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Authors: Terri DuLong

BOOK: Secrets on Cedar Key
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44
I
f my sons noticed the bump in Fiona's midsection when we walked in the door, they made no mention of it, but I saw the quizzical expression on my mother's face. I watched as both Jason and John pulled Fiona into a warm embrace, introducing themselves and then leading her to the sofa, where they sat on either side of her.
My mother extended her hand. “I'm Dora, Marin's mother. Welcome to Cedar Key.”
“Thank you,” Fiona said. “And thank you so much for allowing me to stay in your home. That was very kind of you.”
“Would anybody like coffee or tea?” my mother asked.
Jason and John wanted coffee, and I heard Fiona say, “Would you have any herbal tea?”
“I do,” my mother said, heading to the kitchen.
“I'll help,” I said, following her.
“So how did it go?” she asked once we had some privacy. “Is that bump in her tummy what I think it is? Or is she just carrying a little extra weight in one spot?”
“She's pregnant. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw her. She's pregnant . . . with Andrew's grandchild. She's not married, hasn't even told the father, for reasons I'll explain later, but . . . she does seem pretty mature for nineteen, so—I don't know what to say or think.”
My mother nodded as she prepared the coffeemaker. “Well, I can understand your surprise. But she probably figured if she told you beforehand you'd have second thoughts about her coming here.”
“That's pretty much what she said. God, just when I thought we were finished with crises, now not only does Andrew's daughter show up, but she shows up pregnant.” I heard my mother laugh and turned around. “What?”
“Oh, Marin. You should know better than that. Life is filled with one crisis after the other. It's all the good things in between that keep us going. Remember what I always used to tell you—life is great, if you don't weaken. And you won't. You'll get through this.”
“True,” I said, slicing the loaf of banana bread my mother had baked that morning. “And besides, she's only here short term.”
“Hmm,” was all my mother said.
 
By the time Bella returned from downtown later in the afternoon, the boys and Fiona were surrounded with photo albums, each of my sons sharing anecdotes about growing up with Andrew, about what he was like, and I could tell by the look on Fiona's face that she was enthralled, laughing, asking questions, and soaking up every bit of information.
After I introduced Bella, we joined my mother on the patio for a glass of wine and let the kids continue getting to know one another.
“She seems very nice,” Bella said, settling onto one of the lounges.
Since Fiona hadn't stood up, I realized Bella had no way of knowing her condition. “She's pregnant,” I said.
She shot me a surprised look, eyebrows arched. “Oh? Really?”
“Yeah, really.” I went on to explain to her and my mother what I knew.
“Sounds like she plans to raise her child alone with no input from the father,” Bella said. “That sure won't be easy.”
“No, it won't,” my mother agreed. “It also sounds like she's a bit resentful toward her mother for denying her the opportunity to know her father. Yet she's going to be doing the same thing.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but I guess she justifies it by not letting him know at all. Unlike Bianca. I couldn't believe it when I saw that photo of the three of them together, and she didn't even tell her daughter that the man was her father.”
“It's very sad,” my mother said. “I have a feeling Fiona didn't get much guidance from her mother growing up. I'm glad you invited her to come here, Marin. From the sound of the laughter inside, I think she's a hit with the boys.”
And she was. When we went back into the house, the first words out of John's mouth were, “Hey, I'm going to be an uncle.”
Jason laughed. “Yeah, not only do we get a sister; we're going to have a niece or nephew in May.”
No judging. No harsh words. My boys had not only accepted Fiona's news but displayed excitement about it. I smiled. Again I thought,
Andrew and I must have done something right.
 
My mother and I were up early Christmas morning to prepare for a house full of people. Rather than a sit-down dinner later in the day, we had opted to have a buffet-style meal, but that still involved a fair amount of work and preparation.
We had just finished our first cup of coffee when Bella appeared in the kitchen.
“Why didn't you wake me up?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and stretching.
“Oh, don't worry,” I told her. “You'll be able to pitch in and help, but grab a cup of coffee first, and there's some muffins on the counter to go with it. Then we'll put you to work.”
Bella laughed as she filled a mug. “Fiona still sleeping?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I'm sure she's exhausted after yesterday.”
“Has she seen an obstetrician yet?” my mother asked as she began peeling potatoes for potato salad.
“Oh, I don't know. I didn't think to even ask her. I guess I was more concerned about what she was planning to do long term concerning the baby.”
“Well, from what you said, she has a good plan as far as going back to college in the fall and completing her education, but except for that girlfriend—her roommate—she doesn't have any support in Boston.”
“No, she doesn't,” was all I said.
Shortly before nine, Fiona walked into the kitchen carrying Toulouse. She had showered, was dressed, and looked more rested than she had the day before.
“Is this your cat, Dora? He's just gorgeous.”
“No, Toulouse is mine,” I said. “I brought him back from Paris with me. And, yeah, he's quite a handsome boy, isn't he?” I stroked the top of his head. “You like cats?”
“Oh, I do. And dogs, too, but my mom would never let me have a pet. She said with her working full-time it was just too much work.”
I recalled the dogs and cats my boys had grown up with and felt a twinge of sadness for Fiona.
“Did she always work full-time?” my mother asked, now cubing the potatoes into a saucepan.
Fiona nodded and continued to cuddle Toulouse, who was soaking up the extra attention. “Yeah. Until I got older, I went to after-school programs for a couple hours until she was done teaching her classes.”
Again, I thought back to when my boys were young—how they always returned home to find me there, waiting for them with a snack.
“So,” she said, putting Toulouse on the floor and going to the sink to wash her hands. “What can I do to help?”
“How about some coffee or tea and a muffin before we put you to work,” I told her.
“Thanks. Tea would be great,” she said, taking a muffin and joining Bella at the table. “You have very nice sons. I always wanted a sibling, and now I have two brothers.”
I glanced at her breaking off pieces of muffin and popping them into her mouth. “Thank you. I wanted to ask you . . . have you seen a doctor yet? You know, for the baby.”
“Yeah, I did. Once. He confirmed the pregnancy with a blood test. He also gave me a prescription for vitamins. Oh,” she said, jumping up and heading into the other room. “Be right back.”
She returned a few moments later with a large bottle. “Can't forget to take these. May I have a glass of water?”
It made me feel good that she seemed concerned for the baby's welfare. “Do you like juice? We have orange, fresh squeezed.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“I hope you won't feel overwhelmed later today,” my mother said. “We're going to have a pretty full house. You've already met Jason and John, but my niece Sydney and her friend Noah will be coming for dinner, and also Marin's friend Worth.”
Fiona took a sip of the juice I handed to her and waved a hand in the air. “Oh, no. Not at all. I love being with people. Especially at a holiday gathering. It was always so quiet at my house. You know, just my mother and me.”
I felt a sliver of guilt when I recalled that I'd seriously considered not having her come until after the holidays.
“We're glad you can be with us this year,” I said. And I meant it.
 
By two o'clock all of the food had been prepared and was waiting in covered dishes and bowls on the counter and a long table the boys set up in the kitchen. Worth arrived first, bringing squash casserole and a yummy-looking apple pie, followed by Sydney and Noah carrying the turkey they had cooked along with more bowls and platters.
Jason and John began pouring wine and soda into glasses as I made the introductions. I had managed to send off a quick call to both Worth and Sydney the evening before, alerting them to Fiona's pregnancy so they'd have fair warning.
I noticed that Fiona was wearing a long dark green skirt with a blousy top that managed to camouflage her tummy more than the jeans and top of the day before had.
“It's so nice to meet you,” Sydney said, giving Fiona a hug. “I hope you'll enjoy your stay here.”
“Yes,” Noah said, extending his hand. “It's good that you could join us for Christmas.”
Worth also extended his hand before saying, “Welcome to Cedar Key.”
A few minutes later, Worth placed a wineglass in my hand and steered me outside to the patio while everybody was talking and visiting.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, placing a kiss on my lips. “So how's it going?”
I shrugged before taking a sip. “Okay, I think. She seems very nice. I was just so surprised about her being pregnant.”
“I can imagine, but you said she seems to have her head on straight as far as what she plans to do.”
“Right. She does. But God, it's sure not going to be easy for her. Pretty much on her own.”
Worth nodded. “No, it won't. Did she say how long she's staying?”
“Not a word.”
He glanced inside the house. “Well, she certainly seems to be enjoying herself. I'm glad it went so well with Jason and John.”
I followed his glance to see Fiona standing between my boys, talking to Bella and Sydney, throwing her head back and laughing, and felt a smile cross my face. “They really have hit it off well. I'm proud of my sons for accepting her as they have. I think I did the right thing having her come here to meet them and spend the holidays with us.”
I felt his arm around my shoulders as we headed back inside and heard him say, “I
know
you did the right thing.”
45
B
y Tuesday morning, my mother's house had resumed the pre-Christmas quietness. Bella and the boys had left to return home over the weekend, and as I sat in the kitchen sipping my first cup of coffee, I recalled how well the visit had gone.
It had been wonderful to spend some quality time with Bella. We'd managed to slip away on Friday to walk around downtown together and have lunch while the boys continued their visit with Fiona. Friday evening I was able to spend time alone with the boys on the patio while Bella and Fiona went for a walk around the neighborhood with the dogs.
The boys were sincere in their fondness for their newly found half sister. Phone numbers and email addresses had been exchanged with a promise to keep in touch. It made me feel good that both of my sons displayed concern toward me, questioning if I was really okay with everything that had transpired. I assured them I was.
All of it had gone well—very well—and I was relieved. The only thing nagging at me was the fact that Fiona had not made any mention of when she might be returning to Boston. And today I was moving into my new home.
I looked up as she entered the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said before heading to turn on the kettle for her tea.
“Sleep well?”
“I did. And you?”
I nodded. “Yes, and a good thing, too, because it'll be busy today moving into my new place. The movers are due at the house around noon.”
“You must be so excited. I bet it's really nice.”
With Christmas and the company, I hadn't even had a chance to take Fiona over to show her where I was moving.
“I am a bit excited. A new venture, and yes, I think the house will be ideal for me. You can go over with me later.”
“Oh, I'd love to see it. Yes, you have a lot to look forward to with the house and then opening the needlepoint shop.”
I almost said,
With a baby on the way, you also have a lot ahead,
but I refrained from saying anything.
She poured steaming water into her mug and joined me at the table. “Worth seems like a very nice man.”
“He is.”
“I like him. Is he different from my father?”
“I'm not sure I know what you mean.”
She took a sip of tea before answering. “Well, from what I learned from Jason and John, Andrew was a good dad to them, but . . . it seemed like he could also be reserved. Maybe not all that outgoing. Worth is just so friendly. He made me feel really welcome here, just like you and the boys have.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I think Worth is quite a bit different than Andrew in that respect.”
“Did you love him?” she blurted, and then said, “Oh, I'm sorry. I have no right to ask you that.”
“It's okay. Yes, I did love him, but sometimes, over the years, things change. People change. Yet we keep going on.”
She nodded, like she understood. “I don't think my mother ever loved him.”
I was surprised by her honesty. “Why do you think that?”
She shrugged. “I think my mother was a very self-contained person. Oh, I'm sure she was attracted to my father, but . . . I just don't think she really loved him. I think if she had, she would have allowed us to have a relationship, but she denied both of us.”
I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened in my own marriage if Andrew had sprung a daughter on me years ago, when he was still alive, when our boys were still young.
“Would you have liked that? Maybe coming to visit your father a couple times a year or having him go up to visit you? Do you think it would have changed anything in your life?”
Fiona thought about this for a few minutes and then said, “I'm not sure, but I'll never know, will I?”
 
By six o'clock the bulk of moving in had been completed. Without the help of Chloe, Grace, Sydney, Monica, Suellen, and Fiona, that never would have happened.
I finished arranging glasses in my cabinet and glanced over to watch Fiona emptying the last box of kitchen linens and filling the closet. I had enjoyed having her with us all day. In addition to being very helpful, she had been pleasant to have around. I could tell that my friends also enjoyed her company.
“Time to eat,” Chloe announced, walking in with large boxes of pizza.
“Perfect timing,” Grace said, coming from the bedroom area. “I just finished unpacking the box of towels for the bathroom.”
“You guys are so great,” I said, uncorking a bottle of Beaujolais. “Thank you all so much.”
Sydney, Monica, and Suellen came into the kitchen. “The bed in the guest room is all done up,” Suellen said and eyed the pizza. “Oh! Food! I'm starved.”
I laughed and joined them at the table. “Would you like soda, Fiona?”
“I'll get myself some ice water,” she said, causing me to acknowledge that since she'd arrived she had not expected to be waited on.
We all dug into the pizza, creating sounds of pleasure as we ate.
“So how long do you plan to be on Cedar Key?” Suellen asked between mouthfuls.
Fiona had been with me a week, and there had been no word as to when she might be leaving. I silently thanked Suellen for broaching the subject.
But when I glanced across the table, I could tell Fiona felt uncomfortable.
“Oh, well . . . um . . . I'm not sure,” she said, throwing me a glance.
“Right.” I took a sip of wine. “As you know, Fiona's pregnant, so she's not in college at the moment, and the restaurant let her go a few weeks ago, so . . . she really has no commitments to return home immediately.”
I could have sworn that was a look of gratitude she shot me.
“Well, that's really great. So you might even still be here when Marin opens the needlepoint shop, and of course that will call for another party,” Chloe said, causing all of us to laugh.
“Are you a knitter?” Monica asked. “Because we meet at the yarn shop on Thursday evenings, and you might want to join us.”
“Oh, really?” I could tell by the expression on her face that she was pleased with the invitation. “I do knit.”
I was surprised to learn this. “Oh, I had no idea.”
Fiona nodded. “Yeah, there was an older woman who lived next door to us. She taught me when I was around ten. My mother didn't knit at all, so I was lucky I was able to learn so young. I do have my knitting with me, but we've been so busy I haven't touched it yet.”
“That's great,” I said, reaching for a second slice of pizza. “Well, you'll definitely have to come with my mother and me on Thursday evening.”
“What are you making?” Suellen asked.
Fiona paused before answering. “A baby sweater.”
Monica nodded. “I knitted a lot when I was pregnant. Good thing too—ending up with triplets.”
All of us laughed except Fiona, whose face had paled. “You have
triplets?
”
“I do,” Monica said. “Two boys and a girl. They'll turn four in February.”
“Oh, my goodness! How on earth did you handle three babies at once? I'm not sure I'll even be able to handle one.”
I reached across the table and patted Fiona's hand. “Of course you will.”
“I did it with a lot of help. Believe me, if not for most of the town pitching in to help, I wouldn't have gotten through it. My family and friends were great.”
Monica abruptly stopped talking, as if realizing that Fiona was returning to the Boston area and would be alone while raising her baby. And as if realizing the same thing, Fiona also remained silent.
To break the uneasiness, Grace said, “But I don't think you have to worry about triplets. Or even twins. You're due in May? Gosh, you're not that big at all. You should have seen Monica at four months along.”
We got off the subject of babies and moved on to other topics.
By the time we finished up the pizza, Fiona seemed more herself.
I got up to begin loading the dishwasher and said, “You guys need to scoot on home. It's New Year's Eve, for goodness' sake. I'm ashamed I kept you here so long.”
“Yeah, right,” Chloe said. “Like I had any big plans tonight.”
Suellen laughed. “Same here.”
Sydney brought glasses to the dishwasher. “Noah and I are just going to have a quiet evening with a bottle of champagne at midnight.”
“And Adam and I will probably be asleep by ten,” Monica said, causing us to laugh.
“Lucas has a nice bottle of French champagne for us, but I can't promise I'll last till midnight either.” Grace began wiping down the table.
“Well, most of you have men waiting for you,” I said, pushing the button on the dishwasher. “And I'm not throwing you out, but . . .”
“And what about you?” Chloe questioned. “Where's Worth tonight? It's your first New Year's Eve together.”
It was, but he had been so understanding about my move and having my friends help me.
“He knew we were having a moving-in party, and . . . well . . . he's over at the Faraway. We'll see each other tomorrow. It's fine.”
“No, it's not,” I heard Fiona say, and all of us stared at her. “Could one of you drive me back to Dora's house, please? I can stay there tonight, and Marin . . . you need to get on the phone and call Worth. It's only eight. Tell him to come over and spend New Year's Eve with you.”
Before I could protest, the six of them grabbed their belongings, gave me hugs and kisses, and wished me a Happy New Year, and they were gone.
I was left standing in the middle of my kitchen floor, a huge smile on my face, as I reached for my cell phone.

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