“Welcome to weirdo land,” Barb Manguilli said to her sister as Lynn unpacked.
“What’s new with Mom and Dad?”
“Same ole same ole. At least we’re not in the middle of it anymore.”
Their parents were divorced, but still shared the same waterfront property in Groton, Connecticut. Their mom lived in the large rambling shingled house and their father in the two-bedroom carriage house at the opposite end of the estate.
“We’re all going to dinner tomorrow night, I hear.”
“Yup. More weirdness.”
“Are Barry and Molly coming?”
“Yup.”
“The kids?”
“To Chez Maarten with Dad? I don’t think so. No, they weren’t invited.”
“Geez.”
“They’ll be over Sunday for the day.”
“Good,” Lynn said. She loved her niece and nephew and hated being so far away from them.
“So, what’s new? You look great, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Kind of glowing,” Barb said, studying her. “Who’s the guy?”
“It’s not that, believe me,” Lynn said, plopping down on the bed beside her. “I mean there is a guy. His name is Gus. He’s amazing, but we’re kind of in a limbo state right now.” She related highlights of the relationship up until the present and his job back east.
“So are you gonna see him while you’re here? Or, more importantly, am I gonna meet him?”
“Maybe, we’re trying to figure something out.”
“Is he good-looking?”
“Yes.”
“So if Mr. Hot and Handsome isn’t the reason why you’re glowing, what is?”
Lynn looked over at her. “I’m pregnant.”
“No!”
“And I haven’t told Mom or Dad. I’m not sure I will, at least not for a few months.”
“She’s gonna know something’s up the minute she sees you, sis. You know how she is. ESP doesn’t begin to describe Sorcha Super Sleuth. Plus, you should see yourself. You’ve changed.”
Lynn shrugged. “Well, if she drags it out of me, so be it, but I’d rather not have the whole visit be about her wringing her hands and trying to find solutions for my big problem.” Sorcha Manguilli was a child psychiatrist, as was her ex-husband, Sol. They had met in medical school and still consulted each other on cases from time to time.
“She’s gonna know the minute you pass on wine for dinner. I mean, it’s Chez Maarten. Dad’ll be buying three-hundred-dollar bottles of who knows what.”
Lynn laughed. “So are you saying no one’s ever eaten a meal at Chez Maarten without swilling down gallons of overpriced wine?”
“Not in this family. I’d prepare yourself for the Inquisition.”
Sunday afternoon found Lynn and her family in Adirondack chairs facing the river, watching Barry and Molly’s kids roll around with Sorcha’s precious French bulldogs. Their Friday night dinner had gone smoothly, although it was clear her mother’s radar was up. Lynn had been avoiding her all weekend, shopping with Barb, seeing friends, and taking long walks. Gus had phoned on his way to the airport Sunday morning to say that he could break free for the day and night Wednesday, so she’d made reservations at a B and B in Newport, Rhode Island, as well as dinner reservations at the Fluke, her favorite Newport restaurant. She smiled, closing her eyes, basking in the sun. Lovely to have Wednesday night to look forward to with all its possibilities.
“Okay, Lynnie,” her mother said, interrupting her reverie. “Everyone’s out of earshot and it’s just you and me. What’s going on?”
Startled, she opened her eyes to spy Barry, Molly, Barb, and her father all chasing the kids down by the water’s edge. “I’m enjoying this weather and time with my family.” She squinted up at her stylish parent, who looked more like her sister than her mom. Sorcha’s salt-and-pepper hair was cut in a short, stylish bob, held back by designer sunglasses that probably cost a month of Lynn’s salary. She was dressed in capris and a simple linen top, flip-flops on her pedicured feet.
“Lynn Manguilli, don’t play coy with me. You aren’t drinking, you are floating on cloud nine one moment, in the dumps the next. I’m assuming there’s a man in this picture, but I’m also assuming you’re pregnant.”
Lynn looked out on the river, sighed, and turned to face her, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Yes, Mother, I’m pregnant. Yes, there’s a man. He doesn’t know about the baby. I just found out myself.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“The baby?”
“The whole mess!”
“There’s no mess.”
“How are you going to support yourself?”
“I have a job, remember? It pays me a huge salary and has wonderful benefits.”
“But what about when the baby comes?”
“He or she will come with me.”
“That’s absurd. What will your employers think of that?”
“They’re thrilled and very supportive.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Lynn sat up, now at the edge of her seat. “Mom, I’ve got this. I want the baby. I’m having the baby. Period, end of story.”
“What about the father?”
“I’m seeing him this Wednesday.”
“Oh, is he coming east?”
“He’s working in Massachusetts temporarily.”
“Oh, now I see why we’re graced with your presence. You really came east to see him.”
“Mom, Gus had nothing to do with me coming home. This trip was planned way before I knew he’d be back here or that I’d be pregnant. I just think he should know about the baby, and I want to tell him in person. I extended my time here by two days to make up for the quick overnight to Newport.”
“Oh, so you’re having an overnight with this Gus person. Gus? What kind of a name is that anyway? Is it short for Augustus?”
“I have no idea.”
“You mean to tell me that you’re having this man’s baby and you don’t even know his full name?”
Lynn stood. “This is why I didn’t say anything earlier.” She stalked off to join the others on the beach.
“Lynn! I’m not finished talking!”
Well, I am.