Unexpected Arrivals(57)
Dottie had never talked to me that way. She’d never been so cruel. It didn’t matter if there were any validity to anything she’d said, it stung.
I’d struggled with this decision since I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t arrive at this conclusion on a whim—I’d agonized over it. The weight of either choice held dire consequences, but if Cora said yes, then she and Carp had a fighting chance at the love of a lifetime. I’d never have that and refused to rob him of it, or her. And no matter what scenario ran through my head, I always wanted Carp to get the best life he could have. I didn’t care to saddle him with my problems or a child. And if he ever found out, it’d be too late to change anything.
Lying back on my pillows, I propped my feet up on the end of the bed. My tummy had started to pooch just a bit with the hint of a baby underneath. I hadn’t told my mom, although at this point, I wasn’t sure it would matter. She’d been virtually unresponsive for days, and the end was near. I rubbed a shaky hand over my belly and talked to the bump as if the baby inside could hear me.
Maybe I was selfish, and it had likely shaped my decision, but I was okay with this baby being mine. My mother had been the center of my universe all my life, and I hated to admit that being on the cusp of that ending made me want to complete the cycle with my own little version of me. I strived to be the mother Janie Airy had been. She’d fulfilled all her dreams—even knowing she would get sick—with me in tow. It was probably na?ve to think she’d preferred it that way, but I’d always believed she did.
Either way, I still had time to change my mind. Carp wouldn’t be back from Paris until the beginning of January. And one way or another, he’d have an answer either way when he returned. I’d only be a little over five months along, so if they weren’t engaged, that was more than enough time to pull the trigger and allow him to be involved. And if he didn’t, I would be prepared for that as well. However, if they did get engaged, I hadn’t gotten my hopes up to begin with.
I had no desire to be with James Carpenter. I wasn’t in love with him, and I had zero romantic interest—taking the love of his life away just seemed like a cruel punishment. My phone rang on the nightstand next to me, breaking me out of the vicious circle of thoughts I couldn’t escape on my own.
Speak of the devil. “Hey, Carp.” I had to make a concerted effort these days to keep my voice light. He knew I was dealing with something that kept me from being super cheerful, although he thought it revolved solely around my mom.
“Hey, Chelsea. I’m glad to see you haven’t fallen into the portal.”
“What?” I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“I haven’t heard from you in a couple days and was afraid Geneva Key had swallowed you up with the rest of the youngsters.”
“Nope, I just avoid that part of town.” I giggled. It was nice to hear his voice and have him joke around. Dottie was so serious about everything these days that, sometimes, I felt guilty for smiling. “Are you getting excited about going to Paris? You’re only a couple weeks away.”
“Nervous. I can count on one hand the number of life-defining moments I’ve had, and this is definitely at the top of those. I don’t know what—”
The phone beeped, interrupting what he was saying. “Hang on just a second, Carp. Someone’s on the other line.” Before I could answer it, the call had gone to voicemail, but it wasn’t a number I recognized. “I guess I missed it. What were you saying?”
“Um, I don’t remember. Sorry, I’m kind of scatterbrained these days.”
Dottie burst through the door, her face streaked with tears. “Chelsea?” The moment she said my name, I sat up, and she saw I was on the phone.
“Carp, let me call you back. Something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I didn’t say goodbye or wait for him to, either. I terminated the call and stared at the woman falling apart in my doorway.
Standing quickly, I tossed my phone onto the bed. “What is it? Is it Mom?”
Her hands cupped her face, and when she nodded, long strands of gray hair surrounded her thin, delicate fingers.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t say a word.
I remained still, committing this moment to memory.
This was the time I’d learned my mother had died.
***
I’d never attended a funeral, much less been forced to plan one. It didn’t seem fair; she was too young to lose her life to such a cruel disease. I hated that there was no cure and that it was such a painful, degrading way to go. By the time she’d left us, she couldn’t talk, couldn’t control her motor functions, couldn’t swallow, and essentially, lived trapped in a body that refused to work.
I’d never be able to say with any certainty just how cognizant she’d been of anything going on around her or if she’d understood when I told her I was pregnant. I knew she’d kept my secret until her dying breath. I’d told her everything I could about James Carpenter: how we’d met, our laughable sexcapade on the beach, all the way to his undying love for Cora. She’d blinked rapidly when I told her about their fairy-tale romance. It may have been a reflex, but I believed she wanted their love story to work out as much as I did. I also believed she understood why I hadn’t told him about the baby. She’d made the same choice, even if my circumstances were a little different. She hadn’t wanted my father to lose his marriage.