Secrets on Cedar Key (26 page)

I
awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the curtains and Worth beside me.
Girlfriends are the best,
I thought. They know precisely what we need, and since Worth and I had hardly seen each other in a week, being able to spend New Year's Eve with him had been very special. But I also thought of Fiona because it had been her idea to return to my mother's house and allow Worth and me to have some privacy.

During the week that I'd come to know Fiona, I had discovered that I liked her. This wasn't all that surprising, because I had known from our brief telephone conversations that she seemed like a nice person. What had surprised me, upon meeting her, was that I felt a connection to her. This was silly, because we weren't related by blood—as she and Andrew were. But there was something about her that drew me closer. Something that made me want to know her better. I sighed as I felt Worth stir beside me. I realized that I'd probably never have that chance, because before too long she'd return to the Boston area, have the baby, and get on with her life, and although she'd stay in touch with Jason and John, I might not ever hear from her again. Just before I felt Worth drape his arm across my body and whisper, “Happy New Year,” I experienced a sense of emptiness.

“Those pancakes and grits were delicious,” Worth said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“I'm glad you enjoyed them.” I got up from my stool to grab the coffeepot and refill our cups.

I felt his arm slide around my waist as he placed a kiss on my cheek.

“That was pretty considerate of Fiona to suggest you call me last night.”

“It was,” I agreed before returning to my stool.

“You seem quiet this morning. Everything okay?”

I shot him a smile. “I'm beginning to think you might know me a little too well.”

“And that's a bad thing?” he asked, causing me to laugh.

“I guess I'm just feeling unsettled—about Fiona. I thought maybe when I mentioned the money that Andrew had provided for her she would tell me she'd be heading back to Boston soon. I told her yesterday morning that I'd be signing those documents, that I felt the money was rightfully hers and I was sure between having the baby and going to college that she'd put it to good use.”

“And what did she say?”

“Thank you.”

“That was it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that was it. No mention about when she planned to leave.”

“Hmm,” was all I heard Worth say.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Did it ever cross your mind, Marin, that maybe she doesn't
want
to leave?”

“You think she might want to stay here? With me? Why would she want to do that?”

“Because she's alone. Because she has no family in the Boston area. From what I've seen over the past week, Fiona likes it here and she likes you. I think she feels happy and secure. Your own family and friends have accepted her and have made her feel welcome.”

Now it was my turn to say, “Hmm,” as I pondered what Worth had just said.

“How would you feel about that?” he asked.

“About having her stay here permanently? I don't know. I never expected this might be a possibility when I invited her to come for a visit. I do like her. She's a nice person, easy to be with, and she's certainly a wonderful houseguest.”

“I think you need to give this some serious consideration, and then . . . you need to have a talk with Fiona. Put it out there. Tell her if you feel comfortable allowing her to stay here on a full-time basis, and if you do, you both will need to agree on the arrangements.”

I nodded. Worth was right. “I think I might enjoy having her here with me, but even more important, I hate the thought of her returning home with nobody to give her support. If she weren't pregnant, I wouldn't be as concerned. But . . . having a baby alone is not easy, and that's another thing—I'm not sure that I agree with her about not even letting the father know that she's pregnant. I understand her reasoning, but . . . I'm just not sure it's the right thing to do.”

“Then you have to be honest with her. Tell her how you feel and explain why you feel that way. Don't forget, Marin, she doesn't have a mother to walk her through this, to give her some guidance.”

Worth was right again. Not only did Fiona not have a mother—she also had no father in her life.

 

The following week Fiona and I were in my kitchen baking cookies for the opening of my needlepoint shop the next day. I still hadn't broached the subject with her about any plans to leave, but after more thought, I hoped she would choose to stay.

“So do you think you'll have a lot of people at the grand opening?” I heard her ask.

I continued to spoon chocolate chip cookie dough onto the Teflon sheet and nodded. “I'm sure all the women that you met last Thursday evening will be there and a lot of locals. We'll probably also have a fair amount of tourists dropping in.”

Fiona continued pressing a round cookie cutter into dough she had spread out on the table. “They're a really nice bunch, aren't they? All the women at the knitting group.”

I laughed. “For the most part, yes. As you noticed, Miss Raylene can be a bit condescending.”

“Yeah, but I liked her. She's feisty. She wasn't the least bit shy asking about my pregnancy and then going on about being an
unwed mother
in her day.” Fiona laughed and shook her head. “I suppose women in her age-group find it difficult to accept how much society has changed and become more accepting.”

This girl was definitely mature in her thinking. “You're going to make an excellent nurse,” I said. “You have great insight.”

“I hope that insight helps me as a new mom too.”

I slid the cookie sheet into the oven, wiped my hands on a towel, and said, “Time for a break. How about a cup of tea?”

“Sounds good. Let me just get these on the cookie sheet and in the oven with yours.”

I set the timer on the oven, turned on the kettle, and placed a few of the peanut butter cookies we'd made earlier in the morning on a plate. “It's so nice outside. Let's have our break on the patio.”

Fiona and I enjoyed the warm January air as we sipped our tea.

“It's so pretty out here,” she said. “So the house is called Safe Harbor? I like that. I like the comforting sound of it. That a house can represent security and family.”

My gaze was caught by movement in the air near the shore, and I felt a chill go through me. Dragonflies. The dragonflies were back, hovering near the water.

“Didn't you have that sense of security and family growing up in your house?” I asked.

Fiona nibbled on a bite of cookie. “Being an only child was always tough. Nobody to play with, share secrets with, build a history with. But not having a father around made it even tougher, I think. My mother always worked, and when she was home, she was wrapped up in her own life. Oh, don't get me wrong—she was a good mother. And I did all the kid things, ballet lessons, piano lessons, gymnastics, summer camp. But my mother didn't have a job; she had a career. So a lot of her time at home was spent grading papers, doing research, that sort of thing. Sometimes we did things together, but not often. She was a good mom, but we just didn't have a close mother-daughter relationship.”

A twinge of sadness went through me. It sounded like while Fiona had had a good childhood, she also had had a lonely childhood.

“How do you think she would have reacted to your pregnancy?” I asked. “Do you think she would have been supportive or angry?”

Fiona let out a chuckle. “I don't think she would have been angry, based on her own situation. She probably would have been supportive, but I don't think she would have been too excited at the prospect of becoming a grandmother. I really don't think she was that fond of children, to be honest, and I used to sometimes wonder why she kept me. It would have been much easier to give me up for adoption, especially since she didn't include my father in my life.”

I blew air through my lips as I continued to watch the dragonflies. This young woman seemed to have an exceptional understanding of reality. Not only did she seem to understand, but she didn't seem to place blame on her mother for any shortcomings.

“Fiona,” I said. “I wanted to discuss something with you. About your return to Boston.”

Her head shot up as she stared at me. “Have I overstayed my welcome?”

I heard the concern in her words. “No, no. Not at all. It's just that . . . well . . . you've been here two weeks. I've enjoyed having you. Very much. But . . . we need to figure out what, exactly, you're going to do. It's probably time to be seen by the doctor again, plans have to be put in place for the delivery, and frankly, I don't like the thought of you returning home and only having your roommate to depend on.”

She remained silent, her eyes not leaving my face.

“And so . . . I was wondering . . . if maybe you'd like to stay here. Permanently. Have the baby and maybe even attend the university in Gainesville to complete your degree. You'd be able to have a lot of support here—people to help you—but this would have to be your decision, and of course, we'd have to agree on certain things.”

I looked up to see tears in her eyes. Tears that she wasn't even bothering to brush away.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean you'd be willing to let me stay here? With you?” The tears were now falling down her face, and she swiped them with her hand. “When I first met you at the airport, I knew I liked you. A lot. I immediately knew why my father chose to stay with you. Why he didn't break up his family for my mother and me. And since I've been here, I felt like I
did
belong, and that was because of you. But I didn't . . . allow myself to think it was possible that I could stay.”

I was humbled by what this girl had just said to me.

She swiped at her tears again. “I would love to stay here. I've always wanted a family, and you've made me feel like I was part of yours.”

I nodded and felt a lump in my throat. “Okay,” I said. “Okay. Well, there's a few things we need to discuss. Things that we both have to agree on to make this work.”

Fiona stared at me, an expectant look on her face.

“I know it's none of my business, but . . . I do think you should at least let the father know that you're pregnant and where you're at. Beyond that, it's up to you what you choose to do concerning him. But I feel he has a right to know. You'll have to get established with an obstetrician in Gainesville, and you'll have to get your transcript transferred to UF and put in an application to hopefully begin classes in the fall.”

“That's all?” she said as she jumped up to pull me into a tight embrace.

I laughed and said, “Yes, that's all.” I felt her arms around me and her cheek next to mine, and for the first time in my life I had a feeling what it must be like to have a daughter.

B
y mid-February, life seemed to be on a more even keel. Fiona had moved in with me, we had visited an obstetrician in Gainesville whom she liked, she had already had her transcript transferred to the university and applied for the fall semester, and I wasn't sure if the happiness she radiated was due to pregnancy or to the fact that she truly did feel part of a family.

“Hey,” Berkley said. “I love those new hand-painted canvases you got in yesterday. I'm thinking of doing one of the cat ones. You have one that's an amazing likeness to my Sigmund, but then of course Brit will feel left out.”

I looked up from the silk threads I'd been placing in the correct drawers and laughed. “Oh, I could order you one that would resemble Brit. Dogs are pretty popular with needlepoint.”

“That would be great, but I'll definitely purchase that cat one today. So how's everything going?”

I was almost scared to say it. “Actually, very well. Fiona is due into Gainesville at twelve-thirty, and Worth has gone to pick her up for me at the airport.”

“Oh, that's right. She flew up to Boston last week to get things settled up there and talk to the father, huh? How'd that go?”

I nodded. “Yeah, her doctor said she can't fly after seven months, so she decided to go now, and I think it went pretty well. I'll get more details when she gets back, but she did call Greg, they've been together discussing everything, and from the sounds of it, he was pretty excited about the baby.”

“Oh, that's great. I'm happy for her. She seems like such a nice kid.”

I smiled. “Not so much a kid anymore. She turns twenty in April and will be having her own child the next month.”

Berkley nodded. “True. When's her due date?”

“May ninth, but the doctor said she could be early. The baby's a pretty good size.”

“Well, at least she knows it's not triplets like Monica. Do you know if it's a boy or girl yet?”

“She doesn't want to know. Said it would be more fun to be surprised, so we've been knitting baby items in green, white, or yellow.”

“You seem to be enjoying this, Marin. Your new role as impending grandmother.”

“Oh, I'm not the grandmother.” Was I?

“Of course you are. Fiona is your husband's daughter. You might not be a blood relative, but . . . you're still going to be a grandmother.”

I smiled. I certainly had not considered this, but I rather liked the idea.

I removed the cat canvas from the clips where it had been hanging. “Is this the one you want?”

“Yeah, that's the one. Now I have to choose my threads,” she said, walking to the cabinet containing all the various cotton and silk threads.

After I rang up her purchase and she left, I stood looking around the shop and felt a sense of contentment. Despite the delays and disappointments, the needlepoint shop had finally become a reality, and during the past month, I'd been doing quite well with business. I gave some thought to what Berkley had said about me becoming a grandmother and smiled. Although Fiona had not referred to me with this title, Berkley was right. If Andrew were still alive and had contact with his daughter, her child would be
our
grandchild.

 

Later that evening I sat at the table over dinner listening to Worth and Fiona discussing various news events and felt grateful for the paths my life had taken over the past year. Not only had Worth come into my life sharing his love, but now I also had Fiona, and soon her baby would be joining us. I liked how Worth and Fiona got along. It was obvious that they liked each other, and I couldn't help but wonder if possibly Fiona looked up to him as one might a father figure.

“Okay,” I heard her say. “Enough chitchat. I'm sure you both want to know what happened with Greg.”

Worth had told me after they arrived back from the airport that Fiona wanted to wait till we were all together for dinner before she shared any information.

“From what you've told me so far, it seems like it went pretty well?”

“I think it did.” She fingered the linen napkin beside her dish. “He said he loves me and didn't want me to break up with him, but . . . he felt if I didn't love him in return, our relationship had no hope.” She looked up at both of us across the table. “I do love Greg. Very much. He's quite excited about the baby,” she said, and I saw a smile cross her face. “And you were right, Marin. Telling him was the right thing to do.” She let out a sigh. “But we both agree we have to be practical. In other words, it would be foolish to rush into getting married right now. I need to complete my education, and that will take three years. Greg also wants to work on his doctorate. So . . . we've decided to make a commitment to each other; Greg will be a part of our child's life and will be involved. He plans to fly down here in a few weeks. He'd like to meet you both. He also wants to be here as soon as the baby is born and . . . he's in the process of applying for a teaching position at UF.”

Life was most definitely on a more even keel. “Oh, Fiona, that's wonderful. It sounds like you both made some very wise decisions. In the years to come, I don't think either one of you will be sorry for completing your education. And of course, we look forward to meeting Greg.”

Worth nodded. “He sounds like an intelligent man. And I give my approval,” he said, which caused Fiona to giggle.

I got up to lean over and give her a hug. “I want you to know that I support you one hundred percent, and . . . your father would also approve of your plans.”

 

The following Thursday evening, the knitting group was gathered at Yarning Together.

“So can you believe it?” Raylene said. “There really
is
going to be a movie filmed here on the island. I knew that Carl and I were right.”

Corabeth shook her head and laughed. “Yes, Raylene, but technically it's
not
a movie. It's a documentary about sea life in Cedar Key. I tend to doubt that you'll be getting a part, so I'd say your actress days are over before they begin.”

Laughter erupted in the shop as Raylene tossed her head and sniffed. “Oh, don't be too sure of that. I might be able to convince them that they need a local with lots of information.”

“Right. But I wouldn't be running out to purchase a gown for the Academy Awards,” Flora said, causing all of us to laugh again.

“It's the university that's doing the documentary, isn't it?” my mother questioned.

Chloe nodded. “Yeah. I believe it's the journalism department in conjunction with the science department.”

“Well, it's still a good thing,” Sydney said. “It'll be informational and promote some interest in the island.”

I looked around at the women, all knitting away on the Compassion Shawl, and smiled. My gaze fell on Fiona, and I felt my smile broaden. This shawl seemed even more significant now. My mother had been right. Because I had allowed myself to forgive Andrew and in doing so had accepted Fiona, my life had taken off in a whole new direction, and I realized that compassion had been a vital part of making that happen.

“Hey, everybody,” I said, standing up. “Time for our pastry break. I brought the dessert tonight, and it's Friendship Bread.”

“Oh, I love that,” Berkley said. “There's so many variations of it, and I like the fact you can create it to be whatever you want.”

My mother helped to slice it as I filled coffee cups.

“This is delicious,” Corabeth announced. “Now, what on earth is that special taste?”

I laughed. “It's key lime. I added the juice of key limes to the batter, and it does give it a unique flavor.”

“Oh, it certainly does,” Monica agreed. “I love it.”

After we were seated with everyone enjoying the bread and coffee, Monica said, “Fiona, I meant to tell you, I'm not sure what you have for the baby, but I have three of everything. I'd love for you to use anything you might need. I have cradles, cribs, swings, car seats—you name it, I have it.”

Fiona laughed. “You sound like a baby store. Thank you. I might take you up on your offer for a few items.”

“Which reminds me,” I said. “I was hoping the two of us could go shopping next month after your doctor appointment. I wanted to buy some things for the baby.”

Fiona's face lit up. “Oh, that would be great. Since you're going to be the grandmother, I have a feeling this child might be a little bit spoiled.”

I felt my heart turn over. Had she really said that? That
I
would be the grandmother? “Really? You're going to consider me the baby's grandmother?”

The look on her face told me there was no doubt whatsoever. “Well, of course you are. Gosh, I thought you knew that. Unless . . . you'd rather not be.”

“Are you crazy?” I burst out laughing. “I'm thrilled. I couldn't be any happier,” I said and heard clapping fill the room.

“Congratulations,” Chloe said. “You beat me. I'm still waiting.”

“Your life will never be the same. Becoming a grandmother brings so much pleasure and joy,” Sydney told us.

“So what would you like to be called?” Fiona asked. “Because, of course, Dora will be the great-grandmother, and she's called Gran.”

I looked over to see a huge smile covering my mother's face.

“You can call me
Nana,
” I said and heard more clapping and laughter fill the room.