Their mother shook her head. “I still remember it like it was yesterday.”
The story was that their mother had wanted to have her twins on the mainland, in a bigger hospital. But the twins had other plans. They’d come nearly a month early and had been born at the clinic just up the road, where the father of one of their friends had served as doctor. The labor and delivery had not been easy, and their mother had had to be in the hospital for a little while, her heart breaking as she watched her husband take the twins home without her.
“That was a hard time,” their father said now, his face serious, echoing love.
“But we made it through,” their mother said.
For a moment, Willa caught a vibe between them that was something oddly romantic, charged with electricity. But a split second later, their mother was up, suggesting she make pancakes for breakfast before they set up for the party. Their father was ready to help.
The day was off to the races, with all essential members of the family involved.
The party was set for two thirty that afternoon. An hour before, Willa and Amelie went into Willa’s room to get ready, donning their party dresses and doing one another’s makeup. Neither of them could contain their enthusiasm for their mother being here.
“Do you see the way Dad’s looking at Mom?” Willa whispered, clutching her mascara.
Amelie nodded vigorously. “They’re totally in love, right? I mean, they have to be.”
Willa sat on the edge of her bed and gazed down at her feet. Already, she’d let herself imagine how challenging the next year would be without their mother: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter. How could they possibly celebrate any of it as a separatedfamily? And what would happen when Willa and Amelie graduated? Willa was secretly frightened that their mother would choose next summer to take off for greener pastures, for whatever life she thought waited for her off the island. She’d see Willa and Amelie as “grown” and “not needing her,” then. It would break Willa’s heart. It would break her father’s, too.
But maybe this birthday party would bring them back together again.
A few minutes before two thirty, the doorbell rang. Willa and Amelie scampered downstairs to answer it. Right before Willa tugged open the door, she caught sight of her mother and father in the kitchen, talking in low voices, their noses just a few inches apart. Her heart seized. But she didn’t have time to investigate further. As soon as the door opened, Grandma Mary and Grandpa Jerry barged in, carrying presents for Willa and Amelie, and swallowing the girls in hugs.
“You look beautiful, darlings!” Grandma Mary cried. “Eighteen years old! How did this happen? Jerry, are we getting old?”
Grandpa Jerry cackled. “We’re not getting old, Grandma. Just they are.”
Their father came to greet his parents, but their mother remained in the kitchen, prepping food for the party. Not for the first time, Willa sensed animosity between her mother and grandmother. She remembered that long-ago afternoon, when their mother had lectured Amelie and Willa about life off the island, how they should want something more than working at a fudge shop. She guessed her grandmother wasn’t entirely keen on that kind of talk.
But there wasn’t time to linger in darkness. Soon, their house was filled with aunts, uncles, cousins, islanders, and friends. Even Rosemary, who owned the cottage far down the lane and around the bend, came by, carrying homemade presents andplenty of cookies. There were two immaculate cakes—one for Amelie and one for Willa, with Amelie’s a strawberry flavor and Willa’s a peanut butter chocolate.
“My sweet girls,” their mother kept saying, hugging them once every half an hour or so. “I can’t believe it!”
About an hour into the party, a shadow darkened the front door. Willa watched as her father opened it to greet whoever was there. The eighteen-year-old boy who walked in looked far more like a man than he had last summer, with his dark hair and his stern expression. Marius Isaacson carried a brightly wrapped package and wore a pair of dark jeans that made him look more like a rock star than a guy who worked with horses. Willa felt unstable on her feet.
“Uh-oh,” Amelie said, catching her. “I know that expression. He’s here, isn’t he?” Amelie followed Willa’s gaze through the kitchen, living room, and into the foyer. “What are you waiting for? Go say hi!”
Since summer, it had felt like Willa and Marius were circling one another, waiting for the other to make a move. After their hangout at the lake in late summer, when Marius had suggested that it was hard for a married couple to stay in love, Willa had been angry with him, so much so that she’d avoided him for weeks. Eventually, he’d tracked her down and apologized. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have your mom move out,” he’d said, his eyes wet. She’d thought he was going to kiss her, but a few of his friends had come by, interrupting them.
But now, Marius was inside her house. He was coming toward her, carrying her present, his eyes filled with purpose. Willa raised her chin and tried to act like the regal woman she knew she needed to be (at least, that was how they put it in the magazines she read about love and dating).
“Happy Birthday, Willa,” Marius said. “And to you, too, Amelie.”
Amelie laughed. “I’m surprised you remembered it was my birthday too!”
Marius gave her a panicked look, as though he hadn’t expected to be called out like that. But in a flash, Amelie was gone, leaving Willa and Marius to gaze at each other.
“Let’s go outside,” Willa said, surprised by how daring she felt.
They went out the back door and stood in the October sunlight. Marius had brought the present with him, but rested it now on the chair beside the door, the one Willa’s father always sat in after work to watch the sunset. Marius looked like he didn’t know where to put his hands.
“How does it feel?” Marius asked her.
Willa raised her eyebrows.
“To be eighteen, I mean,” he said.
Willa smiled. “How does it feel for you?” Marius had turned eighteen about a month ago, but he hadn’t opted for a party, presumably because he was too shy for one.
