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The ever-competent Amelia made a very good argument for them all to return home to get some sleep. “Mila is sleeping. Isabelle is sleeping. The best we can do is get some rest ourselves so we can be here tomorrow to help out in any way we can.” The other Sisters agreed with reluctance. It felt like sacrilege to be allowed to depart the hospital when one of their own was strapped to a hospital bed.
Liam was despondent. He hung outside his police car with his hands stretched over the front of it as though he planned to arrest himself. The words, “She might not walk again,” had triggered him into a full-on collapse. Jennifer watched from the front seat of Derek’s car as Liam mumbled to himself.
“We should take him home ourselves,” she whispered.
“I already asked. He wants to be alone.”
“People don’t always know what they need,” Jennifer returned, feeling sharp-edged and out of her own body.
Derek turned to meet her eyes. He drew a hand over her hand and cupped it gently. “You’re a very kind, very thoughtful person, and if Liam was one of your best friends, I would agree with you. But that man has fallen into a dark pit and only he can dig his way out of it.”
At that moment, Liam leaped into his police car and screeched his tires all the way to the exit, where he careened out of sight. Jennifer’s heart skipped a beat.
Derek was extra-cautious on the drive back from the hospital to the home they now shared. Jennifer had sold the house she’d raised Nick in back in the summer and moved her belongings to Derek’s smaller and more artistically refined condominium. The space was oddly luxurious, with deep carpeting and hardwood floors in the dining room and kitchen. Still, it echoed without the texture of memories Jennifer’s old house on Green Hollow Road had had, which occasionally made her feel hollow.
Once inside, Derek rubbed her shoulders as she drooped onto the couch. She moaned inwardly but soon found the touch annoying. She turned away from him, then a moment later, Derek entered their bedroom, removed his suit, and reappeared in a white t-shirt and boxers. He was a mix of handsomeness and vulnerability with his cerulean eyes glittering and his black hair mangy, like a rock star.
“I love you, Jen. You staying up with your friends like that until you knew about Mila’s surgery... It’s an act of love that just reminds me what kind of person I’m with. I’m so lucky to know you.”
Jennifer wasn’t prepared for such compliments. Pretty words couldn’t fix Mila’s legs. They couldn’t turn the clock twelve hours back to before this all had happened.
“Come to bed?” Derek breathed.
Jennifer rubbed her eyes with stiff fingers. Mila had always told her not to do that. As their forever-esthetician, she’d made it her mission to demand better skincare for all and create “wrinkle-proof” habits. How silly that all seemed now.
Jennifer lay back on the five-hundred-count sheets and stared through the dark air above their bed. Derek shifted into a deep sleep almost immediately; his breath rose and fell like a song. There was no way in hell Jen would find sleep that night. She shifted slightly to catch sight of the alarm clock on the bedside table. It read: 3:34.
If she left for the Frosted Delights Bakery in twenty minutes, she would be slightly early for the first shift. She texted Colleen; the worker meant to open the bakery that morning and explained she’d do it.
JENNIFER: Go back to sleep, Colleen!
COLLEEN: What? You’re a lifesaver.
Jennifer showered in the bathroom furthest from the master bedroom. Her scrubbing took on new dimensions of violence as she wanted to rid herself of the horrors of the previous day and prepare for the new, even without a blink of sleep. When she arrived at the Frosted Delights, her hair was still wet and wrapped in a winter hat. She avoided mirrors to try to trick her mind into thinking she was ready.
There was a peacefulness being at the Frosted Delights Bakery so early on a late-autumn morning. The darkness seemed all-encompassing on the outside, a never-ending black that ate up any of the light. The luminescence within the Frosted Delights seemed the only antidote— that and the buckets and buckets of donut dough Jennifer had to swirl together to make fresh batches.
Vanilla-stuffed. Caramel-coated. Lavender-and-sea-salt. Chocolate-galore. The flavors covered everything from new-age NYC-favorites, many of which Emma reported back to her, and classic ones that never went out of style. Besides the Oak Bluffs’ Sunrise Cove Bistro, which sold a fine collection of baked bread and croissants, the Frosted Delights Bakery was the most sought-after bakery on the island— the perfect mid-morning treat for everything from celebrations to rainy days.
As Jennifer stirred and baked and puffed vanilla cream into pastries, tears rained down her cheeks. The sorrow felt like a perpetual storm between her chest and her stomach. The pressure was such that she almost Googled, “What does it feel like to have a heart attack?” but soon stopped herself, as there was nothing as sinister as getting information from the internet about what was wrong with you health-wise. It always gave the worst news.
Just past five-fifteen, after more than an hour hard at work in the back of the bakery, there was a rap at the front window. Jennifer scuttled out in her apron and her winter hat, prepared to tell whoever stopped by that they didn’t open till six-thirty, and everyone who was everyone knew that.
When she appeared in the main seating area of the bakery, however, she stopped short at a very beautiful, very comforting sight.
There, on the other side of the glass, stood a bundled-up man of six-foot-three, with wide-set eyes and a gorgeous, familiar smile.
Jennifer unlatched the door hurriedly and whipped her arms around him.
“Joel!” Even the word was alarmingly beautiful as it left her tongue. She latched onto him tightly, unwilling to let go. Another cry in a series of sobs escaped her throat, and she burrowed her head in his shoulder and prayed for herself to pull it together.
“There she is. I knew you’d be here,” Joel murmured into her hair.
Jennifer beckoned for him to enter. The previous day’s autumn warmth had receded and left a blistering chill. Joel stepped inside and rubbed his palms together as his brow furrowed.
“I know. I look rough,” Jennifer admitted as she tapped her hat.
“No, you don’t. You never do,” Joel assured her. He hovered in the dark shadows of the seating area. He didn’t have to say it, but he did. “I heard about Mila.”
Jennifer’s heart pounded. For some reason, hearing Joel say it gave the reality even more dimension. She turned to head back into the kitchen area, but Joel followed after her and whipped through the swirling kitchen door directly behind.
Jennifer hovered outside of an oven as the current batch of donuts sizzled. She couldn’t bring herself to look Joel in the eye.
“It was terrible, Joel,” she whispered, knowing full-well she couldn’t hide anything like this from Joel Porter. “We had been waiting on her to meet us all day. And then, just like that— everything changed. We stayed outside of the hospital until we knew she made it through surgery. But it sounds like it’s going to be a long road ahead.”
The oven beeped. Jennifer made her way over and creaked the oven door open and removed the large slab of baked goods. The aroma waved over them, sinful and cinnamon-y. Just after its removal, another batch went in.
Joel then instructed her to sit. He poured them both cups of coffee and selected two donuts from the already-baked, already-cooled slab, both of which had a gooey vanilla cream on the inside. Jennifer sipped her coffee and tried to override her exhaustion, but she knew it was no use.
“You’re going to see her today?” Joel asked softly.
Jennifer nodded. “As soon as the visiting hours begin, we’ll all be there. I have no idea if she’ll be awake or not, but to tell you the truth, I’m terrified. How will Mila hear the news that she might never walk again? She’s been unconscious since the accident. For her, the past twelve hours haven’t happened. Now she’ll wake up to a nightmare.”
Joel nodded. His face echoed his compassion.
“She’ll need you every step of the way. That’s for sure,” he told her.
“Yes.” Jennifer caught Joel’s eyes as she took another sip of coffee. “Thank you for being here for me. Checking in on me and everything. It means a lot.”
Joel shrugged. “I knew you were hurting. I couldn’t just let you live in that by yourself.”
“Derek tried to help. He was really sweet. I just couldn’t help but think, well, he hasn’t been around all these years. Maybe he doesn’t really get it.”
“Maybe you need to give him the benefit of the doubt,” Joel offered softly. “Because I get the sense he really loves you. As jealous as that sometimes makes me...”
“You? Joel Porter? Jealous?” She was surprised she had the strength to tease him.
“I know. It’s never been seen before,” Joel affirmed. “But it happened. Nick’s wedding, actually. I was like, who is that handsome man dancing with my wife? And then it all hit me again.” He gave a half-shrug, then added, “I know it was for the best, but sometimes the best is just a little bit sad.”
Jennifer nodded and dropped her eyes once more. Outside, another person wrapped their knuckles against the glass.
“What in the heck...”
“I got it.”
Joel leaped up as Jennifer called out, “Tell them we don’t open till six-thirty!”
But at a moment, Joel reappeared with another familiar and beautiful sight: Jennifer’s son, Nick. Jennifer jumped up to hug him as another sob overtook her.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”
Nick was now a man with a man’s strength. This meant his hug was nearly as good as his father’s hug— warm and powerful, the kind that made you remember you stood on solid ground.
“You okay?” Nick asked as Jennifer stepped back.
“Oh, sure. I’ll be okay,” Jennifer murmured as her eyesight blurred. She then spun around to gather Nick’s favorite chocolate-glazed donut and a cup of coffee, which she sat before him at the table.
“I can’t believe I have my two guys here,” she said gently. “I can’t even remember the last time it was just the three of us.”
Nick sipped his coffee. “Dad texted me about the accident. There was no way I’d be anywhere else.”
Jennifer’s heart lifted. She hadn’t seen much of Nick since the wedding, as he and Stacy had admitted they needed a “social” break after greeting two-hundred and seventeen guests. He’d been around for only a little while on Thanksgiving before meeting up with Joel later in the day.
“How’s Stacy?” Jennifer asked although she was grateful Stacy wasn’t there.
Nick dropped his eyes for a moment. The corners of his lips curved slightly into a smile.
“Maybe this isn’t the perfect time to tell you this,” he began, before stuttering, “But she’s pregnant. Around three months. It’s finally time to tell people.”
The potential news of this had freaked Jennifer out only a week before at Nick’s wedding. Now, confirmation of it felt like a bright light in the darkness. She jumped up and kissed Nick on the cheek as Joel banged his fist on the table.
“A grandfather? Are you sure that’s what you want me to be?” Joel demanded as he, too, hugged his son.
Nick laughed outright. “You’ll be wonderful.”
Joel’s eyes shone with excitement. “You and me, Jen— grandparents. Can you imagine? What do you think of that?”
Jennifer’s stomach tensed with a mix of fear and joy. “Guess I’d better learn how to knit, huh?”
“Naw. You’ve got the baking thing down. That’s good enough,” Nick told her.