Sunrise on Cedar Key (16 page)

Read Sunrise on Cedar Key Online

Authors: Terri Dulong

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Sunrise on Cedar Key
11.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
22
W
hen the week before Christmas rolled around, I knew we had to start planning a baby shower for Monica. She wasn't due until March, but the doctor had already indicated the triplets would most likely arrive early. I decided to give Dora a call and see if she might have some suggestions.
“Good idea,” she told me. “I've been thinking about it, but I've been so busy trying to do double duty at the yarn shop and with the holidays just around the corner ...”
“Well, I'd be more than happy to begin arranging something. And I know Suellen and my sister will want to help.”
“That would be wonderful. I was scared the time would get away from me and those triplets would arrive before poor Monica had her baby shower. Well, first of all, let's choose a date. I spoke with Monica yesterday. She'd just seen the doctor and it seems she could be delivering in early February, rather than March. The doctor has her on modified bed rest right now, so maybe we should think about having it right after the first of the year. I'd hate to think she could end up on full bed rest and miss her own shower.”
I reached for the calendar on my desk and flipped the page to January. “Well, how about Sunday, the twenty-second? That will give us a good four weeks to prepare, and it will be the weekend before our first knitting retreat.”
“Yes, that sounds perfect. Oh, and by the way, let's have the shower here at my house. I have plenty of room, and we can just fib and let Monica think she's coming over for Sunday dinner.”
I laughed. “Sounds like a plan. Okay, I'll get with Suellen and Chloe and we'll come up with a guest list and ideas for decorating and all that stuff.”
“Let's make it a luncheon, and I'll do some crab salad sandwiches and make the cake.”
“And all of us will pitch in with making other dishes and desserts. Okay then, I'll get back to you with more details after I get together with Suellen and Chloe.”
I hung up the phone and sat staring out the window of my upstairs loft. After a few minutes I booted up the computer and typed the words
single mothers
and
sperm donation
into Google search. I was astonished at how many pages popped up.
I was also astonished at some of the statistics. According to Mikki Morrissette, founder of the Minnesota-based online forum Choice Moms, it is estimated that fifty thousand women a year start families on their own.
Wow,
I thought,
I had no idea!
I went on to read that Jane Mattes, a New York psychotherapist and founder of the support group Single Mothers by Choice in 1981, explained the trend has roots in the 1970s feminist movement, which opened doors to better, higher paying jobs for women and the means to support a family.
Having never before pursued this line of research, I was amazed at how much information was out there in cyberspace available to women like me—contemplating having a child with sperm donation. When I went to the Single Mothers by Choice website I found a multitude of information available. Members of the group were scattered across the country. According to their site, the average age of members was thirty-five and nearly all had completed college or beyond. The site stated that almost half of the members are “thinkers”—women who have not yet decided whether they want to become single mothers.
Well, I certainly fit into that category.
I read over their philosophy and strongly agreed with number six, where it stated the word
choice
had two implications. That a woman had made a serious and thoughtful decision to take on the responsibility of raising a child alone and the woman had chosen not to be in a relationship rather than be in one that does not seem satisfactory.
You would think that would go without saying, but I knew of so many women who married for all the wrong reasons. Although I still wasn't sure at all that I wanted a child enough to resort to sperm donation, I
did
know one thing for sure. I was very comfortable with the fact that I was thirty-six, single, and childless. My relationship with Beau had proved to me that sometimes it's better to be alone than involved in a stagnant or toxic relationship.
“Well,” I said, as I logged off the computer. “You've certainly given yourself a lot to think about.”
I walked out of the carriage house and found Aunt Maude sitting on her deck knitting. Attached to her needles was a gorgeous pink and white baby blanket. The eyelet lace pattern gave it the quality of an heirloom piece.
“Oh, that's beautiful,” I told her, pulling up a chair. “For Monica's baby?”
“Yes. I've completed a blue one and have another blue one to go. Imagine needing three of everything for an impending birth.”
I laughed. “I know. Monica may have doubted her mothering ability for a while, but she sure made up for it when she got pregnant. I have two sweaters finished and I'm working on the pink one now. Oh, I spoke with Dora a little while ago and we've made plans for Monica's shower.” I proceeded to fill my aunt in on all the details.
“That's great. I know she'll enjoy that.”
“I did some research a little while ago. About sperm donation.”
Aunt Maude looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Did you now?” was all she said.
“Yeah, I wanted to learn more about it. According to some of the research, ten to twelve thousand single women a year visit a sperm bank. The nation's largest one is California Cryobank in Los Angeles. Frankly, I was surprised that so many single women have chosen to go this route.”
“And is this the route you might choose to go?” she asked, continuing to work away on her yarn overs and knit two togethers.
“Oh ... I honestly don't know. I think at this point I was more curious than anything. But, I can't help but think what Suellen said. What if I decide to do this and then ... something serious develops between Lucas and me?”
“Very good point.”
“Right. Which means I certainly don't see myself rushing off to a sperm bank any time soon. I'd have to give this a lot more thought and consider all possibilities. But I can't help but feel that for a woman who's done all the research, considered the positives and negatives, is at a place in her life where she's responsible and financially stable, but Mr. Right hasn't come along—she has the
choice
to bring a child into the world and raise that child with love. Even though she's single.”
“I very much agree with you,” my aunt said. “Choice is a very valuable asset—an asset that every human being should be entitled to experience.”
“I always feel good after talking with you,” I said, standing up and placing a kiss on my aunt's forehead. “Guess I should get upstairs and feed Annie. Then I plan to have a relaxing evening knitting and watching television.”
After I got Annie fed, I heated up leftover tuna casserole, poured myself some sweet tea, and was about to sit down to eat when the phone rang.
“Could I interest you in a nice grilled eye of the round?” I heard Lucas ask.
I laughed. “If you had caught me fifteen minutes earlier, yes. I was just about to sit down and eat.”
“Oh, that's too bad. I was late closing the shop today, so I just got home. Our local author, Shelby Sullivan, had stopped by to sign some stock and we got carried away talking.”
“She has another release coming out after the holidays, doesn't she?” Shelby Sullivan was Cedar Key's
New York Times
best seller and lived out by the airport. She wrote romance novels and had fans across the country.
“Yes, and before I forget, she said we must make a point of driving by her house to see the elaborate Christmas decorations.”
“Oh, she's right! This is your first Christmas on the island, so you've never seen it. Her home is the one out on the point by the airport. She's right about the display being elaborate. She does it every year—it's like her Christmas gift to the island.”
“Well, then, why don't I plan to cook dinner for you tomorrow evening and afterward we'll take a drive over there.”
“Lucas, you're really going to spoil me with all your wonderful home cooking.”
He laughed across the line. “Precisely. That's what I'm hoping. Come over tomorrow about five-thirty and let me spoil you.”
“I'll be there,” I said, hanging up.
Glancing at the plate of tuna casserole waiting for me, I realized how pathetic my cooking skills were.
After cleaning up the kitchen, I let Annie out in the yard while I went to find my knitting bag. It was on the desk in my bedroom. I picked up the tote and began to walk out of my room when I realized something was amiss. Where were the two finished baby sweaters? I knew I had placed them in a plastic zippered bag and yet ... they were gone. I opened up the desk drawer and my bureau drawers, and looked around the room. No baby sweaters.
“Oh, this is insane,” I said, standing in the middle of my bedroom as confusion washed over me. “I
know
I left those sweaters on the desk.” But they were nowhere to be found.
I took the tote and walked slowly into the great room. This just couldn't be possible. Could it? I recalled a similar incident happening to Monica. Items in her house kept getting misplaced. Despite her lack of belief, she had questioned me about the possibility of the spirit of her grandmother, Sybile, hovering about. When she explained the incident, I had a strong feeling that her deceased grandmother could indeed be the culprit.
So why was I now doubting the possibility that I had a spirit lurking around my apartment? Why was I not willing to consider that somebody could be paying a visit to share a message with
me?
Maybe I didn't want to
hear
what she had to say?
Great, just great,
I thought.
Bad enough I might have a ghost invading my space, but my ghost could also very well be a thief.
23
T
he last time I had experienced a wonderful Christmas had been the year before my parents died, but this one was even better.
The week leading up to Christmas had been busy with parties given by the Historical Society, the Garden Club, and an open house at the bookshop and coffee café that Lucas had hosted. Christmas Eve had been spent with Lucas as we drove around the island delivering gifts to Monica and her family, Dora, Sydney, and Noah. Christmas Day was filled with good food, a gift exchange, and lots of laughter with my aunt, Chloe, Lucas, Suellen, Rachel, and Max. Being surrounded by people I loved was a true gift. What made all of it even more meaningful was having a little boy in our company. Christmas truly is about children, and Max was a delightful addition.
I picked up the gorgeous white gold bracelet from my bureau and fastened it around my wrist. Cultured pearls were spaced along the strand, and I smiled as I ran my finger over them. Lucas's Christmas gift to me. I loved it and admired his exquisite taste in jewelry.
It was New Year's Eve and we'd be welcoming in a brand-new year together. Chloe and Suellen had opted to attend the dinner and party at the Island Hotel, and Aunt Maude was going to have a quiet evening with Lafitte while she watched television.
Lucas was due to arrive in ten minutes. I took one last peek in my mirror and smiled in approval. I had finally gotten to Gainesville the week before and done some serious shopping. For tonight, I'd chosen to wear a three-piece, dark green velour outfit—slacks, tank top, and jacket. The gold sandals were perfect to complete the semi-dressy look I was aiming for.
I walked into the great room and looked around. All seemed to be in order. My small tree on the table glittered with lights. Pillar candles flickered on the fireplace and tables. Pine incense filled the air, and Perry Como crooned a Christmas carol on the CD player. Lucas had purchased French champagne the day we went to Gainesville, and a bottle was now cooling in the ice bucket.
Annie was curled up at the end of the sofa happily chewing away on a new bone Santa had brought her. With a red bow around her neck, she looked like she belonged on a Hallmark Christmas card.
I heard a knock on the back door and opened it to find Lucas looking exceptionally handsome wearing a navy blue blazer, open-collared shirt, and dress slacks. He leaned in to kiss me.
“You look like Little Red Riding Hood with that basket,” I joked with him.
“My supplies for the feast I'm about to prepare for us,” he said, placing the basket on the counter. He removed his blazer, hanging it on the back of the chair.
He then pulled me into his arms for a kiss that was more passionate than the one he greeted me with.
“How nice,” I murmured against his ear.
He smiled that wonderful smile as he stood back and allowed his eyes to slowly scan down my body. “You look stunning. The color of that outfit is perfect with your hair.”
Exactly the reaction I'd been hoping for. “Thank you.”
“And I see you're a very good chef's assistant,” he said, pointing to the champagne bottle.
“Oh, yes. I don't want to lose that position, so I started chilling the champagne a couple of hours ago as you instructed.”
“Very good,” Lucas said, putting an arm around my waist. “And now we can enjoy the results.”
He removed the bottle and blotted the bottom with a towel. With the expertise of the finest sommelier in France, he uncorked the bottle without spilling a drop. After pouring the gold, bubbly liquid into two flutes, he passed one to me. Picking his up, he touched it to mine.
“Here's to us. I am so very happy these past few months to have you in my life, Grace. You mean a lot to me. Happy New Year.”
The bubbles in the flute seemed to match what I was feeling—effervescent. I felt exhilarated and alive. “Here's to us,” I repeated. “And I am very glad you walked into my coffee shop last spring. Happy New Year.”
We exchanged another kiss and then I perched on the stool as Lucas took over my kitchen. Wonderful aromas filled the room as he prepared shrimp scampi for us. A few minutes later, I removed the rice pilaf and salad from the basket that he'd prepared at his house. I placed the bowls on the table, which I'd covered with a white tablecloth. Lighting the candles I'd placed there earlier, I watched Lucas create his magic and smiled.
After walking over to the stove, I placed an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “It smells heavenly,” I said, inhaling the aroma of garlic.
When it was ready we sat down to enjoy our first meal to welcome in a new year together.
“Bon appétit,”
he said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand.
“Bon appétit.”
I smiled and returned his squeeze. Taking a bite of the scampi, I moaned. “This is superb,” I said, while trying to curtail further moaning. But I did have to admit that Lucas's cooking bordered on orgasmic.
Following dinner, Lucas and I cleaned up the kitchen together. Then I prepared coffee in the French press, which we took into the great room along with the champagne.
Lucas settled himself on the sofa. I slipped off my sandals and curled up beside him.
“That was nice,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Ah, but it was my pleasure. I like spending my time with you.”
He leaned down to brush his lips with mine.
“I will have to make a trip back to France next year,” he said. “There's business there that I still have to attend to.”
My heart fell as a surge of emptiness went through me. I didn't like thinking about him way over there—and me over here.
“You have a passport, yes?” he questioned.
I sat up straighter to look at him and nodded.
“Good. Then perhaps you will accompany me when I go?”
“Really?” I could feel the emptiness ebbing away.
“Yes, really,” he said, laughing. “I think it would be nice for the two of us. I no longer own my place over there, but my cousin, Jean-Paul, he has an apartment in Paris, in Montparnasse, that he lets me use when I'm there. You would like to go?”
Without a second's hesitation, I said, “Yes. Oh, absolutely! I'd love to.”
“Then it is definite. I'm not sure when. Perhaps in October. That's a lovely time to be in Paris.”
“I remember. I loved going there in the fall with my aunt.” Lucas may have been reluctant when I'd first met him about us dating and being together, but all of a sudden it seemed like he was attempting to forge some kind of commitment between us. And I liked it.
“I will enjoy showing you Paris through my eyes,” he said. “And in return, seeing it through yours.”
I could only imagine how much fun that would be. Standing on Pont Neuf, overlooking the Seine—kissing. Walking the streets of the most romantic city in the world, holding hands with somebody you truly cared about. Sipping wine at a sidewalk café, talking for hours, watching the world go by. How many times had I dreamed of all this?
“Oh, Lucas,” I said, excitedly. “I can hardly wait. Do you ever miss not living there anymore?”
A solemn expression crossed his face. “Sometimes, yes. But that was another lifetime. Besides, had I not left there, I never would have met you.”
I never would have met you
. His words warmed my heart. I reached up to stroke his face. “And I'm
so
glad you did.”
“Then I would like to ask you something.” He paused for a moment. “Do you have interest in seeing anybody else?”
His question caught me by surprise. “Do you mean like date another man?”
He nodded.
“No. I haven't given that any thought whatsoever. I like being with you. I think we have fun together and I enjoy your company.”
A huge smile covered Lucas's face as he reached for my hand. “Good. Because I feel the same way.” He shifted on the sofa to face me directly. “I was wondering ... you had told me about this other man ...”
“Beau?”
“Yes. Did you ever consider marrying him? What I mean to say is ... had he not been married, do you think you would have considered this?”
Nobody had ever asked me this question. Not only that, I realized in that moment that I truly had never really given this any thought myself. “I'm not sure,” I said, while still thinking about his question. “I mean ... it's hard to say, since it was impossible for that to happen.”
Lucas nodded. “I understand. Perhaps what I meant to ask was ... you had mentioned that you were satisfied with the relationship with Beau, because you wanted to keep the single, independent lifestyle. You said that relationship with him worked well for both of you.”
“Yes,” I said, unsure where he was headed.
“Do you think you will always feel this way? Wanting to stay a single woman? Do you ever have a desire to someday be married?”
Our conversation had certainly morphed into extremely serious territory, and he was touching on subjects I'd never discussed with another man before. I wasn't sure how to answer, because quite simply, I wasn't sure I
had
an answer.
I ran a hand through my curls and let out a deep sigh. “Well ... if you're asking if I'm against marriage, the answer is no. Of course not. However, with the divorce rate at fifty percent, I feel one has to be cautious. I certainly have never believed that a woman must be married in order to complete herself as a woman.”
Like my sister,
I thought. “But yes, if a couple meet and feel they are right for each other, then yes, it could ultimately lead to marriage.”
Lucas remained silent for a moment and then asked, “And you don't feel that marriage would result in a loss of freedom?”
“Well, no. But I also don't feel that two people should have to give up their own identity when they become married. Hopefully, the traits that one admires and respects in a person when they are dating will continue after they marry.” I recalled what Suellen had said about compromise. “Perhaps it's a matter of learning to compromise? When somebody is alone ... they never have to compromise,” I said, slowly beginning to understand what Suellen had been saying to me. “With a partner, I think compromise is inevitable.”
Another smile crossed Lucas's face and I foolishly felt like I had passed some sort of test. “Compromise is the magic word, but it's not always an easy thing to do.”
Did he know this from his own previous marriage? I couldn't help but wonder if a man who seemed to understand the importance of the word was willing to compromise about having children?
“And so ...” he said slowly. “What do you think allows this compromise to even be possible?”
Without hesitating or thinking about it, I said, “Love. I've always felt that
love
is the strongest emotion we have.”
Lucas brought my hand to his lips and nodded as his intense gaze consumed my very soul. He had not uttered the words. No. But I knew, without a doubt, in the depths of my soul that Lucas loved me. And for the first time I allowed what I also felt to be acknowledged in my mind.

Other books

Rontel by Pink, Sam
Amanda Scott by Dangerous Games
Kiss And Blog by ALSON NOËL
This Hero for Hire by Cynthia Thomason
Pink Neon Dreams by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Runaways by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
Unforgettable by P J Gilbers