Page 19 of The Note

Downstairs, Kelsey was changing the sheets in the bedroom, soon to be occupied by Nate. “Oh, I wish you were staying,” Kelsey said, looking up from her current task of stuffing a pillowcase.

“I wish I could stay longer too,” May replied. “But I have a lot of work to do, and I need to get back to it.”

“Isn’t that one of the perks of being a law professor?” Kelsey said. “Time off, like when we were back in school? Summer camp for life?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’ve been warned by the senior faculty that summer can vanish in the blink of an eye if you’re not careful. I’m trying to keep myself on a writing schedule. With all the class prep from teaching last year, I didn’t finish an article in time to submit it to the law reviews. I want to make sure I have a solid draft by August. I’m up for contract renewal next year and need it to be a slam dunk.” In year six, she’d be up fortenure—the golden ticket for a legal scholar, a guarantee of lifetime employment.

“You put so much pressure on yourself. I have no doubt that you’ll sail through with flying colors. You always do!” Kelsey tugged playfully on the sleeve of May’s T-shirt, and May turned her head so Kelsey couldn’t read her expression. She had never told anyone, not even her mother or Josh, that her departure from the law firm wasn’t exactly voluntary.

She took a seat at the foot of the bed and gestured for Kelsey to sit beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. “Hey, you never brought it up again, but if you ever want to talk about the decision whether to go ahead with the baby, I want you to know I’m here for you—even if you just need a sounding board.”

Kelsey placed a hand on May’s knee. “Thank you so much. That really does mean a lot to me.”

“It’s been like old times being here together. I still feel so guilty for not reaching out after Luke—”

Kelsey shushed her. “That’s ancient history. And, for what it’s worth, I still have a lot to mull over before I decide to go forward. I assume Luke told his parents that we fertilized my eggs. The clinic said it was the best way to maximize our chances of it working. And if I get pregnant and they find out, they’ll stop at nothing until theyknow whether he’s the father. I really don’t want to have anything to do with them after they wouldn’t defend me when he died.”

“Do they really think you had something to do with it? The police even said you’re not a suspect.” Kelsey had mentioned that much in conversation, but May already knew from following the investigation.

“I’m not a suspect, but I am pretty sure my father pulled some strings to get them to put out a statement to that effect. You know how he gets in the middle of everything when it comes to me. They wouldn’t usually clear someone publicly if the case is still open, right?”

“No, probably not,” May said quietly.

“So I don’t think Luke’s parents were ever willing to close the door on the possibility that my father’s influence may have gone further than that. I’ve always had this lingering fear they’ll even try to stop me from using the fertilized eggs, even though it’s clear they don’t have that power. But if I actually get pregnant? Maybe they’ll try to have a relationship with my kids, and who knows what they might say about me behind my back.”

May arched a brow. “Kids, huh. Multiple?”

“Yeah,” Kelsey said, smiling. “If I still have time.”

The idea of getting pregnant by a dead man who would have eventually been your ex-husband struck May as surreal. Yet she understood Kelsey’s willingness—it was her only option if she wanteda biological connection to her children. And May knew how much Kelsey yearned to be a good mother after losing both her own mom and then the stepmother who finished raising her. When Kelsey’s father had divorced Nate’s mom, Jeanie, she initially made some token efforts to stay in touch with Kelsey—the occasional card, a Christmas gift—but within a few years, even those ceased. May could still remember how upset Kelsey was when her former mom-slash-stepmom no-showed at her college graduation after Kelsey told her how much she wanted her to be there.

“I can research the law on that if you want. I don’t think they’d have any kind of rights to visitation.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got someone in Boston working on it. I wish I could build a time machine. I’d go back and have the babies before my surgery. We talked about it, but we had just gotten married and Luke was trying to get the restaurant going. We thought we had so much time. Maybe if we’d had the kids, he wouldn’t have left me. Maybe he wouldn’t have even been in the car that night.”

May took Kelsey’s hand in hers. “Honey, don’t do that to yourself, okay? There are no time machines, and you still have the eggs. You have choices.”

“I know. It just might be a really dumb idea. It would be better if I could get remarried first. I’d even be willing to use an egg donor and surrogateif that was important to him. You know, to leave Luke out of it. Would that be crazy?”

“Nope, not at all. And whatever you decide, anything you need—really, I’m here.”

“Live-in, full-time nanny?”

“Yeah, no.”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. They walked out of the bedroom to find Lauren entering the kitchen, a grease-smudged paper bag in hand. “You guys, the farm stand down the road had cinnamon rolls the size of my head. I couldn’t resist.”

After sliding a gigantic pastry onto a plate, Lauren pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her purse. There was a tear at the top of the page where she’d pulled it down, but the two words filling the top line of text were clear:missing person.

“So … weird question, but does this guy look familiar?”

Square jaw. Blond hair tousled with plenty of product. Good teeth. May glanced at the picture and shook her head. “I mean, he kind of just looks like a generic white guy. Even his name is generic. David Smith?”

Kelsey said nothing, staring at the picture with a furrowed brow.

“Take a closer look,” Lauren encouraged.

May did as instructed, but every time she thought maybe something about the man’s general appearance might be familiar, she lost it, andhe became a total stranger again. Even the name rang a distant bell, but she had likely encountered a David Smith or two at some point in life. “What are we missing?”

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