Page 159 of The Seven Rings
“Anna’s having the baby!”
“I was coming down to tell you. Trey’s with her.”
“And Owen’s heading over there because he says Trey’s all at once a basket case.”
“I heard that for myself. It was kind of cute.”
“I’m lighting candles for Mama, and for Fill-in-the-Blank Kate Miller. We’re going to be honorary aunties. And you’ll be able to drop thathonorarysoon. It’s going to be soon.”
“God, that’s right! Let’s light a whole bunch of candles.”
“That’s what we’ll do. After, we go up to the widow’s walk, have some wine to toast them both. Then we come down, light a veritable shitload of candles, make one of our big salads.”
“A most excellent plan. Anna said they said a few hours yet at least.”
“Bringing a human being into the world takes time. So we add popcorn and a movie.”
“I’m for all that. You can bug Owen for updates. I think I shouldn’t distract Trey.”
Cleo chose some wine. “So, what’s a flustered Trey like?”
“Adorable.”
Owen’s updates throughout the evening largely consisted of: Not yet.
They left the candles burning until midnight, through dinner, popcorn, a double feature.
The final text as one day became the next had a little more.
They’re saying a couple hours more. Everything’s doing what it’s supposed to do. They kicked everybody out but Seth, his mom, and Corrine until it’s wrapped up.
After Cleo read off the text, she started to answer. “I’ll tell him to text me, have Trey text you when the baby’s here.”
“You’ll never hear a text once you’re asleep. Tell him to have Trey call me.”
“You’re right, and that’s better. You can come in and wake me up with the good news.”
They blew out the candles, headed to bed.
“Almost to the finish line,” Sonya said.
“It’s a marathon. Wake me up.”
“I will. I’m going to let Yoda and Pye out one last time. I want a quick walk anyway.”
Because she wanted the sea, she took them out the front. On thecool, cloudy night, the twinkle of lights in the weeping tree broke through the dark.
She thought of Anna, laboring to bring a new life into the world, and patted the phone in her pocket.
As she walked toward the seawall she heard music. The piano in the parlor—not Astrid’s sad song, but something livelier, happier. A man and woman’s voice sang a duet.
Even as she turned back, the light of a sky full of brilliant stars and the bright half-moon washed over her. The sea breeze blew, but warmer than it had.
The couple, he in formal black, she in a long, pale green dress with white, elbow-length gloves, strolled across the lawn. She wore her dark hair up in a high knot, which added to her statuesque silhouette. A tall comb glittered above the knot.
As they walked past her, close enough to touch, Sonya recognized Owen, a young Owen Poole, and Agatha, the fourth bride.
“It’s somewhat cooler tonight than I realized,” he said. “Are you warm enough, or shall I fetch your shawl?”
