I popped another cracker in my mouth. "He did everything right."
She nodded slowly. "But you had a big fight?"
"I don't know what comes next for me, now that I'm not taking care of Dad anymore." I motioned toward the windows looking out onto the village of Talbott's Cove. "When I first came home, I thought it was for a short time. I remember telling the partners in my firm that I'd be gone for three months. Six at the most. I thought I'd be able to handle everything in that time. It made perfect sense to me that I'd merely 'handle' dementia in a quarter or two." I ate another cracker. "It's a couple months shy of three years."
"Aaaaaaand you live here now. You have people here. People who consider themselves your family. In case I'm not being clear, I count JJ among those people."
"Yeah? Maybe?" I shrugged, shook my head. "We've yelled at each other while naked for months. What does that amount to? It's not a solid relationship. It's not the kind of family you bring a kid into and hope everything falls into place. The best thing for me is to go back to New York."
Annette's eyebrow arched up as she sipped her wine. "Brooke, you'd rather leave someone before they have a chance to leave you."
"I object to that generalization. Simply because I'm contemplating it now doesn't mean it's my primary mode of handling shit," I replied.
"You know I love you and you know I say this from a place of love. I'm not trying to burn you at the stake."
I pushed to my feet and marched into the kitchen for a glass of water. "No, only men who don't understand the first thing about women and believe the uterus is where we hide our witchcraft burn us at stakes," I called over the sink. "It's always them with the torches."
"But JJ isn't holding a torch, honey," Annette said. "And he doesn't think you have witchcraft in your uterus. If I had to bet, I'd say he thinks there's a baby in there and he's wondering whether it will be born with a full beard or just a goatee."
I returned to the living room but couldn't sit. "He thinks Talbott's Cove is a fantastic place to live. He's traveled the world and hechoseto come back here."
"And I'd agree with him," she replied. "The Cove is not without fault, just like New York City and everywhere else in the world isn't without fault. But I'm happy here. If you'd stop resenting this town for a second, you might realize you're happy too. You might realize you resent it for reasons that have nothing to do with the town at all, but everything to do with your roots."
I stopped pacing, met her gaze. "I found you here—"
"I foundyou," she argued.
"We found each other," I said pointedly. "And I'm so thankful for that. For you. But it doesn't make sense for me to stay here, Annette."
"You'd rather leave than be left," she said. "You push, push, push. You make everyone prove they really want you by pushing so hard that only the most stubborn and defiant of us stick around. You make us prove how much we really want you by forcing us away and waiting to see if we'll return."
I banded an arm across my chest. "You make me sound like a manipulative psycho."
"No, honey. You're just like the rest of us. We're all dented and defective in our own little ways and we hold it together the best we can."
"You say that, but all I hear is 'manipulative psycho.'"
"Because you're not used to anyone wanting to help you hold it together. You don't know what it means to stick around and push through the discomfort of embracing something new and scary. You're not used to anyone seeing past all the barriers you put up and the ends to which you drive people."
"So…I'm just super fucked up. That's it, I'm super fucked up. Considering that, I should definitely leave. I can't live in a small town where everyone knows I'm super fucked up and watch them tiptoeing around me. That would make me even more fucked up."
"We're all fucked up, Brooke. Sometimes, you lean into it. I'm only pointing it out so you don't walk away from something—and someone—good." She paused, sampled more of the chocolate. "You should know that if you leave, he'll follow. He'll abandon his distillery. He'll go to New York, he'll find a job that isn't the one he's poured his life into, and he'll do it because he adores you. But, honey, that's not what you want. Iknowit. I know it and I need you to know it too."
I dropped down on the floor beside her. "Okay—yeah—so what? I stay here and have a baby and live in my father's house? And we start a baby buggy power walking club for moms where we compare Kegel routines and bitch about our husbands leaving their dishes in the sink or pissing on the toilet seat?"
Laughing, Annette said, "You just married us off and got me pregnant in one little daydream. And opened us up to new friends. That's how deep you're in this, honey. That's how far you've thought this one out. We're talking toother people."
"But that's where this is going, isn't it? We'll be pregnant and our kids will be best friends and our husbands will learn to tolerate each other and we'll plan our group vacations to Disney World."
"You're absolutely right, my dear." She grabbed hold of my hands. "I'll wear something Snow White-inspired and I'll work on getting you into something Sleeping Beauty-ish. Jackson will scope out the wait time for each ride and formulate a plan around snacks and naps. JJ will wear the diaper backpack and insist on pushing the stroller too. That's his way, even though you won't let your youngest out of the Baby Bjorn."
"I won't let my youngest out of the fucking what?"
"The Bjorn. You know, it's the mommy-and-me equivalent of a wrap dress." Annette motioned as if I should know what she meant. I shook my head. "The fabric thing you use to wear the baby."
"That sounds like a terrible idea," I said. "While this Ghost of Uteruses Future moment is really fun and all, I am still processing the notion of—of any of this. I can't live here and get married and have a baby and dress up like Sleeping Beauty."
Still laughing, Annette asked, "Has JJ even asked you to marry him?"
