Bethany grimaced. “No,” she lied. “We want this baby. Our family needs this baby.”
Tommy’s cheeks were red, the way Bethany’s always were when she was nervous. He kicked his foot under the table, making a thwack sound.
“You can ask anything you want to ask,” Bethany tried to assure them.
Tommy and Maddie exchanged glances. Bethany sensed their “twin” connection. They were reading each other’s minds—and telling one another how little they liked this.
“I don’t know. I mean, isn’t it dangerous?” Tommy asked finally, his eyes flashing.
“You’re kind of too old to be pregnant?” Maddie added.
Bethany maintained a smile that felt false. “I appreciate your concern for me. But I’m a doctor, remember? I wouldn’t do something that hurts the baby. I wouldn’t put our family at risk.”
Maddie didn’t look like she believed her. She crossed her arms over her chest, her scowl deepening.
“Your lives will hardly change,” Bethany tried.
“What?” Phoebe demanded. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean, we won't ask you to babysit or anything like that,” Bethany said, talking faster than she wanted to. “Raising this baby won’t fall on you. It’s your job to go to school and prepare for college.”
“Don’t you think three kids are enough?” Maddie asked.
Bethany was taken aback. Again, she turned to Rod, praying that he’d know what to say.
“Enough for what, Maddie?” Rod asked gently.
Maddie scoffed. “I mean, what about population control?”
Bethany gestured toward the massive house they’d purchased, the one they shared, the one that had far too many rooms for the five of them. “We have space.”
“But the world doesn’t have space?” Maddie tried.
Tommy looked uncomfortable, but Phoebe nodded along with Maddie, offering support.
“Listen, gang. This is happening,” Bethany said, raising her shoulders. “I know you’re worried. I know you don’t know what to expect. But we’re in this together, as a family. I need you on my side, here.”
Maddie bowed her head. Phoebe dragged her fork over her lasagna, looking contemplative. Tommy took a big bite of grilled fish, chewing in a way that suggested he wouldn’t be able to talk for a while.
For twenty minutes, the family sat in silence and ate. It was the first time that had ever happened in the history of their family. Bethany wondered if any family had managed to be so quiet in the history of all families, in the history of humankind.
That night, Bethany listened as Rod slept soundly beside her. She stared into the darkness over her bed and prayed that her children would wake up in the morning believing that having a new baby sibling was the best possible thing that could happen to them. The looks on their faces haunted her.
And the following morning, bright and early, Maddie and Tommy grabbed breakfast before Bethany had the chance to come downstairs. They sped off to their new jobs at the beach, leaving Bethany alone with her thoughts. Was she going to lose them both?
But it seemed Phoebe was too busy with preparations for Alana Copperfield’s theater camp to think about Bethany’s pregnancy. She was late to breakfast, but only because she was in her bedroom, rehearsing her lines. After a brief yet awful bout of morning sickness, Bethany paused outside Phoebe’s bedroom to listen to her “perform.” She was doing a soliloquy from Shakespeare. It sounded like one about torment and being wronged. Bethany marveled at how talented she was.
She told herself not to miss out on the beautiful details of her teenagers’ lives, even if only because she was overwhelmed withher baby. She reminded herself that every stage of a child’s life was precious—all the way to the end.
8
Helena locked her Chevy and hopped out into the garage of the ferry, the one that would take her to Nantucket Island. She’d been driving for three days, and her legs felt as though they were made of butter. But for the first time since pre-pandemic, for the first time since her parents’ deaths and her diagnosis, she was out of Orangeburg. She’d nearly made it.
On the top deck, Helena gripped the railing and gazed across the turquoise waves, waves that had once known her father, waves that still echoed her father’s stories, long after her father had left this world for good. Helena felt a wave of nostalgia. She was cratered with pain. But as the island grew bigger and bigger on the horizon, as her new—if brief—life drew closer, a smile crept across her face. This was the first time she’d made a decision “just for herself” in ages. Maybe she’d never done it before.
Above her, clouds billowed and darkened the sun. She heard one of the ship workers tell another that the weather had changed. There would be a storm tonight. He said the ferrieswould be canceled later, which meant they’d probably get to go home to their families earlier than they’d thought.
“Maybe we’ll actually get to watch the game,” one of them said.