“About time you got up,” the old woman said without lifting her eyes.
Maddie was taken aback. Joe typically picked Grandma up not long after dawn and took her to his place, where she spent the day crafting baskets—all eight of them in two-and-a-half months.
“Well, good morning,” Maddie said. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” was the reply.
“You’re not going to Joe’s? Is he okay, too?”
Grandma set down the pencil and raised her eyes to Maddie. “Everyone’s fine. Even your father. I sent him down-island to do errands so you and I could have a conversation.”
“He’s okay, too? My dad?”
“Like I said, everyone’s fine. The only thing that’s wrong is the tension in this house. I told your father it’s high time the two of you made things right between you, and now I’ve said the same to you. I did, however, also tell him that your bad mood is probably due to your condition.”
Maddie was standing half in the living/dining/kitchen space, the other half still in the hallway. Under the circumstances, her thoughts might have been racing, but they couldn’t race or do much of anything because, like the water in the shower, they’d turned cold.
“Make your tea, then sit,” Grandma added. “We need to talk. Because it’s high time you admitted that you’re pregnant.”
Grandma tapped her fingers on the tabletop, while Maddie felt the blood drain from her face, if blood really did that sort of thing. She took four steps toward Grandma, then sat across from her, knowing she could not deny the allegation.
“Are you happy?” Grandma asked. “It’s Rex’s baby, isn’t it?”
Maddie’s shoulders relaxed. Then she laughed, but held her gaze on the table and not her grandmother. “Yes, Grandma, it’s Rex’s. Believe me, it couldn’t be anyone else’s.”
Grandma didn’t interrupt.
“Am I happy?” Maddie continued. “It’s complicated. I do know I’m embarrassed. But yes, I’m happy about the baby.” She raised her eyes to meet her grandmother’s. It felt good to see the old woman’s dark eyes start to twinkle. “But I’m worried about Rex. He doesn’t know yet … he has so much todeal with now. I tried calling him last night to finally tell him, but he was asleep. As far as I know, the only one who’s figured it out has been Taylor, who told Kevin. And now you know.”
After a quick “Ahem,” Grandma said, “And your father knows.”
Maddie’s jaw squared. Her spine stiffened. “What?”
Grandma sighed. “I explained what I meant by your ‘condition.’ He deserved to know, too, don’t you think?”
Dropping her gaze back to the table, Maddie felt as humiliated as when she’d been thirteen, and her father caught her on the back porch kissing Tommy Jenkins.
“So now my dad’s ashamed of me.”
“Not at all. Though he does want to talk with you about your plans.”
Maddie wrapped her arms around her middle. “Rex should have known before everyone else, Grandma. I was hoping the news might help him find extra strength to get well faster. But I don’t suppose that’s how it works.” She struggled to hold back tears. “Plus, he could get better but want to stay in California. We haven’t known each other very long—or very well. He’s older than I am and”—she paused, wiping tears that leaked out again without permission—“what if he gets better but doesn’t want a baby? Should I go through with it? I’m forty-five, Grandma. Being pregnant alone is a risk …”
Grandma let her ramble.
“And what will Rafe think?” Maddie added. “I don’t want to lose my son’s love. Or his respect.”
Then Grandma held up both palms. “Stop. That’s a lot of whats and what-ifs. Maybe you should listen to the advice of an ancestor. My grandmother, your great-great-grandmother, Spotted Fawn, said when our minds are troubled, our Creator will guide us. I believe that. I also believe maybe it was ourCreator who decided it was time for you and Rex to have a family of your own. Because these things aren’t usually a coincidence.”
“But …”
Grandma held an arthritic finger to her lips. “Hush.” Then she smiled a rare smile. “A more important question now is do you want tea or don’t you? Before your father went down-island, he made a quick trip to Orange Peel; there are fresh croissants with mozzarella, spinach, and roasted tomatoes on the counter.”
Not wanting to ask if Stephen had gone to the bakery before or after Grandma told him the news, Maddie hesitated, until hunger overtook her emotions. She stood up, went into the kitchen, and put the kettle on. Then she took a plate and reached for the bakery bag … to which a large Post-it was attached. Her father’s distinctive cursive read:
I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I called Dan and retracted what I’d said. Also, I’m elated about the baby. Rex is a good guy. He signed the note with his longstanding—D.
Maddie set down the plate and more tears started to well.
