Page 118 of Summer Longing
“Olivia,” he said, “will you marry me?”
And there, on that wet sandbar in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by water and kissed by the sun, she saw what her life was supposed to be.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He slipped the ring on her finger. In her heart, she’d never be back on dry land.
Elise agreed to Ruth’s suggestion that they walk over to the Barroses’ together to say goodbye to Jaci.
She knew that if she and Fern had not had their precious secret, she would not have been able to face Jaci. She still missed Mira every minute of the day. She woke at night, expecting to hear her hungry cry. The emptiness felt unbearable, but at least she had hope.
She and Fern had agreed not to tell anyone else about her pregnancy. It was too early; Fern would have waited another few weeks even to tell Elise if circumstances had not forced her hand. For now, they would keep the news to themselves, praying every day for the tiny life inside Fern to thrive.
In the meantime, Elise found great strength and solace in the lengths her wife had gone to in order to make her happy. Every small chip of resentment Elise had been harboring for the past year disappeared; there was no denying or mistaking the fact that she had a truly unselfish partner. Whatever happened with their quest to become mothers, Elise vowed to herself that her new understanding of the true depth of her marriage would sustain her.
“She’s upstairs in her room,” Lidia told them after she greeted them at the back door. Her olive skin showed even darker circles under her eyes than usual.
“How’s Mira doing?” Elise asked—could not help asking. She’d wondered if the Barroses would change her name. So far, they seemed to be sticking with Mira, so maybe Elise’s small contribution to the life of that child would be an enduring one.
“She’s an angel. And as you know, she’s really got an appetite,” Lidia said. “But to be honest, Olivia and Marco have been taking care of her the most.”
Elise nodded, ignoring the tightness in her chest. Why was it still so difficult?
“Is Jaci here? We just wanted to say goodbye,” Ruth said, then held up the paper shopping bag. “I brought her a little care package to start her year.”
“That’s so sweet. She’s in her room. Go right on up.”
Elise headed up; Ruth lingered to make plans with Lidia to meet for coffee. “You need to take an hour for yourself,” she heard Ruth saying. Clearly, she too had noticed the exhaustion in Lidia’s face.
Jaci’s bedroom door was open; packed suitcases stood at the foot of her bed. She was on her phone, music playing quietly. Elise rapped on the doorframe to announce herself.
“Oh, hey,” Jaci said, sitting up straight and putting down her phone. “Come in.”
“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Elise said, coming over to the bed.
“Please, sit,” Jaci said.
Elise perched uncomfortably on the edge. “I can’t stay long,” she said. “And Ruth is on her way up too.”
“Elise, I’m so sorry for any upset I caused. I really had this idea that it would be win-win. I didn’t think it through. It was an emotional decision, not a smart one, and you got caught in the middle of it. Can you ever forgive me?” Her big dark eyes teared up. Her eyes were so much like Mira’s, Elise once again wondered how she could have missed the clues. But there was no sense in going over all of that again. It was time to let it go.
In the spirit of letting go, of moving forward, Elise reached into her pocket and pulled out the tiny beaded anklet Mira had worn the day she appeared on the doorstep.
“Of course I forgive you,” Elise said. “And I wanted you to have this.”
Jaci held the plastic beads and closed her hand around them.
“I made this myself,” Jaci said. “I wanted you to know her birthday, and I wanted you to know that she was loved.”
Elise leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “I realize now all the time you spent hanging around our house, offering to babysit, wasn’t just about avoiding the oyster farm.”
Jaci nodded, sniffling. “It’s been so much harder than I thought.”
“Motherhood always is,” Ruth said from the doorway.
She walked into the room and set her care package on Jaci’s nightstand. Jaci sniffled again and pulled her knees up to her chest. Elise scooted over to make room for Ruth. The three of them sat in silence for a minute.
“Jaci,” Ruth finally said. “I just want you to know that there’s no such thing as a perfect mother. We all make mistakes, big and small, along the way.”
