A perfect summer day for walking the historic city, there was a breeze blowing from the ocean that tempered the heat of the August sun. Since Gus had never been to Newport, she suggested they tour one mansion, then hike the Cliff Walk, a path above the cliffs with spectacular ocean views on one side and close-up peeks at the “summer cottages” lining the walkway. These elegant mansions with their beautiful gardens and sweeping lawns had been the summer homes of the wealthy in the city’s golden age. Some were still privately owned, while many had become holdings of the Newport Preservation Society and were open to the public.
After a tour of the Breakers, the most famous of the summer cottages, originally built and owned by Cornelius Vanderbilt, they walked along Bellevue Avenue to Memorial Boulevard then onto the start of the Cliff Walk. They held hands, talking amiably about Valley life and Richard Morgan’s new stables. While comforted by his nearness and presence, Lynn’s mind was unsettled as she anticipated telling him about the pregnancy. What will he say? Will it destroy our precious time together?
They reached a rocky beach area at the far end of the walk, and she swallowed hard. “Gus, that path leads back to Bellevue It’s only a short walk from this end to the B and B. Can we sit a minute?”
“Of course,” he said, eying her. “You look pale. Are you okay?”
She sat on a flat boulder and patted the space beside her. “I’m fine. There’s…there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Of course.” He sat and took her hands in his, green eyes soft.
“I wanted to tell you earlier, but wanted… Well, it’s the kind of thing you want to say in person.”
“I love you too,” he said.
Lynn smiled at his kind face, so open and caring. “I love you, but that’s not it. I… We… I’m… Well, I’m pregnant. I don’t know how or when it happened, but the baby is yours. I don’t know how you feel about it, and I’m not asking for anything.” As she spoke, his expression changed from warmth to shock. “I have already made the decision to keep the baby. If it’s too much for you with Dulcie and Cal, I understand. I just thought you should know.
“Gus? Gus, are you okay?”
“When?”
“I don’t know. I’m guessing one of those times we thought a condom might do double duty?”
He smiled. “No, I mean when is the baby due?”
“Oh, March, sometime in March.”
“Are you okay? I mean are you feeling okay?”
“A little morning sickness, but otherwise fine. I talked to the Morgans before I came east, and they were very supportive about both their day care directors being with child, then parenting and running the Cottage.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said quietly.
A chill ran through her. Lynn tried to discern Gus’s reaction. He seemed almost numb, distant. Abruptly, she stood. “I think we should head back.”
“Okay,” he said, following her up the path.
They walked in uncomfortable silence on the rough dirt path that led back to the streets of Newport. As they regained the sidewalk and started along Bellevue Lynn felt unbidden tears welling up. He’s gone. I don’t know what I expected, but it appears I’ll be raising this baby alone.
Lynn nodded to Dottie as they entered the B and B. Sherry in hand, she was holding court in the blue parlor, a young couple sitting beside her. “Join us, dears!” she called, but Lynn was already halfway up the stairs. “Thanks,” Gus said. “We’ve gotta get ready for dinner.”
When he reached the room, Lynn had taken her bag into the bathroom and shut the door. He changed shirts and grabbed a sweater, then sat on the sofa, gazing out at Dottie’s garden, a riotous mix of colors, slightly wild and overgrown. Finally, Lynn emerged. She had changed into a pale green summer dress and thin, strappy sandals, her hair pulled back, wearing silver earrings and necklace. She almost glowed in the fading light.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly.
“Thanks. I’m ready if you are.” She grabbed her bag and made for the door.
Gus wanted to speak, to say something that would make things right, to smooth things over so they could regain what they’d had only hours before, but instead, he stayed silent.