I can’t imagine how you do it,” another voice said. “My one baby keeps me busy. He’s eight months now.”

Brionney turned from where she pushed Rosalie in a swing and saw two women. One sat on a swing with a baby, and the other helped a little girl onto another black seat, giving her a gentle push. Next to the swing set stood a double stroller.

“I just keep plugging away,” the mother pushing the little girl said. She left her daughter momentarily to peer into the stroller. Brionney followed her gaze. Two adorable twin babies dressed in dark blue stared up at her, uncertain smiles on their tiny faces.

Brionney had her mouth open, ready to tell the mother that things would get easier, at least physically, as the children matured. Soon they would dress themselves, however discordantly, get their own drinks of water, tie their own shoes. And twins would play well together as her oldest daughters now did.

All at once the old pain returned with blunt force, and Brionney clutched at her stomach beneath her breasts, gasping for breath. She felt as if Rosalie had kicked her in the stomach as she swung forward in the swing, but that had not happened. Acrid tears stung Brionney’s eyes and she blinked rapidly, turning away from the twin babies and Rosalie swinging in the air.

“Oh, Father,” she mumbled, still struggling to breathe. She reached for the metal pole supporting the swing set, and it seemed to take forever to reach it. When she finally did, she clung to it, unseeing.

“Mommy, higher. I wanna go higher,” yelled Rosalie. “Mommy, are you listening to me? I said I wanna go higher! Mommy, now!” Rosalie’s plea had turned into a high-pitched wail, but Brionney only heard it on one level. She was all but in the past, remembering the pain that usually she recalled only twice a year. Once again she saw the dark-haired toddlers holding hands.

* * * * *

When Karissa returned from the car, Brionney was standing by the side of the swing set. Her face was pale, and her hands clutched at the pole. Near her in the swing, Rosalie was yelling, her round face growing angrier by the moment.

“Brionney? Are you okay?” Karissa asked, reaching for her arm.

“Somebody push me!” screamed Rosalie.

“I’ll be right there to push you if you behave yourself,” Karissa said sharply. Rosalie’s open mouth shut abruptly.

“I’m all right,” Brionney managed to say.

“What happened?” To Karissa’s relief, Brionney’s eyes focused on her and she began to walk in the direction Karissa led. She waited until they were seated on the bench near the edge of the sand before asking, “It’s not the baby, is it?”

“No.” Brionney took a deep breath. “I heard those women talking. One of them has twins. When I looked at them, I remembered my own babies. It’s been so long since I thought about them. I just wasn’t expecting it. Then suddenly there those babies are, and they could have been mine.”

“You had twins?” Karissa shook her head. She had thought Brionney’s life so perfect, so trouble-free.

“I miscarried twin boys,” Brionney said in a low voice. “I was four months along. Well, they’d died a long time before I actually miscarried. I never felt them move. I don’t even know if they were given spirits yet. I mourned for them a long time, but it gradually got better. I usually remember them only during the time they would have been born, or when I lost them.” She gave a brief, strangled laugh. “It was last month, you know. When they were due, that is. But I hadn’t even thought about them until now. I wasn’t expecting it. Seeing those twins reminded me.” She took another shaky breath. “I guess I still miss them.”

“I’m sorry,” Karissa said, feeling inadequate. She didn’t fully understand the heartache Brionney had endured, but she could imagine how she would feel if it had happened to her.

“No, it’s okay, really.” Brionney was breathing more easily now, and the white shock was slowly fading from her face. “I used to pray that I would have them, but now it’s enough to know they’ll be mine someday. I don’t know how or when, but they will be.”

Karissa didn’t reply. Brionney spoke with a sound assurance, but Karissa’s heart held no such faith. If only it could be true, she thought. A tingly feeling spread throughout her body, one she had begun to feel occasionally. In some ways it was familiar, but she still didn’t understand what it meant. “What happened? Why did you lose them?”

“We’ll never know for sure. But they shared the same sac. Not a good sign.” Brionney’s voice was soft with remembrance.

Karissa was surprised. “I thought all identical twins came in the same sac.”

“Many people do. But it actually depends on when the embryo splits. The later it splits, the more they are likely to share and the more problems there are. Monoamniotic twins—where they share the same sac—happens in less than two percent of all twins. It means a higher death rate—fifty to sixty-two percent, or something like that.” Brionney gave a wry grimace. “You see, my sister’s a nurse, and after I lost the babies, we did a lot of research. I needed answers. I’m sure the details don’t interest you.”

“But they do.” Karissa briefly touched her friend’s arm. “I should know these things. After all, I work in a hospital.”

“As an administrator, not a doctor,” Brionney said dryly.

Karissa shrugged. “I didn’t know you’d ever gone through such a tragedy. I guess I thought your life had been pretty smooth.”

Brionney sat back on the bench and sighed. “It’s not something I go around announcing or anything. But I tell you—up until that point in my life it was the most traumatic thing that had happened to me. I wanted Jesse’s baby desperately. I mean, he treated Savannah like she was his, but our first baby together was special.”

“You mean Jesse’s not Savannah’s biological father?” Karissa’s asked slowly.

“No. I was married before. He left me.”

“You don’t sound too unhappy about it.”

“Derek’s leaving was the best thing for me and Savannah, though I didn’t know it at the time. Jesse and I were meant to be together. He’s a good father and husband. Derek wasn’t either of those.”

Karissa didn’t speak for a moment but watched the girls. Savannah, with her long, white-blonde hair, was pushing both Rosalie and Camille on the swings. “She looks just like you. Only with long hair.”

“My ex-husband has blonde hair and blue eyes too,” Brionney said without bitterness. “She does look like me, but I can see him in her also. But she’s Jesse’s now. My ex-husband allowed him to adopt her.”

They sat without speaking. The woman with the twins had taken both infants in her arms and was rocking them, love etched on her face. Karissa felt jealousy boil up in her chest.

“So you had the miscarriage before Camille,” she said, looking away from the mother and her babies.

“Yes. I got pregnant with Camille about three months later. I hoped I was having the twins, but I didn’t.” There was a touch of melancholy in Brionney’s voice.

“She’s very special, that Camille,” Karissa said. “It would have been good for you to have your twins, but then you wouldn’t have had Camille, would you?”

Brionney was silent for a long minute. “I never thought of it that way. You’re right. I wouldn’t trade Camille for them. How could I? It’s not a choice a mother could make. I’m glad I didn’t have to. That sort of puts things into perspective.” She turned to look at Karissa. “Thank you. Mostly, I’m fine with the past, but today I think I needed to be reminded of how special my little Camille is.”

Karissa laughed. “Anytime. And who knows? If you really feel you’ll see those babies again, maybe you’ll have them this time.”

“Oh, no,” Brionney said. “I think I’m beyond that dream for now. I can barely handle the three I have. I can wait until the Millennium to have my boys.”

Karissa thought it all nonsense. It was romantic to believe as Brionney did, but not realistic. Yet if it was true, Karissa’s own secret past could come back to haunt her some day—even more forcefully than it did now.

Oh, for a cigarette!

“You know,” Brionney said, “we buried the babies beneath the cherry tree in my sister’s yard—we were renting from her at the time. When we moved, I dug up the dirt, and of course there was nothing there. They were so tiny, and so much time had passed. Still, I put some of the dirt in a container, and on top of that I placed the two flat rocks we had used to mark the spot. I know it sounds strange, but it seems to help, having something tangible to remember them by.”

Karissa had glimpsed the plant container and wondered at the contents. “That doesn’t seem so strange to me,” she said. “Working for the hospital, I’ve learned it’s good for people to have something they can use to focus their grief. It actually helps in the healing process.”

“That’s a relief,” Brionney smiled, her cheeks dimpling. “I never told anyone besides Jesse because I thought I was losing it.”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” Karissa wished she had something on which to focus her own grief. But there was nothing—except those terrible dreams of a mother causing her baby’s death. Thankfully, those hadn’t returned since she’d stopped smoking.

“Come on,” she said to Brionney. “Enough of seriousness. Lets go find somewhere on this uncivilized island to buy ourselves an ice cream.”

* * * * *

Later that night, they ate baked halibut. The tasty morsels broke apart in Karissa’s mouth as she chewed slowly. She hadn’t liked fish before coming to Kodiak, but that was one more thing in her life that had changed.

“Next week, I want to take the girls with us,” Jesse said enthusiastically. “I’ve never gone saltwater fishing before. I can’t believe how big these fish are. Only one day, and we have enough for a week of fish!”

Karissa sighed. She liked halibut, but not that much. Fish is healthy, she consoled herself.

“I want to come too,” Brionney said.

Jesse’s dark eyes softened as they came to rest on his wife’s face. “Are you feeling better today?” he asked. “I mean, you look really good, like maybe you haven’t been so sick.”

Brionney glanced over at Karissa, one blue eye closing in a wink. She wore the eye liner Karissa had put on at the park, along with the burnt sienna lipstick, now partially smeared from dinner. The extra color made her face more alive than usual. “I feel pretty good,” Brionney said. “I think being on Kodiak agrees with me.”

At least someone besides Malcolm likes this prison, Karissa thought. But her husband looked so pleased that she didn’t say the words aloud.

Camille and Rosalie had satisfied their small appetites. “Can I take a bath?” Camille asked.

“Me too,” Rosalie said. “Can I take a bath too? I stink real bad.”

Brionney laughed. “Of course you can. There’s time before bed.”

“Please do,” Jesse said, plugging his nose and rolling his eyes. “Before my nose dies from the smell! Wow! How can such a little girl smell s-o-o-o-o bad?”

Rosalie giggled, her brown eyes dancing. “I smell bad!” she squealed. “I stink!” Camille leaned over to sniff her sister’s arm, and Savannah pinched her nose shut. Karissa laughed out loud.

While Brionney and Jesse went upstairs to bathe their brood and settle them in bed, Karissa and Malcolm cleared the table. They worked side by side, so close that Karissa could smell her husband’s freshly washed hair. She felt as if she needed a shower herself. During her outing with the girls, she’d worked up quite a sweat pushing them in the swing and running around the park. Her thin T-shirt clung to her body, and a slightly sour smell reached her nose.

“I need a shower,” she said as she rinsed the last dish and plopped it in the dishwasher.

“You look good to me,” Malcolm said.

“I stink!” Karissa mimicked Rosalie’s high-pitched voice.

Malcolm laughed. “You go ahead then. I’ll wipe down the table.”

Karissa kissed his cheek. “Thanks.” She walked to the doorway. “Oh, I just remembered. You never told me that Brionney had been married before.”

His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know. How ’bout that.”

“She had Savannah with her first husband, and then married Jesse when Savannah was about one and a half.”

“He never told me,” Malcolm said. “Though I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t tell anyone if it was me.”

“What do you mean?” Karissa’s voice was sharper than she meant it to be.

“Nothing. Just that I wouldn’t want people to know if my wife had been married to another man before me. It’s a guy thing, you know.”

It was all Karissa could do to keep her voice calm. “I don’t think Jesse cares about her past. It’s not her fault. Brionney didn’t do anything wrong; her husband left her. I think Jesse’s just grateful to have her in his life.”

Malcolm shrugged. “If that’s so, why didn’t he tell me?”

“Maybe it never came up.”

“Maybe.” Malcolm gazed at her with a question in his eyes. “What does it matter to us? We don’t have any secrets like that.”

Karissa nodded numbly. She’d been right not to confide her secret to Malcolm. If he knew now, he’d only look at her with disgust and anger. “I’m going to shower.” She left him, feeling his eyes boring into her back.

She was in the shower a long time, scrubbing and scrubbing until her skin felt raw. Still she did not feel clean. Water could never wipe away her atrocious deed. Her face crumpled and she sobbed uncontrollably, letting the spray from the shower beat against her face and rinse the tears down to the tile and through the drain.