Ex’s and Oh’s Read online

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think we should take her to the emergency room,” Nell said.

  “That isn’t necessary,” Caroline said weakly.

  “She is pregnant,” Elaine continued as if Caroline weren’t there.

  “And over forty,” Nell said. “Sorry, Caroline.”

  “Elaine,” Tori called, taking charge. “Go unlock your van. Nell, help me get Caroline to her feet. Oomph. Geez, Caroline, for a size six, you weigh a ton. Where’s a man when you need one?”

  Caroline accepted the help getting situated in the back seat of Elaine’s van, with the cool washcloth Nell placed on her forehead and the pillow Tori tucked behind her head. Since she knew it was futile to argue, she let all of them fuss over her and ask how she was feeling every fifteen-and-a-half seconds. At some time during the short drive to the hospital, she realized something she hadn’t known about friendship. Sometimes, the doting was more for the doters’ benefit than the dotee.

  It didn’t take long to reach County General. Elaine parked beneath the portico and Nell ran for a wheelchair. Together, she and Tori pushed Caroline in.

  The emergency room was noisy. Phones rang, a toddler cried, and those waiting complained about how long it was taking. The nurse who took Caroline’s vitals insisted a bee sting, two sprained ankles, several serious sunburns, an ear infection, a possible food poisoning, a finger pierced by a fish hook and two men complaining of chest pains were par for the course on any holiday weekend. Being pregnant had moved Caroline to near the top of the waiting list. A thermometer had been stuck in her mouth. As a precautionary measure, the midwife had been called.

  The curtain was drawn around Caroline’s bed, for all the good it did. Nell, Elaine and Tori crowded around as the midwife listened to Caroline’s heartbeat.

  “She said she’s been light-headed all day.”

  “Yesterday, too.”

  “She went out walking in this heat.”

  “Do you think it’s heatstroke?”

  Along with some very impressive credentials as a nurse-practitioner and midwife, Alice Cavanaugh possessed the rare and uncanny ability to move her eyebrows independently of each other. She demonstrated while casting a pointed look at the other three women.

  Taking the hint, Elaine, Nell and Tori shut up.

  Once again, Alice turned her attention to the patient. “Have you fainted before?”

  “No.” Caroline’s voice sounded small. “Is my baby all right?”

  The midwife placed her stethoscope on Caroline’s belly. “Your baby has a strong heartbeat. And you’re not spotting. Those are good signs.”

  Thank God for good signs. Caroline started to relax.

  “Tell me what happened,” the midwife said.

  “I felt light-headed earlier, but I assumed it was the heat.”

  “It’s possible it was.”

  “After my friends and I had facials and massages tonight, I felt much better. In fact, I thought the bout had passed completely, when I felt something.”

  “Something,” Alice repeated.

  Caroline nodded. “Wait. There it is again.”

  “What is it?” Nell asked. “See? I was afraid something was wrong.”

  “I felt this just before I fainted. In my excitement, I moved a little too fast.”

  “Are you in pain?” Tori asked.

  “Where does it hurt?” Elaine quipped.

  “Shouldn’t she be lying flat?” Nell insisted.

  When the midwife was able to get a word in edgewise, she said, “What did you feel, Caroline?”

  “Like something nudged me. From the inside.”

  “That’s what you felt?” Nell asked.

  “That’s why you fainted?” Elaine said.

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Tori complained.

  Again, the other three women all talked at once.

  “We rushed you to the emergency room because your baby moved?” Elaine grumbled.

  Caroline didn’t have the heart to remind everyone that coming to the hospital hadn’t been her idea. She was too busy feeling awestruck by the knowledge that she’d felt her baby.

  She’d felt life, her child’s life.

  “Everybody except Caroline, out,” Alice Cavanaugh ordered.

  “We can’t leave.”

  “Out.”

  “We’re her support group.”

  “Out!”

  “We’re going. We’re going. There’s no need to yell.” Tori threaded her arm through Nell’s.

  Elaine was sensible enough to follow on her own.

  When the curtain stopped fluttering again, the midwife said, “Just to be on the safe side, I want to run a few tests, do a complete blood workup, and schedule an ultrasound. You didn’t faint because the baby moved. You and the baby are probably fine, but I want to ensure you stay that way. The bad news is, your friends probably won’t let you live this down.”

  Caroline nodded. She’d fainted, but she was feeling better now. She wasn’t worried about Tori, Nell and Elaine. “They mean well,” she said. “Besides, I can handle my friends.”

  It felt good to say it. It felt even better to have friends who cared.

  “Now,” she said, looking the midwife in the eye, “tell me about these tests you want to order. What are you looking for?” She placed her hand over her abdomen. “What do I need to watch for? You’re sure my baby’s heartbeat is strong?”

  Alice Cavanaugh outlined the tests she was ordering, their purpose, and the reasons she was taking these precautions. Before releasing Caroline to her friends, she placed the stethoscope to Caroline’s belly again, letting Caroline listen to the strong, steady, and amazingly loud heartbeat of her child.

  Caroline told Tori, Nell and Elaine all about it during the drive back to her summerhouse. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling. As she let herself into her house, her baby was no longer some abstract notion. Her child had a heartbeat. He or she was real. And Caroline didn’t think she would ever be the same again.

  Oh, she hoped not.

  Tori wandered through her house in Charlevoix. The air-conditioning was on but even with the windows closed, she heard the occasional pop-pop-pop of fireworks over Lake Charlevoix. The big fireworks extravaganza over Lake Michigan wouldn’t take place until tomorrow night.

  It was the Fourth of July weekend, the biggest party weekend of the summer. And she was wandering through her house. At eleven o’clock. Alone.

  She was trying not to feel sorry for herself. She and the girls had planned to go to a club after their massages and facials. Caroline had agreed to be their designated driver. Tori couldn’t blame Caroline for bowing out following her scare earlier. Elaine and Nell hadn’t wanted to go out after that, either.

  It would have been good for both of them to go, but after leaving the hospital and dropping Caroline at her summerhouse, all they’d wanted to do was reminisce about their pregnancies and simpler times.

  No matter how far women had come, there were two things in life that never ceased to turn the majority of them to mush: pregnancies and newborn babies. Maybe there were three, but damn, Tori hated to admit that men were on the list.

  Nell had invited Tori to spend the evening with her and Elaine, but there was only so much reminiscing about childbirth Tori could take. She remembered her pregnancy. She’d only gained nineteen pounds, and wore her regular jeans home from the hospital. Not her skinny jeans, but jeans nonetheless. She’d started exercising four weeks later. She’d put Andy in his little snuggly seat and sat him in front of her while she worked out. He’d hardly squawked, watching her movements, mesmerized.

  She’d been just as mesmerized with him.

  Surely no woman had ever delivered a more beautiful child. At twenty-two, she’d practically been a baby herself. When she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d been terrified her life was over, that a baby would change everything. It hadn’t been that way at all. She’d loved Andy from the moment she saw him. The intensit
y of her emotions had surprised her, and she remembered thinking that everything might just work out after all, which was extremely optimistic, especially for her, for she’d always bored easily.

  She’d never tired of watching Andy grow. To this day, she loved him more than she loved another soul on earth.

  Tori sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised she’d wound up on this side of the living room. It was where she kept the albums and photographs. She picked up the one family photo she’d kept out after the divorce.

  Her hair had been shorter then. And look at that nose! She shuddered. But then she looked at the family she, Shane and Andy had been. They’d been beautiful, her old nose not withstanding: an above-average attractive couple and their adorable seven-year-old son.

  Andy had been adorable. She’d bought his chinos and that little shirt with the anchors on it in Traverse City. No amount of hair gel had tamed that little cowlick. She could practically hear his high-pitched, little-boy laughter. She couldn’t believe how much she missed it.

  He was looking at his father in the picture. He’d adored Shane. He still did. Back then, they’d both adored her, too. In the end, it had been the man she’d grown bored with, the man she’d blamed for her unhappiness. And now he was seeing someone else.

  “A chunky redhead,” Andy had said.

  That wasn’t the reason for this niggling fear, this quiet panic. She wanted to believe she was better than that. She was worried about Andy. She was so weary of worrying. He was wounded so deeply she couldn’t reach him anymore. What if he never recovered?

  Guilt and worry churned inside her. She felt wretched. The need was back, stronger. Times like these, she wished she was in a relationship. A little slow dancing, a man’s strong arms, and later…

  Ah, yes, later was what she needed most of all.

  She knew how she looked these days. Perhaps she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she was close. Men always noticed her when she entered a room. And it wasn’t just the streaks in her hair, her perfect nose and sexy shoes. Nell insisted Tori emitted pheromones.

  Too bad Nell and Elaine hadn’t wanted to go to the club. Tori needed a diversion tonight. She was only thirty-seven years old, and everyone knew women peaked in their thirties. There was nothing wrong with wanting a diversion. What better diversion was there than a man who couldn’t take his eyes off her, who only saw what was on the outside?

  A man who couldn’t see the real her.

  Her wandering took her to the hallway. She’d bought this house shortly after the divorce. She was proud that she’d been able to afford it on her own. It wasn’t large, but it was beautifully decorated. And it was hers.

  Her bedroom was on the right, Andy’s on the left. His door was closed partway. The light was off. It was Saturday night, a holiday weekend, and her son had gone to bed at nine-thirty.

  Pushing the door open a little farther, she called his name softly. Listening, she tiptoed to his bed. His breathing was deep and even. Moonlight spilled across his pillow, allowing her to make out the shape of his face and the bony shoulder not covered by the sheet. His face and arms were tan, but the rest of him was so pale. He never took his shirt off, never tried to impress the girls or the guys. He never seemed to have any fun.

  Emotion welled in her chest, in her throat, behind her eyes. He looked painfully serious, even in sleep.

  He never laughed anymore. He hardly talked to her. He spent time with his father nearly every day now. It was as if she was the enemy. She knew he blamed her for the divorce. He was depressed, lost, sad.

  But he was no dummy.

  He never went out with friends anymore. His father thought they needed to give him more time. He needed a goddamned shrink. That was what he needed.

  Her son was more like her than she wanted him to be.

  She left his room, leaving his door the way she’d found it. Now what? The thought of whiling away a festive holiday weekend night alone was almost more than she could bear. She wanted life, noise, excitement, fun. If only Nell and Elaine hadn’t bailed on her.

  So what if they had? a voice in the back of her mind whispered.

  Sure, it would have been nice to go to the club with friends. But she was a big girl. More importantly, she was a grown woman, a grown woman with needs, and tonight those needs wouldn’t be tamped down.

  She scribbled a note for Andy—not that he ever woke up once he was asleep. She left it on the refrigerator, just in case, then dashed into her bedroom for her lipstick and i.d.

  CHAPTER 11

  Caroline took a Thermos and two teacups from her large woven bag. “Tea, Karl?”

  Every day for two weeks Karl had answered in the same manner. Today, he said nothing. He was listless this morning. He’d tired sooner than usual, and had ridden in his wheelchair most of the way to the courtyard.

  “Would you care for a cup of tea?” Caroline repeated gently.

  He coughed. When he was able to speak, he said, “If it’s Earl Grey.”

  “Did the fireworks keep you awake last night?” she asked, pouring the steaming brew.

  “Fireworks?”

  He coughed again, and she could see how much it cost him. Handing him his tea, she wondered if it was going to be one of those rare visits in which she did most of the talking.

  “You were right about reciprocity between the Illinois and Michigan State Bar Associations, Karl. I’ve started the process, provided them with the proper affidavit and forms and submitted my work history. You’ll never guess where I’d like to set up my new practice.”

  Karl sipped his tea quietly.

  Continuing as if he were participating in the conversation, she said, “There’s an office space available on Main Street right here in Harbor Woods. It’s where you practiced law, isn’t it?”

  “Henry and I planned to start a practice there together.”

  Caroline held her breath. “Henry?” she whispered.

  “My buddy and I. Went to school together. His family was better off than mine. It didn’t bother Henry or me.”

  He paused, and Caroline feared that was all he would say. It was a relief when he continued.

  “People always thought I was the bigger hellion. Wasn’t true. He just never got caught.” Karl coughed into an old-fashioned handkerchief. Folding it carefully and returning it to his pocket, he said, “One time we climbed to the top of the water tower after dark and wrote something scandalous about the teacher. Henry did half the writing, but I’m the one who got caught with green paint on my hands. Took a whipping from the teacher for it, and then another one from my father when he found out.”

  “Did Henry get spanked, too?”

  “No.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Nobody knew.”

  “You didn’t tell anybody you had an accomplice?” she asked.

  “He would have done the same for me.”

  Caroline wondered if Karl would say that if his memories hadn’t stopped there, if he’d gone on to recall the last letter he’d received from Anna, and what must have felt like the ultimate betrayal.

  Karl finished the rest of his tea in silence. Taking his empty cup and saucer from him, she turned slightly, her head bowed as she placed the dishes in her bag near Karl’s chair. Something brushed her hair. At first she thought it was the warm breeze, so soft, so tentative was the touch. Being careful to move slowly, she looked up from her position on the quilt, into Karl’s faded blue eyes.

  His hand stilled in midair. He looked startled, as if he was expecting her to be someone else.

  “Whatever happened to Henry?” she asked quietly.

  He made no reply.

  Caroline thought about the diary she and Shane were going to look for later this evening. Had Karl discovered Anna’s hiding place in the lighthouse? Had he read it, then put it away someplace safe?

  Had Karl and Henry ever spoken again? Had Karl tried to find Anna when he returned home after the war? Or had it all been over, in the p
ast but not forgotten? There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, a hundred memories she wanted to share with him about her life with the man who had raised her. But she didn’t want to upset him, nor was it her place to defend Henry O’Shaughnessy, not to Karl, not after all this time, so she simply returned Karl’s gentle smile and told herself to be happy with the one thing she’d been granted.

  Time.

  There was something sad about a house that had sustained someone’s existence for a very long time but now sat empty.

  It was Tuesday evening, and Caroline and Shane had already made a quick pass through Karl’s house at 408 Prospect Street. Like the man who’d lived there, his home was unpretentious, uncluttered and unimposing. Cape Cod in style, it had two bedrooms downstairs and one up. Inexpensive framed prints of lighthouses and ships hung in every room. There were only a few personal photographs. One was a black-and-white picture of a man and woman. Caroline assumed they were Karl’s parents, her great-grandparents. She stared at the photo for a long time. Next to it was a photograph of a boy and a girl. She recognized Karl from his stance and mischievous grin. The little girl must have been his sister, Dolores. The only other frame on the low shelf contained a color snapshot of Shane and Karl. In their hands they each held a massive fish.

  “I can’t imagine sitting in a boat all day trying to catch one of these.”

  “You’ve never been fishing?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “You haven’t lived.”

  With a small smile, she said, “Of course, I’ve never dived off a cliff, either. Suffice to say I’ve never been what you would call a risk taker. Discovering I was pregnant has been a huge step for me.”

  “You never mention the father.”

  The scrape of a drawer being opened put her in mind of fingernails on a chalkboard. Or perhaps that was the scrape of her conscience. “He’s a brilliant litigation consultant, and the last I knew, he was thrilled to be reconciling with his ex-wife and two young sons. I think he would have viewed my little bombshell as a complication none of them needed.”

  “You think?”

  Caroline grappled with what was morally and ethically right. More than anything, she needed to do what was best for her baby. She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she?