Blythe knelt on the grass and hammered the last of four wooden stakes into the ground to wall off the patch of fresh soil she’d tilled. Next, she would cover the garden bed with compost. Working in the heat, panting with exertion, she still couldn’t quiet her mind.
How could Kip have known the truth about Marin all along and never said a word? It should be cause for relief, but instead it made her feel that not only was her marriage over, it had never been what she’d believed it to be in the first place. She always felt that Kip loved her more after Marin was born; he tried harder to connect with Blythe, and even though he fell short in many ways, the new effort, combined with motherhood, cemented Blythe’s conviction that she needed to make her marriage work. And for so many years, it had worked. There had been genuine love, happiness, and, yes, even passion between them. Sure, it had fallen off in recent years. But she thought that was the normal course of things. Now she wondered if there had ever been a “normal” moment between them after her pregnancy.
The answer was probably no. And there never would be. The marriage wasn’t ending because of his affair with Candace, and it wasn’t going to be saved because the affair was over. It was fatally flawed.
Nadine stepped out of the house, wheeling a suitcase. “Have you seen my mother?”
“She’s in her room,” Blythe said, squinting against the sun.
Nadine consulted her phone. “Can you tell her I’m going to visit friends for a few days? But I’ll be back.”
“Yes, I’ll let her know. She and Kelly are going away too.”
Nadine raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, looks like you’ll have the house all to yourself. How convenient. What are you doing, anyway?”
“Gardening.”
“Does my mother know you’re digging up her property?”
Blythe, summoning all the patience she could muster, said, “She knows, and she’s all for it. There’s nothing like garden-to-table food, Nadine. You might like it too.”
“You three have gotten really comfortable here,” Nadine said. “Just don’t get too comfortable.”
Where was all the hostility from? Did she really believe that Blythe had somehow hurt Nick? That he had run to Italy to get away from her? If she did, that was her problem.
But it sure as hell didn’t have to be Amelia’s. Blythe had an idea. Maybe a crazy idea, but an idea nonetheless. She walked into the house and poured herself a glass of water.
Think carefully about this, she told herself. Once you do it, it can’t be undone.
She went upstairs, pulled her barely used cell phone from her bedside-table drawer, and dialed Kip’s number.
“I was wondering if you’d call,” he said.
“Why did you rush off without saying good-bye?”
“I said good-bye when you left me to talk to Marin.”
“Yes, but I thought I’d see you later.” Silence. “Marin told me about your, um, conversation with her. Kip, why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”
“Blythe. It’s water under the bridge. Let’s not.”
How? How could they not talk about it? She supposed, in his mind, the marriage was over. Kip was very much like that; either things were being debated or the case was closed.
She’d thought, that moment at Pilgrims’ Park when he told her it was over with Candace, that he’d been making his way back to her. Clearly, she had been mistaken.
They had now been separated for four months. He’d come all the way out there to see Marin and didn’t say so much as a good-bye to Blythe. And then there was the deeply confusing news that he had known about her infidelity all along and never confronted her. Now it was all out in the open, and he couldn’t even be bothered to talk about it. It wasn’t worth his time. His mind was made up.
Understanding all of this should have made what she needed to ask easier. But it didn’t, and she found herself stalling. “What’s going on at work?”
“I’ve decided to take the package they’re offering. I’m leaving at the end of the year.”
“Oh, Kip. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you wanted.”
“I’m making the best of it. Marin’s feeling well?”
“Yes. She’s fine. But we all got some bad news. One of the women we’re staying with found out she had terminal cancer. It’s quite upsetting.”
“Marin’s grandmother?”
“No. Her partner.”
“I hope Marin isn’t taking it too hard. She needs to keep her spirits up.”
“She’s fine. I’m actually concerned about her grandmother—Amelia. That’s why I’m calling.” Deep breath. “There’s something I want to show her. It’s at the house and I was wondering if you could find it for me and mail it here.”
“I can do that.”
“It’s a shoe box. I know this is a lot to ask, but please don’t open it. Just put it in a FedEx pack and send the whole thing. It’s…personal.”
Blythe told him where to find the last words she’d ever heard from Nick Cabral.
Rachel rolled her yoga mat out on the front porch and stretched. Her original plan had been to take it to the beach, but she couldn’t wait to get there. She needed to meditate and quiet her mind. She was going to be an aunt! It was hard to keep a secret, but who would she tell, anyway?
She was excited, but at the same time, the news made her a little sad. Marin had her parents and now she would have a baby. Amelia and Kelly had each other. But at the end of the summer, Rachel would have to go back to LA and she would feel more alone than ever.
Rachel rolled onto her back.
“Rachel—you’re here,” Marin said, appearing on the top step. Rachel, surprised, looked up at her.
“Oh my God, Marin, hi! Congratulations! A baby! I can’t believe it.”
Marin’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. And then a gorgeous man with dark hair and big brown eyes appeared behind her.
“What did she just say?” he asked Marin.
Oops.
“Julian, this is my half sister, Rachel,” Marin said quickly, as if a conversational bomb had not detonated. “Rachel, this is my friend Julian. I’m just going to give him a fast tour of the house.”
Really, there was nothing she could do but nod as Marin took him by the hand and tugged him toward the kitchen. The “friend” glanced back at her, as if Rachel were going to offer up one last parting gem. She looked away.
Disaster! But how was she supposed to know someone was right behind Marin? She’d seen only Marin, and she was just so excited about the idea of becoming an aunt. Well, if that was the baby daddy, he had to find out sooner or later. Right?
Amelia made her way down the stairs, dragging luggage.
“Are you going somewhere?” Rachel asked. The idea of Amelia leaving was almost unthinkable, like the backyard table just getting up and walking away.
“Yes. Kelly and I are going on a little vacation. I’m hoping you can keep an eye on things while I’m gone? Please just check on Thomas for me on Thursday? It’s Paul’s turn for dinner, but I’d just feel better if you confirm with him.”
The front door opened and in walked a bunch of people Rachel had never seen before, a man and woman who looked to be in their forties and two young teenagers, a boy and girl. The boy carried a guitar case and the girl held a skateboard.
“Amelia!” The woman, stout and dark-haired, smiled and ran over to hug Amelia while the man waved from the doorway, a pile of bags at his feet.
“Joan…Frank. What are you doing here?” Amelia dropped her own bag.
“I know, right?” the woman said, looking around the room and beaming. “August already! Every time we walk in the door, it feels like we never left.”
Kelly walked down the stairs, and Amelia turned to her and whispered, “The Millers are here. I thought you said you were going to call them?”
“I forgot!”
An odd welcome ritual ensued, lots of catching-up talk that excluded Rachel. She looked at the two kids shuffling their feet and checking their phones while their parents exulted in their reunion with Amelia and Kelly. Finally, the woman turned to Rachel.
“Joan Miller,” she said, her hand outstretched. “Are you staying here too?”
“Oh! I’m sorry. Where is my head? Joan, this is my granddaughter Rachel.”
More exclamations. Joan didn’t know Amelia had a granddaughter! (Of course she didn’t. Amelia hadn’t known she had a granddaughter until three months ago.)
Kelly pulled Rachel aside.
“Listen, we have a somewhat awkward situation on our hands,” she said, breathing heavily. “The Millers have been coming here every summer for the past two decades. I canceled their reservation this year because we closed the inn, but clearly they didn’t get the memo. Now that they’re here, I can’t see making them leave, but Amelia really wants to get away for a few days—” A coughing fit interrupted her, and Amelia rushed over.
“Hon, go to the car. I’ll handle this,” she said, her face creased with concern.
“Amelia, I can take care of things here. Just tell me what to do,” Rachel said. Amelia glanced back at the Millers, who had congregated on the front porch while waiting for their room.
“Are you sure?” Amelia’s face was pinched with doubt.
“Yes. Absolutely. Just tell me what room to put them in and I’ll take care of it.”
“It’s a lot of work. The linens, breakfast…”
“I can handle it! It’s the least I can do. I mean, we all showed up here and never left. I feel bad that you and Kelly have to leave in order to get some peace and quiet—”
“Oh, my dear. That’s not it at all.”
“Just let me do this. Let someone do something for you for a change.”
“It would be a huge help,” Amelia admitted. “But only if you’re sure…”
“I’m sure,” Rachel said.
What could go wrong?