Cypress Point (27 page)

She barely heard the words of the minister, managing by some miracle to get the “I do” in the right place. Her eyes were on her husband as she waited for the moment she could wrap her arms around him, telling him she would never forget this gift he had given her.

They celebrated in the side yard of the inn with a feast and three-tiered wedding cake served under a huge tent which had been miraculously erected in the garden during the ceremony. And afterward, she and Gabriel retired to the honeymoon cottage, located a distance from the inn itself, where the innkeeper had already moved their luggage.

In bed that night, Gabriel held her close.

“Do you mind that I did it this way?” he asked. “I saw all the anguish Carlynn went through in planning her wedding, and I just didn't want any of those crazy family problems to get in the way of your day. But you didn't get to do any of the planning, yourself, and I worried that—”

She kissed him to stop his talking. “This was perfect,” she said. “The fact that you did this for me, for us…I can't think of anything more remarkable you could have done.”

She snuggled against him. She didn't care about planning a wedding, or even about the quaint little honeymoon cottage, or the view from the bluffs, or the dress she had worn. At that moment, she didn't even care about her mother's will, which would no longer contain Lisbeth's name except to acknowledge her as the daughter to whom Delora would leave nothing. All she cared about now was the man lying by her side.

A
t twenty-one weeks, Joelle could not have hidden her pregnancy even if she had wanted to. She sat on the front porch of the condominium that Saturday afternoon waiting for Liam to pick her up to go to the nursing home, and for the first time she was wearing maternity clothes in public. She had on black leggings with a soft, stretchy fabric panel over her belly, a red cotton sleeveless blouse and a white, black-trimmed sweater tossed over her shoulders in case the day grew cooler, which was often the norm in Monterey. Her mother, who, until that morning, had been staying with her while she healed from the appendectomy, had taken her shopping the day before, and Joelle thought they must have hit every thrift shop in Monterey County.

“No need to pay high prices for clothes you'll only be wearing a few months,” her mother had said.

Her father had stayed with them the first week, but he
needed to get back to the coffeehouse he managed, so only her mother had been with her for the last two weeks. It had been a good visit. A wonderful visit, actually. For the first couple of weeks, Joelle had not felt up to leaving the condominium except for her doctor's appointments, and her mother had grocery shopped and cooked for her. They played cards and board games, just the two of them, with Tony and Gary joining them a couple of evenings. She and her mother talked in a way they'd never really had the time to before. Joelle learned that her mother was still madly in love with her father after all these years, despite what she referred to as some “difficulties” during those last few years at the commune, something they had hidden well from Joelle. Her mother told her how afraid she'd been when she found out she was pregnant and the absolute terror she'd felt when she thought her baby had been born dead.

“I remember wanting to scream,” she said, “but I was all screamed out by that point.”

Joelle could not bear to think what that experience had been like for her parents. Her baby, to whom she was already irrevocably attached, no longer felt like a bubble so much as a butterfly, and she could not imagine going through nine months of falling in love with her unborn child only to have something go wrong at the last minute. That thought made her glad she did not have to go back to work right away. She was not at all in the mood to deal with stillbirths, and she knew that when she returned after this sick leave, someone else would have to take those cases. If not for her own sanity, then out of kindness to the bereaved parents, who should not have to receive counseling from a healthy pregnant woman immediately after enduring such a loss.

Her baby was more real to her now. The sonogram she'd had several days ago had shown arms and legs, one visible
eye, an open mouth. Rebecca had asked her if she wanted to know the baby's sex.

“Yes!” Joelle had said.

Her mother had been with her, marveling at the image on the screen, and Rebecca pointed out the barely perceptible labia to both of them.

“Three generations of women, right here in this room!” her mother said, and for some reason, that made Joelle cry. Although she had not intended to do so, her imagination flashed forward to a baby dressed in little-girl clothes, a child with braids in kindergarten, a giggling teenager in a prom dress and a happy young woman at her wedding. And who would be the man walking that little girl down the aisle? She was afraid it would not be Liam.

She longed to tell Liam that the baby was a girl, but he had not even mentioned her pregnancy since their conversation in the recovery room after her appendectomy, and she was angry with him for that. She feared expressing that anger, though. Feared pushing him farther away. How would he react if she told him he would soon have a daughter? She was most afraid that he wouldn't react at all, and if that was to be the case, she didn't want to know it.

He'd called her every few days while she was away from work, but she'd gotten the feeling he was making the calls out of a sense of duty rather than desire, and their conversations had been short and superficial. She had no idea what was going on inside his head, and she didn't dare ask him; it was apparent he did not want either of them to dig too deeply into the other's thoughts and feelings. It had been easy to honor his unspoken wishes while her mother had been with her, when she hadn't felt the need for much contact with anyone else. But now, with her mother gone and two more weeks of recovery ahead of her, she worried that she would have too much time to think.

It was now ten of one, and Liam was late. They were to meet Carlynn at the nursing home at one o'clock. Quinn would drive her there, Carlynn had told Joelle, and he'd run a few errands while she spent an hour with the two of them and Mara. Although Liam wisely had not balked when Joelle told him the plan, she knew he saw this whole outing as pointless, if not preposterous.

She and her mother had met Carlynn for lunch earlier that week at a café in Pacific Grove. Her mother had embraced Carlynn tearfully when she saw her, and the three of them had talked about how different they all looked from that day in Rainbow Cabin, so long ago.

Ellen, of course, had been thrilled to learn that Carlynn was using her healing ability on Mara, and even more pleased to know that Liam had agreed to participate.

“He says he will,” Joelle told the two women at lunch, “though I have the feeling he's doing it out of guilt. Trying to make up to me for what he can't truly give me.”

“It doesn't matter why he's doing it,” Carlynn had said. “Just as long as we can get him there in that room. That's what will help Mara.”

Liam's car turned the corner onto her street, and she stood up and walked down the sidewalk to meet him at the curb, very aware of the way the red blouse gently ballooned over her stomach. He stopped the car and she let herself in.

“Hi,” she said, fastening the seat belt.

“Sorry I'm late.” He glanced in the side-view mirror as he pulled into the street again. He looked so good. Pretty, pale eyes, straight nose and slight point to his chin. She tried not to stare. Her body suddenly felt alive and hungry for him. This was the longest she'd gone without seeing him in years, probably since he'd started working at Silas Memorial, and she could barely
stand the intense and untimely desire that was ambushing her here in his car.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, the word a bland mask for the mixture of anger and desire churning inside her. “It feels good to get out.”

“When are you allowed to drive?”

“Probably next week,” she said. “I feel like I could drive now, but since they say five or six weeks, I'll compromise on four.”

“Good idea,” he said. “They're talking about five or six for the usual patient. Not someone in…your condition.” He actually smiled when he said those words, giving her hope that her pregnancy would not continue to be the great unbroachable subject.

“How did it go with your mom?” he asked.

“It was really good to be with her,” she said, missing her mother a bit already. “She bought me five thousand different types of vitamins and a few aromatherapy candles and gave me foot massages every night.”

“I'm glad it was a good visit.” He glanced at her, then smiled the smile that put that provocative crevice in his cheek. “You are a really cute pregnant woman,” he said.

She laughed. “Thanks,” she said. That was the warmest thing he'd said to her in ages. “And thanks for doing this, Liam,” she said. “I know you don't want to.”

“You're welcome,” he said with a brief nod of his head, acknowledging that she was quite right.

Carlynn met them in the foyer of the nursing home. Liam greeted her with a stiff, but cordial, hello, and Joelle gave her a hug. The older woman felt more frail than ever beneath her arms, as though her bones might crack if she squeezed her too hard. The three of them walked in silence down the corridor to Mara's room.

Mara was sitting up in bed, getting her face wiped by an
aide who had just fed her lunch. She smiled and, when she spotted Liam, let out a little cry of delight. He was first to reach her bed, and he leaned over to kiss her. Mara lifted her right arm up as though trying to hug him, although she could not quite master the maneuver.

“Liam!” Joelle said. “Look at her arm! She's trying to hug you with it.”

Liam stepped back. “She's been doing that for the past few weeks. They've brought the physical therapist back in to help her work with her arm a bit more.”

Joelle remembered the last time she'd seen Mara with Carlynn, when Mara had appeared to massage the older woman's palm with her right hand. Was that the day the use of her arm had improved? She didn't dare suggest that to Liam, at least not right then. She knew he would not think Carlynn's visit had anything to do with an improvement in his wife.

“Hi, Mara.” Joelle stepped forward to give her a hug, noticing how Mara's silky hair brushed against her cheek. “Your hair's getting longer, sweetie,” she said. “I haven't been around to cut it in a while, but it looks really pretty. Maybe we should leave it this way. What do you think, Liam?”

He nodded. “I like it,” he said, then he turned to Carlynn. “So, what do we do now?” he asked, the impatience barely concealed in his voice.

Carlynn leaned on her cane in the center of the small room and looked around her, as though trying to make a decision. “Okay,” she said finally. “Here's what I suggest. Liam, could you see if you could find another chair for in here? Then you and Joelle can sit while I massage Mara's hands again.”

Liam left the room without a word, and Joelle exchanged a look with Carlynn.

“It's all right,” Carlynn said, knowing what she was thinking. “He'll be fine.”

Liam brought back one of the hard, straight-backed chairs from the cafeteria across the hall and set it near the recliner that was next to the bed.

“You take the recliner, Jo,” he said, and she sat down. Then he sat in the smaller chair and looked at Carlynn, waiting for his next instruction.

Carlynn sat on the edge of Mara's bed, poured baby lotion onto her palm and began to massage Mara's hands, as she had the last time she'd visited the nursing home with Joelle.

“Joelle and Liam,” she said without looking at them, “please talk about memories you have of your time with Mara. Any situations you can remember that involved the three of you.”

“What's the point?” Liam asked, and Joelle felt like kicking him.

“I want her to hear you talking about things that involve all three of you, that she would also remember, if she were able. We want to stimulate that memory bank in her brain.”

Liam wearily rubbed the back of his head, his eyes closed, and Joelle doubted he was going to put much effort into this exercise. Obviously, it would be up to her to start. Resting her head against the recliner, she stared at the ceiling and thought back over the years to some of the many memories they shared.

“I remember the party Rusty and I gave where I was hoping to fix Mara and Liam up without their knowing it,” she said. She smiled at Liam, and he looked at her. “I remember the exact moment when it clicked for both of them.”

“When?” He looked curious.

“We were all sitting around my living room, remember? And everyone was playing instruments. And you and Mara had your guitars. And you started playing that song…I don't
remember the title…the Joan Baez song that goes, ‘Show me the something, show me the—”'

“‘There But for Fortune,”' Liam said.

“Right. And you were singing, and suddenly Mara started singing and playing the same song, in perfect harmony with you, and you two were looking at each other across the room, and it was like there was this invisible thread connecting you, and neither of you knew anyone else was there. And I was thinking,
yes!
I just knew once the two of you met it would be like that.”

Pursing his lips, Liam nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “it was a good call on your part. And you were playing a pan and a spoon, right?”

“No, I had the comb and the tissue paper,” she said. “Rusty had the pan and spoon. The instrument of least effort.”

“Rusty was a pill,” Liam said. “It's good you ditched him.”

“He ditched me,” she said, “but never mind.”

They fell silent, and Joelle glanced at Mara. Her gaze was on Carlynn, and it surprised her that she was not looking at Liam, since he was well within her range. She was not smiling, but her face looked relaxed, as though the massage was soothing her.

“I've got one,” Liam said. “Talking about Rusty reminded me of it.”

“Do we
have
to talk about Rusty?” she asked.

“Remember the time we all went to San Diego for a few days?”

She nodded. “Over Christmas.”

“Right, and I don't know where we were, somewhere in San Diego County, I guess, or maybe not, but out in that place you had heard about that had pocket canyons and other strange rock formations and—”

“Oh, no,” she said, starting to laugh as she remembered the hour-long hike that had turned into four rather scary hours.