Page 41 of A Winter's Miracle

“She always took care of him,” Anna recalled. “She brought him pasta and little treats, things like that.”

“I remember,” Scarlet said. “My mom thought it was sweet. Like Violet wanted to adopt him because he never really had a mother.”

Anna wrinkled her nose. “It is sweet, I guess. I don’t know. I just can’t figure out what they said to one another that pushed them both out the door.”

Scarlet groaned and took a swig of wine.

“I was stupid to think it could be that easy,” Anna whispered, looking out the window, where a March rain splattered. “I should have guarded my heart. I should have kept to myself.”

“No,” Scarlet insisted, her hand in a fist. “He’s smarter than this. He’s a writer. He knows words have meanings. He knows what he’s done.” She snarled. “We’re going to find him, Anna.”

But Anna knew better than to fight for something when it was straining to get away from you. She shook her head and looked down at Adam, reminding herself of the only thing she was put on the earth to fight for.

Chapter Twenty

It was true that Smith’s writing had dwindled over the previous few weeks. Julia had chased him for assignments, reminding him that if they didn’t finish the first draft soon, there was no hope of an autumn release. Already, Bernard had finished his first draft and was working on his edits, setting his book up to be the “release of the holiday season.” Julia ached for Smith, for what he was throwing away. Didn’t he know he could have been someone great?

Maybe not everyone reached their potential, Julia reminded herself. Maybe Smith would be one of the ones who slipped through her fingers.

And this was proven true on day three after he left when he returned his advance. Julia wrote him an email immediately, explaining that, legally, he didn’t have to do that. That the money was his. But he didn’t respond.

In the wake of Smith’s departure, initial spring temperatures shot back down the wintery ones, capturing everyone back in The Copperfield House for more rounds of tea and cozy movie nights. Anna wore sweats continually and wandered around the house glumly with Adam on her chest. Julia tried her best to bring Anna’s spirits up, including her in last-minute wedding plans and dragging her to her final wedding dress fittings.

“She tried to love again,” Charlie said over dinner one night, “and it failed. I can only imagine this has drudged up even more pain from losing Dean. One loss always brings up another.”

Julia was surprised at how much she missed Violet. Ever since their trip to Manhattan, she’d genuinely enjoyed Violet’s presence, grateful for her whimsy, her wedding planning, and her clear love of Adam. She was just as much Adam’s grandmother as Julia was, and Julia found herself panging with guilt, wondering if they’d had a hand in pushing her out the door. Her crimes had been minimal. She’d bought too much baby gear and given too much parenting advice. But they’d fallen in love with her. They wanted her in the Copperfield family.

Four nights after Violet and Smith left The Copperfield House, Julia was up late, editing Bernard’s manuscript. She found herself laughing aloud at his prose, grateful that he’d found his sense of humor again.

A knock on the door brought Anna inside. Unlike usual, she didn’t have Adam with her. “Scarlet offered to babysit,” she explained. “I worked out, shaved my legs, and listened to a podcast. It was wonderful.”

Julia laughed and twirled in her office chair. After two and a half months of motherhood, Anna had begun to look more and more like herself—younger, fresher, healthier. It was terrible, the toll pregnancy took on your body. Julia had mostly blocked out her three pregnancies and the terror she’d gone through trying to fit back into a size four. She’d felt professional, personal, and husband pressure. Ugh.

“I wanted to tell you something,” Anna announced. “Something I remember from that last day with Smith.”

Julia cocked her head. She sensed a confession.

“He asked me, um, if I would ever write about Dean,” Anna stuttered. “If I would ever, you know, write about his tragedy and giving birth to his baby nine months later. And without thinking, I told him I thought some things are too sacred to write about.” Anna grimaced and clasped her hands.

Julia bowed her head. Already, she’d sensed this had something to do with it but hadn’t found a way to articulate it to Anna. There were some things words couldn’t express fully.

“It’s not your fault, honey,” she assured her. “I think Smith was already getting cold feet about doing the memoir.”

“But I pushed him,” Anna said.

“No. I don’t think so,” Julia insisted. “Writing about his past was too painful for him. I think, in our genetic makeup, it’s almost impossible to betray our mothers like that, no matter how cruel or awful they were. I feel bad for even allowing him to go after it.” Julia grimaced as guilt swelled in her chest. Had she really wanted to push Smith for her publishing house’s profit? Was that really what she was all about?

Julia had to take a cold, hard look at her motivations. She had to remember to exhibit empathy in everything she did. Otherwise, she was no better than Marcia Conrad.

Anna’s face echoed with empathy. After a thoughtful pause, she added, “Smith never told me what happened to his mother.”

“He never reached that part of the book,” Julia said. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Anna and Scarlet took Adam to his next doctor’s appointment, where they learned that Adam was healthy and happy and still far bigger than most babies his age. Anna laughed, saying, “I can already feel it in my arms! He’s growing!”

To this, the doctor said, “You’ll get stronger.” And Anna felt this was a wonderful metaphor for motherhood. That when things got harder and heavier, you were simply required to tackle them. And you did that because of the strength of your love.

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