The Wish(71)

“No one will be able to tell.”

She went back to cleaning mushrooms while I nibbled on one of the apple slices, which was exactly what my stomach needed. But it made me think…

“How bad is labor?” I asked. “I mean, I’ve heard so many horror stories.”

“That’s hard for me to answer. I’ve never given birth so I can’t speak from experience. And with the girls who stayed with us, I was only in the hospital room with a few of them. Gwen could probably give you a better answer since she’s a midwife, but from what I know, contractions aren’t pleasant. And yet, it’s not so terrible that women refuse to go through it again.”

That made sense, even if it didn’t really answer my question.

“Do you think I should hold the baby after I give birth?”

She took a few seconds to answer. “I can’t answer that, either.”

“What would you do?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

I picked up another wedge, nibbling on it, thinking, but was interrupted when I saw headlights flash through the windows and across the ceiling. Bryce’s truck, I thought with an unexpected burst of nervousness. Which was silly. I’d already spent half the day with him.

“Do you know where Bryce is taking me after dinner?”

“He told me today before you went to his house.”

“And?”

“Make sure you bring a jacket.”

I waited, but she added nothing else. “Are you mad at me for going out with him?”

“No.”

“But you don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“The real question is whether you think it’s a good idea.”

“We’re just friends,” I responded.

She said nothing, but then again, she didn’t have to. Because like me, I realized, she was nervous.

*



Confession time: This was my first real dinner date. Oh, I’d met a boy and some friends at a pizza parlor once, and the same boy had taken me to get ice cream, but other than that, I was pretty much a novice when it came to how to act or what I was supposed to say.

Fortunately, it took me all of two seconds to realize that Bryce hadn’t ever been on a dinner date, either, since he was acting even more nervous than I was, at least until we got to the restaurant. He’d splashed on an earthy-smelling cologne and he wore a button-up shirt, rolling the sleeves to his elbows, and—maybe because he knew my clothing options were limited—he was wearing jeans just like I was. The difference was that he could have strolled out of a magazine photo shoot, while I resembled a puffier version of the girl I wanted to be.

As for Howard’s Pub, it was pretty much as I expected, with wooden plank floors and walls decorated with pennants and license plates, and fronted by a crowded, boisterous bar. At the table, we picked up the menus, and less than a minute later, a waitress came by to take our drink orders. We both ordered sweet tea, probably making us the only two who hadn’t come for the pub part in the restaurant’s name.

“My mom says the crab cakes are good here,” Bryce remarked.

“Is that what you’re getting?”

“I’ll probably go with the ribs,” he said. “It’s what I always get.”

“Does your family come here often?”

“Once or twice a year. My parents come more often, whenever they need a break from us kids. Supposedly there are times when we can be a bit overwhelming.”

I smiled. “I’ve been thinking about that cemetery,” I commented. “I’m glad we didn’t take pictures.”

“I never do, mostly because of my grandfather. He was one of those merchant marines that the Bedfordshire was trying to protect.”

“Has he ever talked about the war?”

“Not much, other than to say it was the scariest time of his life. Not only because of the submarines, but also because of the storms in the North Atlantic. He’s been through hurricanes, but the waves in the North Atlantic were beyond terrifying. Of course, before the war, he’d never even set foot on the mainland, so pretty much everything was new to him.”

I tried and failed to imagine a life like that. In the silence, I felt the baby move—that watery pressure again—and my hand automatically went to my stomach.

“The baby?” he asked.

“She’s getting very active,” I said.

He set his menu aside. “I know it’s not my decision or even my business, but I’m glad you decided to put the baby up for adoption and not have an abortion.”

“My parents wouldn’t have let me. I suppose I could have gone to Planned Parenthood or whatever on my own, but the thought never crossed my mind. It’s a Catholic thing.”

“I meant that if you had, you never would have come to Ocracoke and I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”

“You wouldn’t have missed much.”

“I’m pretty sure that I would have missed everything.”

I felt a sudden heat at the back of my neck, but thankfully the waitress arrived with our drinks, rescuing me. We placed our orders—crab cakes for me, ribs for him—and while we sipped our tea, the conversation drifted toward easier, less blush-inducing topics. He described the many places around the United States and Europe he had lived; I related the conversation I’d had with Morgan—which mostly revolved around the stress she was under—and shared stories about Madison and Jodie and some of our girlhood adventures, which really centered around slumber parties and occasional makeup fiascoes. Strangely, I hadn’t thought about Madison or Jodie since the conversation with my mom when we’d walked on the beach. Had anyone suggested before I’d arrived here that they would slip my mind for even a day or two, I wouldn’t have believed them. Who, I wondered, was I becoming?