Hannah thinks a lot about trust in the coming days. Even though she had a closer relationship with her father, her mother was the one who took care of her when she was sick and picked her up on time from school and her many extracurricular activities. Even when her mother had a few too many drinks at night, Birdie was always up early to feed Hannah a hearty breakfast before she left for school.
When, exactly, did she stop trusting her mom? The question plagues Hannah’s thoughts. And the answer comes to her in a moment of clarity. When her father abandoned them. Hannah didn’t lose faith in her mom. Her father is the one she no longer trusts.
Hannah studies Birdie as she works in the kitchen—her intense focus and serene expression as she rolls out pastries—and the way she interacts with customers. The patrons enjoy talking to her. How did Hannah not know her mother was so charming and witty? Because she doesn’t know Birdie, the person, at all. She only knows Birdie, the mom. Birdie, the parent who provided services for her. Her father was the parent who provided the fun.
Hannah tries harder to get along with Birdie. And she senses Birdie trying harder, too. The last thing I want is for you to move to California. Is it possible Birdie really means it?
Hannah thinks often about her conversation with Liza. I love being on the coast. Salt water runs through my veins. Hannah feels the same way. The inlet is the one constant in her life she can rely on. She can count on the tides to rise and fall every twelve hours. For the wildlife to reproduce and feed their offspring. For the marsh to change colors with the seasons—from green to yellow to brown.
With Birdie back at work, Hannah gains time to focus her attention on web design. Redoing the florist website for Miss Allison is mundane work. But building a website from scratch to showcase Miss Jenny’s library of romance novels offers real gratification. Miss Jenny is thrilled with the outcome and recommends Hannah’s services to many of her author friends. And overnight, Hannah has more business than she can manage.
As July transitions into August, Hannah becomes increasingly more uncomfortable. She feels like she’s carrying around a seven-pound watermelon. The baby presses on her bladder, and she has to pee every few minutes. Until now, she’s gotten by with wearing her stretched-out yoga pants and gym shorts with T-shirts, but when those garments no longer fit, she rifles through Birdie’s box of old maternity clothes for the least offensive garments.
On Wednesday of the first week of August, Max and Hannah take Birdie to Shaggy’s to celebrate her birthday. They’ve no sooner been seated at a table on the deck when Max receives a call from her night desk clerk. “I have an emergency at the hotel,” she explains when she hangs up. “I’ll come back if I can, but don’t wait for me.”
Hannah suspects a setup. Max wanted Hannah and Birdie to have dinner together alone. The weather is pleasant and the food delicious as always. They talk about the pros and cons of adding e-commerce to the bakery website while they eat.
“Let’s give it a shot,” Birdie says. “Worst-case scenario, it ends up being too much for us to handle and we take it down.”
“I’ll look into it tomorrow,” Hannah says.
The waiter clears their dinner plates and brings two slices of turtle pie. “Courtesy of Max,” he says as he lights a candle in Birdie’s pie. Other waitstaff gather around and sing “Happy Birthday” to a blushing Birdie.
Hannah catches her mom eyeing a glass of wine on a nearby table. “Is it hard not drinking?”
“You have no idea. But I hope you never have to find out.” Birdie sets her fork down next to the half-eaten slice of pie. “I had so much time to think while I was hiding out in my room, but it wasn’t until I came back to work that the fog lifted, and I was able to see things clearer. You asked me recently if your father was the reason I started drinking. For the longest time, I blamed my unhappiness and subsequent drinking problem on him. But the truth is, I have no one to blame but myself.”
Hannah leans in, as close as the baby will allow. “You don’t have to tell me all this, Mom. I know it must be hard to talk about.”
Birdie shakes her head. “I need to say it. Make no mistake, Hannah, I willingly gave up nursing to be a stay-at-home mom for you. Those were the happiest years of my life, and I would do it all over again given the choice. But as you got older, you needed me less and less. My days lost their purpose, and I became lonely, and I started drinking. I should’ve taken responsibility for my own life instead of relying on you and your father to provide my happiness. I’m only human. I make mistakes. But I am trying.”
Hannah nods. “I can see that.”
Birdie’s lips turn up in a soft smile. “And I can see you are too.”
Hannah straightens in her chair. “I have my weekly appointment with Dr. Pendleton late tomorrow afternoon. If Sadie and Amanda will close the bakery, maybe you can come with me.”
Birdie doesn’t hesitate. “I would absolutely love that.”
The sound of her grandchild’s heart beating takes Birdie’s breath away. She heard this sound often as an ER nurse, but never coming from inside her daughter’s womb. How could she have encouraged her daughter to have an abortion? To put her baby up for adoption?
“Strong heartbeat,” Dr. Pendleton says and moves on to the pelvic examination. “The baby has dropped, you’re fully effaced, and three centimeters dilated. You could go into labor at any time.”
Hannah’s olive eyes grow wide. “But I’m not due for another week.”
Pendleton removes her surgical gloves. “And it may be another week before this baby’s ready to come. But I highly doubt it.”
After the appointment, mother and daughter walk in silence out to the car. “What’re you thinking?” Birdie asks as she drives out of the parking lot.
“That I’m not ready for this.”
Birdie glances over at her. “Few women are ever ready to become mothers for the first time.”
“I’m emotionally ready. But I haven’t finished preparing.” Hannah shifts her gaze from the window to Birdie. “I’ve written all my thank-you notes, but I haven’t gone through my shower gifts or washed any of the baby clothes. The baby book talks about nesting. But I haven’t experienced that urge.” Her expression is horror stricken. “Is there something wrong with me? Am I maternally flawed?”
Birdie pats Hannah’s thigh. “Not at all. You’re just unsettled, uncertain of where you’ll be living.”
Hannah furrows her brow. “You mean, because I don’t have my own apartment?”
“Because you’re moving to California.” Birdie parks the car behind the bakery but leaves the engine and air conditioner running. She repositions her body toward Hannah. “Are you sure this move is what you really want?”
Hannah pauses for a long time before she answers. “Honestly, no. But I already accepted the job. They gave me a signing bonus.”
“I have some money stashed away. I can—”
“No! That’s not it. I haven’t spent a dime of the bonus. I can give it back. Are you sure you want me to stay here?”
“More than anything. I owe you an apology, sweetheart. I was wrong in encouraging you to put the baby up for adoption. Won’t you please consider staying on Palmetto Island?”
“I’m not sure, Mom. I have to think about it.” Hannah gets out of the car and hurries inside.
Birdie throws the car in reverse and speeds down the alley to Ocean Avenue. She’s trying so hard, but nothing she’s doing is working. She’s going to lose her daughter. She waits for traffic to clear to take a left toward the liquor store. Don’t do it, Birdie. Don’t go down that path again. You will lose Hannah for sure. Before she changes her mind, she makes a right instead. As she drives over the causeway to the beach, she rolls down her window, inhaling the salty air. She’s made so many mistakes, been wrong about so many things, but she’s going to survive. She heard her grandchild’s heartbeat today. Hannah’s flesh and blood. Birdie’s flesh and blood. All is right with the world. If she has to move out to California to be near Hannah, so be it.
She makes a U-turn and drives back over the causeway, stopping in at the seafood market on her way home.
Hannah greets her at the top of the stairs. “Where’d you go?” she asks in an accusatory tone.
“To get some soft-shell crabs for our dinner.” Birdie holds up the shopping bag as evidence.
“Yum. I’m going through the baby shower gifts. Wanna help?”
“Sure! Let me put these in the fridge, and I’ll be right there.”
Hannah and Birdie spend the evening getting Hannah’s room ready for the baby. It’s after nine o’clock before they work on dinner. Birdie sautés the soft-shells while Hannah chops up cabbage for coleslaw and butters chunks of warmed cornbread.
They take their dinner on trays up to the apartment and sit by the window watching lightning crack off in the distance as they eat. “Looks like a storm’s coming,” Hannah says.
“According to the weather report, it’s supposed to storm all night.” Birdie drags a crab claw through her puddle of tartar sauce and pops it in her mouth. “I have a confession to make. When I left here this afternoon, I was headed to the liquor store. But the thought of losing you for good made me go the other way. If you’re determined to go to California, I’ll sell the bakery and come with you. I want to help raise your baby. More than anything, I want to be a part of his or her life.”
A smirk appears on Hannah’s lips. “I made an impulse decision while you were gone. I hope you approve.”
Birdie pinches off a bite of cornbread. “My days of judging you are over. Whatever you did, whether or not I approve, I’ll support you.”
“I called Jeff Brandon, my contact at the company in California. I told him I’m not taking the job.”
Birdie’s jaw falls open. “What’d he say?”
“He was very professional and understanding. I didn’t tell him about the baby, but I admitted our family has been through a recent crisis, meaning Dad’s disappearance, and I felt like I needed to stay closer to home.”
“That’s wonderful news, honey. But are you sure?”
“I’m absolutely positive. I’ve been having doubts about this job all summer. And not just about the logistics of living in California. I think cyber security would bore me to tears. My web design business is booming. I really want to see where that takes me.”
Tears fill Birdie’s eyes. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”
“I’m happy too, Mom. We still have some issues to work through, though. I can’t have you drinking around the baby.”
“I understand, sweetheart. I’ll do my best.”
“And that’s good enough for me.” Hannah sets her tray on the coffee table and rises slowly off the sofa. “I’m gonna get some more tea. Do you want some?”
Birdie smiles up at her daughter. “I’m fine. But thank you.”
Hannah takes a step toward the stairs and doubles over with a hand pressed against her abdomen. “Oh, God. I think my water just broke.”
Birdie looks down at the small puddle at Hannah’s feet. “Let’s get you to the hospital.” She jumps up and carries their trays to the kitchenette.
“Mom!” Hannah shrieks. “I feel like I need to push.”
“That’s the baby bearing down on your cervix. You have hours before it’s time to push.”
Birdie grabs her purse and Hannah’s small overnight bag, and they head off to the hospital. The storm is raging, and she’s forced to drive slowly in order to see the road through the driving rain. Hannah’s contractions are closer together, the pain intensifying with each one.
“Mom! It hurts so bad. Am I dying?”
“No, honey. You’re having a baby. Hang in there. We’re almost at the hospital.”
In the parking lot, Birdie finds a space close to the entrance and they hurry inside the emergency room. While filling out the paperwork, Hannah says, “I’m scared, Mom. Please don’t leave me.”
Birdie cups her daughter’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
As with most first babies, Hannah’s labor is long, and Hannah pushes for what seems like hours before giving birth to a healthy baby boy.
Hannah’s eyes glaze over. “A boy,” she repeats as she falls back against the pillows. The nurse swaddles the baby and places the bundle in Hannah’s arms. “Meet your son.”
After Dr. Pendleton delivers the placenta, she says, “We’ll give you a minute alone,” and exists the room, taking the nurses with her.
Birdie pulls the blanket away from the baby’s face to get a better look. “He’s beautiful, Hannah. Does he have a name?”
With tears on her cheeks, Hannah says, “I’m going to name him Augustus. Gus for short.”
This surprises Birdie. The name sounds so old-fashioned. “Augustus is a fine name, a strong and dignified name.” A family name, she thinks but doesn’t say out loud.
“Augustus is his father’s middle name.”
Birdie’s heart skips a beat. “You mean, you know who the father is?”
“Duh, Mom. I’m not the kinda girl who sleeps around. We were in a relationship. We broke up after he cheated on me. He doesn’t know about the baby, and I have no intention of telling him.” Hannah kisses the top of the baby’s bald head. “This baby is mine. Promise me, you won’t tell anyone.”
Birdie eases down to the edge of the bed. “I’ll keep your secret, honey, but I urge you to reconsider. Whether it’s five, ten, or fifteen years down the road, this decision will one day come back to haunt you.”