Page 58 of Summer Longing
“Yeah, well, Marconeedsme. My uncle Tito gave him the water grant a few years ago, and Marco started the oyster farm thinking I’d be in it with him someday. My family has made a living off the water for generations and it’s not something that works without a group effort or at least a partnership. It’s a really big deal for me to walk away.”
“Jaci, you’re entitled to live your own life. Besides, it’s better to just pull the Band-Aid off and say you’re not doing it instead of hiding out here. They’ll get over it.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Why is it easy for me to say?”
“Because you’re not close with your mother. I mean, you don’t understand what I have to lose.”
“How do you know about my relationship with my mother?”
“You told me before. The day I met you. You said, ‘I try to avoid my mother most of the time.’”
That’s right. She had said that. “Well, I have a close relationship with my father,” Olivia said defensively. She heard her phone ring in the other room. “Excuse me.”
She walked back to the foldout couch and saw that the incoming number was her father’s. “Hey,” she said. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Just checking in,” her dad said.
“One second, okay?” Still rankled by Jaci’s comments about her family ties, or lack thereof, she marched back into the living room and pointed to her phone.My father,she mouthed.
Jaci nodded, looking confused.
Olivia returned to her room and closed the door. “Have you thought about maybe coming out here?” Olivia said.
“I have. But it’s a long drive so I want to stay over at least one night. Maybe two. I looked into hotel availability and there’s really nothing in town this week or next. I get the sense things are booked up far in advance around there.”
“You can stay here,” she blurted out. “There’s an extra room on the third floor because I’m sleeping in the den.”
“Stay at your mother’s house? Olivia, you know that’s not possible.”
“Why not? Honestly, it’s not even like it’s her house. There are other people staying here.”
“What other people?”
“The women who own the house. And a baby they’re taking care of. It’s a long story. Anyway, this place feels like a hotel. Or a weird bed-and-breakfast. Trust me.”
He didn’t respond, and she knew he was considering it. She wondered if he was lonely, if maybe he wanted to make the trip as much as she wanted him to come. Or maybe she was just trying to justify her own neediness.
“Have you discussed this with your mother?” he said.
“She’s fine with it,” Olivia said quickly. And she would be—just as soon as Olivia spoke to her.
“Okay,” her father said. “I’ll come for a day or two and then drive you home. I don’t want you stuck out there indefinitely.”
“Thank you!” Olivia said, relief coursing through her. “You’re the best. Call me or text me when you decide what day you’re coming. I love you.” When she hung up, she marched back into the living room.
“My dad is coming to see me,” she said to Jaci, who looked up from her book. “We’re very close.”
Elise had been initiated, in a trial by fire, into the distinct club of working mothers. Did other women, she wondered, spend every minute of their nine-to-five jobs thinking more about their children than the task at hand? Maybe her preoccupation was exacerbated by the uncertainty of her situation. Regardless, she could not enjoy—could barely deal with—the robust business at Tea by the Sea. It was keeping her from Mira.
“We need to hire someone,” she said to Fern during a brief lull. “Let me reach out to Cynthia Wesson. If it’s like this now, in early June, what will we do in July?”
“I’ll call her today,” Fern said.
This small bit of progress sustained Elise until she was able to duck out in the late afternoon and pick up Mira from the Beach Rose Inn. The sight of Mira, wide-eyed, buckled into her stroller and ready to go home, warmed her heart.
Back at Shell Haven, she poured four ounces of formula into a bottle. She was feeding her every three or four hours around the clock. So far, she was doing all the night feedings. Fern hadn’t volunteered, and Elise didn’t feel the climate was right for her to ask for help. She was exhausted.
