The Beach House (42 page)

I’m forty, I’m pregnant. And I’m not drowning in anger, not struck useless with dread
.

She placed a hand on her tummy, which hadn’t gone back to anywhere near flat since Abigail’s birth. Plenty of space for a little one to take up residence and keep it a secret for a while.

A little one. Technically, counting the miscarriage, this was the sixth to move in.

Thou didst weave me in my mother’s womb
.

“Oh, Lord,” she whispered, “there really is a person in here.”

“What?” Jo asked.

She cleared her throat. “I didn’t want to come to terms with things, but I guess maybe I am closer than I was.”

“What do you mean you didn’t want to? Isn’t acceptance of the situation simply an act of your will?”

Your will, not mine. Yours, Lord, Yours
.

She said, “I could fight tooth and nail against filling a pew with my own kids. I could deny and complain and blame others. Those are powerful tools. I’m sure I’ll use them yet because they give me a sense of control.” She shook her head. “No, my only act of the will was to consciously, all day long, let go of what seems like control.”

Jo drove in silence, her mouth a straight line.

A few blocks down the road, though, she flicked a finger at the corner of her eye.

Molly found that gesture more hopeful than anything.

Andie relished in the peaceful Sunday with her friends. Occasionally a wave of panic would wash through her, engulfing her heart with fear. To think that twelve hours ago she had said what she said to Paul! Was it horribly unfair to him? Was it horribly ugly?

Then Molly, Char, or Jo would say “Let it go,” referring to whatever subject they happened to be discussing at the time. It fit everything they talked about. Since the church service on the beach that morning, the phrase had become the byword of the day. It kept making her smile, and the panic frittered away like waves on the shoreline.

They strolled through an enormous desert garden. She had no idea such numerous succulents existed—and in all shapes and sizes. Their scents were subtle, a sweet dryness.

“Incredible!” Molly said, not for the first time. “Look at this cactus. It’s got to be twelve feet tall!”

“Oh, look at this one!” Char exclaimed from another path. “Then I’ll come see yours.”

A synthesizer version of a Bach minuet sang out energetically from Andie’s purse. She jumped.

Char, Jo, and Molly swung to face her, their expressions not as calm as a moment before.

“Sorry!” she called out and unzipped her bag.

They should have listened to Molly and never turned on their cell phones. But then Jo would not have heard her news, and that had been such a wonderful thing to share as it happened. The timing too meant they were able to see her building, her potential new home.

She read the ID screen and shook her head at Molly. It wasn’t Scott. It wasn’t Paul’s cell either. “My house.”

As the others went back to roaming through the cacti, she answered. “Hello.”

“Hey, Mom.” It was Zach.

“Mom?” And Jadon on an extension. “How’s it going?”

Zach said, “Catch any waves today?” They both laughed. They were still incredulous over her atypical behavior.

“No, not today. I skipped the boogie boarding and went out for breakfast instead. How are you guys?”

They chitchatted for a time. Andie discerned they had no idea about the morning’s conversation with their dad, and she was grateful he had not confided in them.

“So, Mom,” Zach said. “We have something of an emergency here.”

“Emergency?” Quick as a heartbeat, panic swelled in her chest.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “We just need a permission thingamajig signed and Dad’s not around. But Coach said if you call him, he’ll accept Aunt Jen’s signature. She said she’ll sign. It needs to be turned in tomorrow.”

Jen was Paul’s sister, their nearest relative.

“Okay.” Andie swallowed, trying to steady her voice and to not yell
Where is your father
?

“Give me the coach’s number. Wait.” She rummaged in her purse for the nifty notepad and pen that should have been in their own special compartment. She couldn’t locate the compartment, but her blurry eyesight and shaking fingers finally found a scrap of paper and another pen. “All right.”

Zach provided the number. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Mm-hmm. So where is your dad?”

“I think he said Milwaukee. Some meeting early tomorrow. He left this morning.”

Milwaukee was not a whole day’s drive from Madison. “Why did he leave already?”

She could almost hear Zach’s shrug. Neither of her sons was interested in the real estate business. Zach wanted to coach; Jadon wanted to be a forest ranger.

“He said something about setting things up. For a seminar maybe? I don’t know.”

“Are you going to spend the night at Aunt Jen’s?” They hadn’t done that for ages, not since declaring the little cousins were monsters to be avoided at all costs.

They groaned in unison.

“Mom, I’m sixteen. Jadon is almost eighteen,” Zach complained. “We have a car, we have food, we have money. We can get ourselves to school on time. We’re not afraid to spend the night alone. Heck, we did last night. I don’t know what time Dad came in.”

After six
AM
.

“He had a party to go to. By the way, Zach and I were in by eleven.”

“That’s great, but…but….” She bit her lip.

Zach said, “But what? We’re fine. You don’t have to worry.”

“But you’re not grown-up. You’re still only teenagers!”

“It’s football season. No girls, no booze, no partying if either of them are involved. No skipping class. Okay? We promise.”

Sports meant everything to them. They wouldn’t jeopardize their eligibility. They were disciplined beyond what she could have hoped for. They were good boys. At times she had even been embarrassed when other moms complained about their teens and she had nothing to add to the woeful conversation.

“But—”

“Mom,” Zach said. “Will it help if we tell the Smiths and the Hadaceks we’re here alone?” He mentioned neighbors who would pay attention if informed.

“I suppose.” She wanted to tell them of her plans to stay longer in San Diego. How could she do that now? “I feel like your parents have abandoned you.”

They hooted. “Mom!” Jadon said. “Let it go!”

Let it go. Let be
.

All right, Lord
.

Her sons were fine.

The desert landscape provided no benches, no grass, only narrow blacktop paths and dirt. Lots of dry dusty earth.

And a few big rocks.

Andie lunged toward one and plopped onto it before her legs gave out. Like a downed soldier, she waited. Within moments Jo, Molly, and Char surrounded her.

“What happened?”

She told them about the conversation with Zach and Jadon.

Char laid a hand on her shoulder. “They sound so grown-up, sugar. They’ll be just fine. You’ve done a great job with them, Mom.”

Molly said, “Milwaukee is not that far away. And surely he’ll call them.”

“I don’t know. A week ago he didn’t have any business scheduled in Milwaukee. Maybe he’s not even that far away. Maybe he’s just at
her
place. Maybe he’ll check in with them. Oh! How can I ever tell them I’m leaving their dad? I couldn’t even tell them I’m not coming home until next week!”

Jo scrunched down on her haunches. “I know I’m the inexperienced one in the group as far as husbands and kids go. But it seems to me you have just described a highly undisciplined, sneaky, self-centered man. You think they don’t know this about him?”

She stared at Jo.

“They’re obviously smart kids. My bet is they’ve deduced a whole lot more about him than you might realize.”

Molly said, “It would explain why neither one are the least bit interested in his work. From what you told me before, the only thing they all have in common is him watching them play sports.”

Char leaned over and hugged her tightly. “Let it go, sugar. Let it go.”

They ate dinner in a starkly decorated restaurant. Footsteps and voices echoed in a low drone off the wooden floor and high ceilings. Framed prints for sale hung about the large open room. They were of a postmodern style Molly would have to study for an incredibly long time to comprehend the astronomical price tags. Rich coffee aromas mixed with those of exotic spices. Only organic fruits and vegetables and whole grains and hormone-free meats were served, not counting the dessert menu they’d already perused. Plenty of regular old fat and sugar available there. It was definitely a Molly place, perfect for her do-over celebration.

“Hey!” Char exclaimed. “I just thought of something! Maybe Paul is on his way here! Like Cam!”

Andie couldn’t help but smile at Char across the table. Her expression was that of a little girl who’d just opened a gift and found exactly what she wanted.

“I bet he is coming.”

“Paul wouldn’t—”

Three frowns cut off her statement of disbelief.

Char said, “Who would have ever imagined Cam waking up like he did?”

“He didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Well, no. Still, he just needed to hear what was on my mind. You told Paul what was on your mind. Trust me, it has thrown him for a loop. He’ll see what he’s about to lose and then he’ll hightail it out here. Flights from Madison simply take longer than Chicago’s.”

Molly said, “What would you do, Andie? If he came?”

She turned to her. “I don’t know what I’d do if he showed up. It’s almost impossible to imagine it happening.”

“Try?”

“Hmm.” She thought for a long moment, picturing Paul on the front doorstep of the beach house. He wasn’t smiling nor wearing a look of contrition or even concern. He should be doing at least one, but try as she might she couldn’t paint his face with any of those things. Judgment and condemnation had been there far too many years. Funny. She hadn’t realized that until now. He was always…polite about it.

Molly touched her forearm. “Imagine him doing everything you told him to do.”

Admit his transgression? Break off the relationship? Call a marriage counselor?

She shook her head. “He can’t do it because he doesn’t love the spunky me. I’m changing. I’m no longer naive and pliable. No longer the kind of wife he needs. He hasn’t done a thing I’ve asked him to do in—Oh, he probably never has, not really. Not unless it was in his best interests.”

Char said, “God might whack him over the head.”

“He might.” She smiled and changed the subject. “I’m ordering the triple chocolate cake. This letting go exercise needs a little coping support at the moment.”

“I hear you.” Char nodded. “I’m having apple pie à la mode. Organic sugar has less calories, right?”

“Right.”

Jo laughed. “Okay, you talked me into it. I’ll keep you company with the raspberry cheesecake.”

“White chocolate mousse for me.” Molly raised her water glass. “One for all, and all for one!”

“Hear, hear.”