East Hope (45 page)

Before going upstairs on Christmas night, Caroline went into the hall. Even over the rattling of the windows and the roar of the wind, she could tell immediately that the clock had stopped. She reached for the key in the Chinese bowl. Harry's letter to Lila was still tucked underneath. She had hoped to show it to Rob.

She opened the face of the clock and inserted the key. Gently she turned it to the right, but after half a turn the key wouldn't move, as if blocked. She withdrew the key and inserted it once again. Nothing. It remained stuck in the same place. The hall remained silent. There was nothing she could do tonight.

When she was halfway up the stairs the phone rang. She tried to hurry. Her huge belly made it impossible to rush. In the bedroom she picked up just before the answering machine kicked in.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Rob.” Weeks of anguish came out in a moan. “Are you okay? You're with Granddad?”

“He said he called you.”

So much to say, but she remained speechless. “Merry Christmas,” she said. “I'm so glad you called.”

“I'm coming to see you. Granddad will get me a ticket.”

“When?” Her heart was beating fast.

“Early February. I'll e-mail you the flight.”

“Sweetie, I'm so glad you decided to come.”

“Pete called me.”

“He did?” What could he have said? Something that worked. “There's so much I need to tell you,” she said. “You'll love it here.” Now she couldn't stop herself. All her hopes and wishes came out in a torrent. “We'll be a family again. We can make plans.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. We'll buy another house in Chevy Chase after I sell this one. It will be like it used to be.”

“That's over.”

“What do you mean?”

“It will never be like it used to be.” His voice was not angry, just incredibly sad.

After he hung up she sat very still at the edge of her bed. How wise he was. How foolish she had been. Nothing would ever be the same.

C
aroline awoke to a quiet house on January tenth. Less than a month to go. She had been up to use the bathroom several times in the night. Her baby was pressing on her bladder, typical in the final weeks of a pregnancy, something else that she had forgotten from her earlier experiences. She rolled onto her back, pulled the covers up over the mound that was her child, and turned her head toward the windows.

So far the day appeared to be sunless. Hollis was right when he'd told her at the beginning of the summer that living in Maine was always about the weather. There had been three snowfalls already, and winter had barely begun. How had the early settlers survived? The tip of her nose was cold. The silent house seemed to be waiting too. Not for much longer. Soon a baby's cries would fill the rooms. Caroline closed her eyes and focused on what it would be like to hold an infant, that helpless sweet warmth curled in her arms once again.

When Rob was born, moments after the delivery the nurse had placed the bundled baby on her chest. In that instant Caroline went from being one kind of person to being another. The intensity of that mother love was like the power of gravity, timeless and intractable. Harry had looked down at them, tears on his face, as if she had performed a miracle.

How different she might feel now if she were carrying Harry's baby, if Harry were still alive, if having another child could have erased the sorrow they'd carried with them for so many years. She swallowed hard. She thought of Rob's call, his voice remote and far away. Still, he would be coming soon. As promised, he had e-mailed his travel plans, his visit coinciding with her due date. She was sure that Richard had something to do with arranging that. The heat clicked on.

“What's the news from the northland?” Vivien's voice boomed across the line.

Caroline turned off the radio. She had been listening for the weather. They were expecting a storm. Vivien had been calling Caroline several times a week lately, attempting to bolster her spirits. Their conversations had been of some comfort. Caroline enjoyed hearing news of her old friends in Washington, and during the holidays she had valued these talks on the phone more than ever.

“The outline's almost done. I'm going to send it off later today.” She glanced at the window. “More snow on the way too.”

“I'm glad to hear you're nearly finished. Mapping it out is tough.”

“I don't know what I would have done to keep busy otherwise. Let's just say it's no longer gardening season.”

“Work's good for all of us.” She laughed. Caroline pictured Vivien in her cluttered kitchen, the two sticks protruding from her topknotted hair, manuscript pages on the table spattered with whatever she was writing about. “How's your social life?”

Caroline had told Vivien about her Christmas with Dottie and Vern. She had also been pleasantly surprised when Hollis called and had taken her out for a New Year's Day brunch. “You need to start dating younger men,” Vivien joked.

“Let's just say I'm living a quiet life these days. Rob will be here soon.”

As if on cue Caroline's belly seized up, tightening. Another one of the preliminary contractions.

“You still there?”

Caroline nodded, unable to speak.

Vivien explained that she'd come up to see her after the baby was born and Rob had gone back to school. “I don't know the first thing about babies, but I'll be on duty in the kitchen. There's nothing you can't manage when you're well fed.”

“I'm nervous, Vivien.”

“About the birth?”

“That. And having Rob here.” Her heart felt yanked in every direction. She should be happy about this baby. But the thought of Rob hanging around the house with his anger, his sullen moods, his silences would certainly put a damper on any joy.

“Caroline, hold on. You're having this baby. This is the life you wanted. Remember? And you want him to be part of it.”

“I know,” she said quietly. But that didn't make it any easier.

After Vivien hung up Caroline stood at the kitchen sink and stared out at the snow-covered garden. It was hard to believe that there was life buried under the cold ground. Vivien was right: She had chosen her life. Working on her book proposal had been a satisfying way to spend her time. If the agent agreed to take on her project, and if an editor agreed to buy her cookbook, maybe she could earn some money. With that and the sale of Aunt Lila's house, it might be possible to go back to Chevy Chase to re-create the life they once had. Though maybe Rob was right when he said their old life was over.

Will returned to East Hope in the third week of January to the blinking light of his answering machine, bright red as if with holiday cheer. Caroline had called him. She had thought of him. Indeed, she had baked cookies for him. He went to the window and could see the lights from her house. His visit with Rusty and his family had been a pleasure, the warm weather an indulgence.

Following his visit to Florida, he had stopped in Pennsylvania to visit Jack and his wife in Habliston. The financial situation at the college had become serious, and Jack had wanted to get Will's take on possible ideas for further trimming the department. Will was flattered that Jack sought his counsel, and touched that his opinion was important to his old boss. He had stayed nearly a week and had enjoyed reconnecting with a few old friends. In the end he was ready to return to Maine, which he thought of as home. The sharp cold that greeted him when he got off the plane felt good, clean and bracing, like an awakening.

He returned Caroline's call immediately. When the line was busy, he decided not to call again, but to go and visit the next morning. As he puttered around getting the apartment in order and thinking about the new year, he realized that the pain from his failed marriage had lessened. Mary Beth's visit to East Hope felt more like a dream; it might never have happened.

After a hurried breakfast, Will made a quick stop in the village before heading toward Caroline's house. His steps were almost soundless in the chill air as he hiked along Old Harbor Road. There had been a huge snowfall in the night. He shivered, then smiled, enjoying the sensation of peace filling him up like a new warmth. The snow was light, making it easy to walk through, though in places the drifts reached almost three feet high. It was still snowing, but less hard.

At the Canberry Store in the village Will bought some supplies for Caroline. After rounding the bay, today a deep sapphire, he followed the road, or what he could make out as the road, up to her house. The plows had not yet reached this side of town.

In the brilliant morning sunlight her house appeared simple, spare, yet welcoming. The hot Florida sunshine seemed a million miles away, another world entirely. Will leaned his head back and opened his mouth, trying to catch a lingering snowflake on his tongue. He had missed the quiet remoteness of this place. He eased his backpack off his shoulder, made his way up the walkway, and knocked at the back door.

“No baby yet, I see.” Will smiled at Caroline.

“How did you get here?” she asked, blinking into the light. “They haven't plowed.” She looked over Will's shoulder at the white world. The baby was due in two more weeks, and that was all she could think about. She was nervous about getting to the hospital on the snowy roads. Her mind seemed to have burrowed into a place that allowed no other thought, as if it were hibernating from the rest of her life. She stared at Will, dazed, then wondered if her happiness at seeing him showed.

“I've never seen so much snow,” he said. “They've plowed in the village. The trucks should be out this way soon.” His eyes crinkled up in the bright sunlight. “I walked over, wanted to be sure you were okay.”