The Wish(40)

When she didn’t answer, I almost laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I went on. “I’m pregnant, remember? I have no interest in him at all.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t worried about you.”

*



Bryce showed up a few minutes after we’d finished decorating the mantel. Still a bit off-balance from my aunt’s comment but kissing her on the cheek anyway, I stepped out the door with my duffel bag while he was still ascending the steps.

“Hey there,” he said. Like me, he was dressed for a wintry night. The cool olive jacket had been replaced by a thick down coat like my own. “You ready? Can I take that for you?”

“It’s not heavy, but sure.”

After he grabbed the duffel, we waved goodbye to my aunt and made for his truck, the same one I’d seen on the ferry. Up close, it was bigger and taller than I remembered. He opened the passenger door for me, but it felt a bit like I was scaling a small mountain before I could finally crawl inside. He closed the door behind me and then got in from the other side, setting the duffel between us. Though the sky was clear, the temperature was already dropping. From the corner of my eye, I could see my aunt turn on the lights of the Christmas tree, which shone in the window, and for whatever reason, I suddenly thought back to the moment I’d first seen him and his dog on the ferry.

“I forgot to ask but is Daisy coming with us?”

Bryce shook his head. “No. I just dropped her off at my grandparents.”

“They didn’t want to come? Your grandparents, I mean?”

“They don’t like leaving the island unless they have to.” He smiled. “And by the way, my parents can’t wait to meet you.”

“Me too,” I said, hoping they wouldn’t ask the question, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The ride only took a few minutes; their house was in the same general area as my aunt’s shop, near the hotels and the ferry. Bryce pulled the truck into the drive, stopping next to a large white van, and I found myself peering at a home that initially struck me as the same as every other home in the village, except maybe a little larger and better maintained. As I was taking it in, the front door suddenly flew open and two young boys raced down the steps, jostling each other. I found my eyes flashing between them, thinking they were mirror images of each other.

“Richard and Robert, if you’ve forgotten,” he said.

“I’ll never be able to tell them apart.”

“They’re used to it. And they’ll mess with you because of it.”

“Mess with me how?”

“Robert’s in the red jacket. Richard is in the blue jacket. For now, anyway. But they might switch, so be prepared. Just remember that Richard has a tiny mole below his left eye.”

By then, the two of them had stopped near Bryce’s truck and were staring at us. Bryce grabbed my duffel and opened his door before climbing down. I did the same, feeling like I was falling before my feet finally hit the gravel. We met at the front of the truck.

“Richard, Robert?” Bryce said. “This is Maggie.”

“Hi, Maggie,” they said in unison, their voices sounding both robotic and forced, machine-generated. Then, also in unison, they both tilted their heads to the left and when they went on, I knew it was an act. “It is a pleasure to meet you and to have the honor of your company this evening.”

Playing along, I gave the Star Trek salute. “Live long and prosper.”

They both giggled, and even though they were standing close and it was daytime, I couldn’t detect the mole. But (blue jacket) Richard leaned into (red jacket) Robert, who pushed Richard, who then punched Robert, and after that, Robert was chasing Richard, finally vanishing behind the house.

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement to my right, at ground level beneath the house. When I turned, I saw a youngish-looking woman in a wheelchair emerge, followed by a tall man with a crew cut who I assumed was Bryce’s father.

I’d seen people in wheelchairs, of course. There was a girl named Audrey in my third and fourth grade classes who was in a wheelchair, and Mr. Petrie—like my dad, a deacon at the church—used one, too. But I hadn’t expected his mom to be in one, if only because Bryce hadn’t said anything about it. He could mention that she’d been a pregnant teen but forget to tell me this?

Somehow, I was able to keep my expression friendly but neutral. The two of them approached as his mom called out, “R and R…in the van! Or we’ll leave without you!”

Seconds later, the brothers came roaring around the opposite side of the house from where I’d last seen them. Now (blue jacket) Richard was chasing (red jacket) Robert…

Or were they messing with me?

There was no way to tell.

“In the van!” Bryce’s dad shouted, and circling it once, the twins opened the side door and jumped inside, the van bouncing slightly.

Smart or not, they definitely had energy.

By then, Bryce’s parents had drawn closer and I could see the welcome on their faces. His mom’s jacket was even puffier than mine, and her auburn hair was offset by green eyes. His father, I noticed, stood ramrod straight, his black hair threaded with silver near his ears. Bryce’s mom held out her hand.

“Hi, Maggie,” she said with an easy grin. “I’m Janet Trickett, and this is my husband, Porter. I’m so glad you can join us.”