East Hope (29 page)

Indeed, to Will's surprise, Mary Beth's arrival had gone smoothly. Sitting with her in his living room, feasting on lobsters, was like being on a first date. She had set the table by the window using his cloth dish towels as napkins. An empty wine bottle holding a candle flickered and dripped heavy globules of wax.

They both seemed mindful of wanting the evening to go smoothly. The unhappy period of their marriage had been in Habliston. That was where it had all unraveled. So far neither of them had spoken of that time, as if they'd agreed to skip over a bad chapter in a book.

“Fitting,” she said again. “It's fitting to be back in Maine where it all began. I remember our honeymoon like it was yesterday.” Her wineglass was blurred with smudges from her buttery fingers. “Three more days and it will have been ten years.”

“A lot's happened since then,” he said.

Mary Beth wiped her fingers and lifted her glass. She sipped. “Maybe some of it had to happen. I think we can learn from it.”

“You're sounding like the teacher now.”

“Being apart for so long has been hard.” She turned to the window. The reflection of a half-moon glittered on the bay.

Will couldn't help wondering how it had been hard for her. Had it been hard traveling business-class to Japan, being the rising star of her company team, out for dinner with Drew and her office friends? He thought of his own confused state: missing her, not missing her, thinking he could live without her, that it might be possible to give it all up and stay in East Hope. He shook his head, suddenly uneasy.

She turned back and met his gaze. Her hair was longer now. Shiny and thick, it almost reached her shoulders. She wore the strand of pearls that he had given her for their fifth anniversary. Will had forgotten how lovely she was. He knew now that he had missed her. Yet something in him was telling him to be cautious.

Her expression grew more serious. “If we want to be married we have to be together.” She reached over and took his hand. “You have to come home, Will.”

He nodded, feeling the pressure of her fingers. New York would never be home, and yet he knew she was right.

She withdrew her hand and picked up her glass. “Let's drink to us. Ten years. A new beginning.”

He lifted his glass.

“You agree then?”

“Yes. I want us to be together.”

The rest of the room had darkened around them, drawing them into a pool of light. Everything in the apartment felt different now. Having her with him seemed to have charged the air with feminine energy. The place looked different too. Her handbag sat on the chair by the top of the stairs, and she had tossed her jacket, a coat almost too soft to be made of real leather, on the end of the sofa along with a red-and-black silk scarf that smelled of a new perfume. She'd brought a large pot of yellow mums and placed them on the end of the kitchen counter. Only her overnight bag, on the floor by the bedroom door, but not in the bedroom, indicated the tentative nature of her presence.

He needed to tell Mary Beth about staying on in East Hope and helping out until Columbus Day, and that he had the chance to buy the place. He finally decided he didn't want to let Penny down by closing the bookstore early. Also, with his own investment of time and money, it made more sense to keep Taunton's open until the end of the season. Eventually, he would explain this to Mary Beth. Being with her didn't feel quite real yet. Better to proceed slowly. They would have the whole week. So much could happen.

“You're very quiet,” she said.

“I'm amazed,” he said. “I can't quite believe you're here.”

“Did you miss me, Will?”

“I did,” he said, sensing that the mood was shifting. He couldn't think what to say. So that was it? Where had all the anger gone? What was to come? He was glad for the wine. It numbed his ability to think.

Mary Beth got up from her place and came over to stand behind his chair. She placed her hands on his shoulders and bent down, leaning her cheek against his. “You look good, Will.” He recognized the familiar softness of her skin. “I think we need to start celebrating our anniversary.” She started to massage his shoulders and then, gently, the long tendons of his neck. It had always been her signal, a private prelude to her wanting to make love.

“I don't know, Mary Beth.”

“What don't you know?” she whispered by his ear.

“There's still a lot to talk about.”

“We'll talk later.” Her hands came around and unbuttoned the top of his shirt.

Will closed his eyes. How easy it was now not to think. He took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

The next morning a few fragile rays of sunlight streamed across the foot of the bed just after dawn. Mary Beth drew her arm over Will, bringing one hand up against his heart.

“Are you awake?” he asked.

“Umm,” she said, pressing up against him.

“Mr. Taunton's not well. The family—”

“Later, darling,” she said. Her breathing deepened. They were once again enveloped in the final moments of quiet before the start of the day.

C
aroline sat on the front steps of Taunton's Used Books and waited. Since her return to Maine she had thrown herself into her new cookbook project. She hadn't seen or spoken to anyone since she'd walked with Will down to his little beach the week before. Work kept her mind off her worries, though part of her longed for company. Here, protected from the wind, she felt the sun almost making her hot. Another mild day in a stretch of glorious weather—the first week of September, but almost like summer. She was surprised that Will was not there, as it was almost noon and time to open the shop. His car was in the drive, and another one was parked close beside it. If this was a customer's car, it seemed strange that the building was locked.

She had brought Will a copy of Lila's oldest cookbook. It looked valuable, though she had no intention of selling it. He might be able to tell her something about it, maybe something she could use in her book proposal.

Or was bringing him the book just an excuse? Despite the awkwardness of their conversation on the beach and having to tell him that she was pregnant, it had been pleasant to see him again. Pleasant. She smiled to herself. Who was she fooling? She couldn't deny being drawn to this serious bookseller who had some kind of story to tell. Why had he separated from his wife? There had to be something that brought him to this far corner of the country. Why would a teacher give up his job for this out-of-the-way place? Her mind kept going over the possibilities. She wished she knew more about him. The cookbook project would keep her busy. Still, it would be nice to have him for a friend.

Caroline stretched out her legs and leaned back against the shop door. She was glad he knew the truth. She hadn't forgotten how she had hurt his feelings when she sent him home after their day together in July. It had been on her conscience, and she'd wanted to make amends. He was the only one in East Hope who knew, though there was certainly no reason to keep it a secret. Besides, soon the odd bits of loose clothing she had found in Lila's closet would not be large enough to hide her emerging belly. She planned to tell Vern and Hollis Moody too.

And, of course, Rob. But when? She was ashamed to have lost her courage and not told him the truth when they were together in Washington. They had talked a few times on the phone since then. He had said nothing more about giving up their home, just that classes had started and were okay. When she asked about Melanie, he told her they were having problems.

“What do you mean?” she had asked.

“I don't want to talk about it.” His voice had changed, taking on a cool edge, the stay-out-of-it tone he used when she intruded too much into his world.

Once he knew about the baby, Caroline feared he might retreat, withdrawing more into himself, as he had after Harry's death. Maybe she could get him to come to Maine for a weekend. If he were here it might be easier. At the right moment she would suggest it. East Hope might make him feel better too. With his love of the outdoors, he couldn't help but fall in love with the place.

Caroline decided to wait a few more minutes before resuming her walk around the bay. The sun now fell upon her ear, a lovely sensation. She remembered her grandmother, Ruth, saying that the feeling of sun in your ear had to be one of life's greatest luxuries. Caroline smiled and closed her eyes.

Today was a perfect day for a walk. Dr. Carney, the obstetrician she had seen in Ellsworth, had recommended a good long walk every day, and Caroline had been pleased with this advice, as her body seemed to crave air and movement. Her doctor, an outdoorsy-looking woman close to Caroline's own age, whose office came equipped with all the latest monitors and the newest technology, seemed to offer plenty of solid old-fashioned advice: get plenty of rest, exercise, and eat a healthful diet. She had even recommended an organic-foods market and suggested that Caroline be mindful of everything she ate.

Most important of all, Dr. Carney had assuaged Caroline's fears by saying that she was not too old to have a healthy baby, and furthermore, Grace's condition had been a rare abnormality, extremely unlikely to occur in another child. Caroline's second sonogram had been fine. In any case, Dr. Carney would monitor Caroline's pregnancy closely, and if there were any unusual symptoms she would send her to a specialist in Bangor. Caroline felt in capable hands, and she instinctively liked this woman who seemed inclined not to worry.

Last week, staggering out of her car after more than thirteen hours on the road, she had almost cried with joy to be back inside Lila's house. The simple square rooms, the comfortable old furniture, the paintings on the walls, all looked familiar to her now. The silent house had a calming effect. After putting her suitcase down at the foot of the stairs, she had gone first into the hall to wind the clock, which had stopped during her absence. She picked up the key that lay in the Chinese porcelain dish on the hall table, opened the case, and, after gently moving the hands into place, she gave it the six neat turns that Hollis had taught her. In an instant the warm even ticking, like a pulse, brought life back into the house. Once upstairs, Caroline had stood at her bedroom window and looked out at the bay. The moon illuminated the dark expanse of water.

Now, on the steps of Taunton's, Caroline became aware of voices coming from the side of the building. She must have fallen asleep. She stood up, quickly wiping the corner of her mouth as Will and a young woman came around the corner. Caroline blinked into the sun.

“Hi,” Will said.

Caroline wasn't sure if his face registered annoyance or surprise, but he quickly introduced the woman beside him. His words were hurried, and Caroline caught only a few. But most definitely he had said, “my wife.”

Caroline shook the hand offered to her, cool and smooth, and tried not to stare at Will's wife. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, and she wore a rich red lipstick that matched the color of the turtleneck sweater that brushed against her chin. Her leather jacket was buttoned against the wind, and she quickly put her hands back into her pockets and stepped closer to Will.

Caroline handed Will the book. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me something about this. I'm not sure the publishing house still exists. I'm working on my book proposal.” She felt ridiculous next to this fashionable woman and remembered she hadn't put on any makeup that morning.

“I'll see what I can find out.” He fumbled for his keys. “Would you like to come in?” The dark-haired woman, Mary something, looked displeased at his invitation.

“No. I'm afraid I don't have time.” Caroline turned up the collar of her jacket. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I'll come back another day,” she said, and started down the drive. “Nice to meet you,” she called back, but the woman, Will's wife, had already stepped inside.