“Yeah? So what’s your plan?”
“We can figure out what to do about that article. We can reposition you.”
Natalie takes off the poncho and says, “Here. You deserve this more than I do.” Jordan waves her away. Her eyes are bright and clear, and she looks, in fact, a lot like old photos of Theresa. “Maybe,” she says. “But I need it less. You keep it. Listen, Natalie, here’s what got me thinking. When you were talking to Mae the other night—”
“And you were eavesdropping?”
“Yes. You were talking about how hard it is to be in your twenties, that space after college but before you’ve figured your life out? That’s the most authentic version of you I’ve seen in a long time.”
Natalie says, “Hey,” and looks insulted.
“No, but it’s true, though. I think people like you when you’re being honest and vulnerable. I think you can reach way more people that way. So what I think would help you and Austin and maybe even your kids is a rebranding.”
“A rebranding?”
“Yes. I think you should become someone who’s honest about the messy parts of parenting. The ugly parts! People love to see the mess. They want to know what happens when Caspian tries to run away to the milking barn and Scarlett sneaks off with the iPad. They want to know that Cinnamon ate Evangeline’s tooth, not that you handmade her tooth pillow.”
“I didn’t make the tooth pillow,” says Natalie.
“You know what I mean. They want to look under the hood, see the streaks on the window glass. You could be theanti-tradwife. The messy mom.”
Natalie wrinkles her nose. “I don’t want to be the messy mom.”
“The honest mom, then. The mom who tells the truth. I bet a lot of your sponsors would want to keep you, and those that didn’t we could find replacements for.”
“But what do I do about my clothes? I have so many clothes!”
“You can still wear them.”
Natalie brightens. “I can?”
“Well, maybe not all of them. Maybe skip the gingham.”
“I look good in gingham,” says Natalie.
“We can negotiate that,” says Jordan. She pulls open the slider and drip drip drips into the sunroom, where Natalie finds her the biggest, warmest towel in the whole basket. She’s wrapping the towel around Jordan when she hears a familiar voice say, “Helloooo?”
It almost sounds like—
But it can’t be—
“Daddy!” comes Scarlett’s voice, loud and clear from upstairs, and then Evangeline’s voice joins hers, and they come running down the stairs.
Austin is here!
“How is this even possible?” she asks, after the girls have flopped all over Austin; after he has swung Caspian in the air so high Caspian squeals and begs to be put down; after he has opened his arms so wide for Natalie, and then wrapped them around her and whispered, “I’m sorry,” into her hair.
Now the kids are in the kitchen getting a snack with Mae and Kara (how anyone can be hungry after a Friendly Toast breakfast is beyond Natalie) and Austin and Natalie are in the sunroom. The rain is still pouring down. “How are youhere?” She runs her hands up and down his strong forearms. She knows each muscle in these arms so well.
Austin explains that Shane and Travis, the farmhands, are staying at the farm. Shane’s cousin is available too, so they have a third set of hands. Austin will drive back up tomorrow and he’ll be home before dark; they’ll have to do three milking sessions without him, but they’ll be fine. Nobody is about to give birth. Buttercup’s mastitis has responded to Dr. George’s homeopathic treatment. All is well. “And anyway, the most important thing is that you and I talk, really talk, in person.”
“Agreed,” she says. “Austin! I’m so happy you’re here. I was really scared after our last conversation. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t say I love you.”
He looks at her levelly and says, “I was scared too. I still am. Can we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere private?”
She thinks about this. “There’s not a lot of privacy in a house this full,” she says. Then she remembers. “The Beach Club! We can go tothe Beach Club.” The week has gone so fast, she hasn’t had a chance to get there. That’s not really it, though; the staying away has a reason wider and deeper than scheduling. The truth is that nobody wanted to go without Theresa. Certainly nobody—even Mae, Natalie would bet—wanted Calvin to bring Kara there. The place is so full of childhood memories, of ghosts and nostalgia, of Theresa herself.
On a sunny day, they’d walk the mile along the beach, but given the rain, which is coming down even harder now, they drive. Calvin and Kara are more than happy to watch the children, so she and Austin hop into his truck. Natalie doesn’t know what to do with herself. She fiddles with the seat belt, her hair, her bracelet. She fiddles with her anger, and her confusion, and her relief.
