Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Spring break” at Whale Harbor Elementary came early enough in the year that New England parents knew they’d spend the week reminding their kids that, yes, it was called spring break, but since it was still only about thirty degrees outside, could they please put on their hats, coats, and mittens?

This year, however, the Turner-Reeves household would not be having that conversation…

Or, at least not more than once.

“Lucas,” Charity said, striving to keep her voice calm and patient. She wasn’t really annoyed with her son, not really, but getting two kids and a dog on the road for a long road trip was stressful . “Where is your coat?”

“In the car,” he replied, scrunching his nose like this was obvious.

Charity took a breath as she looked from where they were standing inside the front hall, across the lawn, still dusted with snow, to the car.

“Why is it in the car?” she asked.

Again, he looked at her like she wasn’t making a lick of sense. “Because we’re going on a road trip. We’re still going, right? I want to still go.”

“Yes, we’re still going,” she confirmed. His tiny shoulders slumped in relief. “But you are inside. And to get to the car, we need to go outside, where it’s cold. Weren’t you cold when you walked back to the house without your coat when you put the coat in the car?”

“Well, yeah.”

Some days, Charity thought, you couldn’t fight the chaos. You just had to roll with it.

“Okay, bud,” she said. “When it’s time to get in the car just… go fast, I guess. So you don’t get too cold while you’re out there.”

“Okay, Mom!” he said, beaming, all right with his world now that this problem was discharged. He bolted back into the house to gather the remainder of his belongings.

Charity glanced at her watch. It was eight-fifteen in the morning. She’d told herself they’d be on the road by eight, but if she was being honest with herself, she’d always known that was optimistic.

“Such is life with kids,” she said to herself with a light chuckle.

Indeed, several more “calamities” befell them before they were ready to hit the road. Addie couldn’t find her favorite hair bow and dissolved into tears before Dominic intervened to report that he’d already packed it and then double-checked that they had it. Next, Lucas couldn’t find a shoe.

“Why is it always shoes?” Charity had asked her son with good humor while they searched.

“I think they hide, Mom,” he’d said with total sincerity. In the end, she wondered if he was right. What other explanation was there for finding the sole sneaker on Addie’s bookshelf?

There was also one last false start when they all got in the car, seat belts fastened, kids armed with snacks and coloring books and toys for the road. Dominic was just about to put the car into reverse when Addie’s voice piped up.

“Uh, Daddy? I think Milo has to go.”

The adults had leapt into action, getting the dog out of the car so that he could take care of his business on the lawn and not in the back seat.

The couple leaned against the side of the car while they waited for the four-legged member of their family to be ready.

“Still glad we had this road trip idea?” Charity joked when Dominic leaned his head back against the car for a moment, looking a little overwhelmed.

As soon as she spoke though, a grin flashed across his face.

“You bet your life, Charity soon-to-be Reeves.”

They’d discussed changing names as a family. It had been Lucas who was most vocal about wanting them all to be Reeves, since, to him, Dominic was his dad, and Turner wasn’t a name he felt much attachment to.

“This is going to be the best adventure we’ve ever taken,” Dominic added.

She smiled and snuggled against his side. “I’ll keep that in mind when we start hearing ‘how much longer?’ and ‘are we there yet?’”

He laughed. “Want to make a bet? I say we first hear it before we hit the Rhode Island state line.”

“I’ll be happy if we make it out of Whale Harbor,” she quipped back.

After a few minutes spent scuffling in the thin layer of frost, Milo indicated that he was ready to jump back into his place in the back seat. Charity and Dominic let him in, then crossed to their own spots in the front of the vehicle.

With the kids occupied with their road trip entertainment, Dominic took a moment to lean in and steal a kiss.

“Hey, Char?”

“Yeah?”

His smile made her heart swell. “Thanks for having this idea. It’s absolutely perfect. I can’t wait to marry you, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. This isn’t just about us—it’s about our whole family.” His eyes crinkled. “Even the ones that make it so hard to get going in the mornings.”

She chuckled and snuck in one more kiss. “You’re right,” she said. “Even with all the chaos, it’s perfect.”

With that, they finally got the car into gear and pulled out of their driveway. They were paused at the stop sign leading on to Main Street, Seastar Espresso barely visible in the distance, when Lucas spoke up.

“Hey, Mom, Dad? How much driving are we going to do today?”

“Yeah,” Addie added. “How much longer?”

Charity and Dominic looked at one another before dissolving into helpless laughter.

“We’re not stressed,” Darla told Scout, who was sitting with her head perched on Darla’s knee. “We’re calm. We’re cool. It’s all good.”

Scout gave her a look that said she did not believe her mother, not one bit.

It had been a few days since her first IVF embryo transfer. The doctor had advised avoiding anything overly strenuous for the first day or so, but to otherwise keep up with her general habits of taking good care of herself.

“And try not to stress,” she’d reassured Darla, placing a friendly hand lightly on her shoulder. “I know it’s easier said than done, but all it will do is make the time go more slowly until it’s time to see if implantation is successful.”

To her credit, Darla had tried. The first day, she’d done a pretty good job, even, distracting herself with her favorite movies and lovingly bugging Marty to send more pictures and videos of baby Trevor.

The second day, she’d spent the day with Rick, just hanging out, playing some board games, cooking dinner together.

Today though, Rick had returned to the Marine Center and Darla wasn’t due to go back to the museum until tomorrow, having scheduled herself a few extra days to rest, just in case she needed them.

“I might have overshot how much resting I could do without stressing,” Darla confided in Scout. “I might be obsessing the teeniest, tiniest bit.”

That was a bit of an understatement. She had, after all, caught herself looking at her stomach several times already today, as if she could see from the outside whether or not this round of IVF would end up with her dreams coming true. In addition to her emotional upheaval, she faced an abundance of hormones surging through her system. This made every emotion feel twice as heightened in a way that reminded her of her dramatic teen years.

It was, she had to admit, not her favorite part of the whole experience thus far.

“Being patient is the worst!” she groused, because if you couldn’t admit your deepest thoughts to your own dog, who could you tell them to?

Despite Scout’s unyielding support, Darla was very excited when her phone chimed with a text from Monica.

MONICA: Day one million of being pregnant: I am still pregnant. Will I be pregnant forever? Probably.

DARLA: Ooh, let’s swap. You be not pregnant anymore and I’ll START being pregnant!

MONICA: Genius, let’s do it. Who do we talk to about this?

DARLA: Hm, good question. We could write a sternly worded letter, but I kind of think your baby can’t read yet.

MONICA: I don’t know, they’ve been in there for so long that maybe they’ve learned a lot of things!

MONICA: Anyway, if this was not already clear, I am going nuts over here. Tell me about life on the outside, because it takes me twenty minutes to get off the couch now. Is it beautiful? Is it as good as I remember?

DARLA: You know, it’s funny, because I was also just feeling kind of stir-crazy. Sorry if that feels like I’m rubbing it in.

MONICA: Actually, no, it feels like we’re in it together. Thanks, pal!

DARLA: What’s the countdown to your due date now?

MONICA: Four days. The other day, I was at the grocery store and saw Ellen and Bodie Radford. Ellen took one look at me and said, “Any day now, huh?”

MONICA: Tragically, my baby has not yet taken this to heart.

MONICA: Ellen looked super embarrassed, like she hadn’t meant for that to come out, but I told her that she was exactly right—that’s how I feel all the time! Any day now!! We all laughed, but still, the baby did not come out.

DARLA: So what I’m hearing is… you’re ready for the baby to come out.

MONICA: Nah, they can stay as long as they want.

MONICA: Just kidding, baby! Oh my gosh, what if they CAN read, and they only decided to read that one message, and now I’ll be pregnant forever?

DARLA: Lol! Sending good vibes for birthday energy your way!

MONICA: Thank you. I guess I’ll take a nap, since lying down is basically the only thing I can do these days, and I’ve heard a rumor that you don’t get a lot of sleep once the baby gets here.

DARLA: Have a nice nap! Call me later if you need anything, or if you just need someone to chat with. We can watch a bad movie together over the phone like we’re in middle school.

MONICA: Yes! That sounds amazing. Thanks!

The smile lingered on Darla’s face after the lengthy text chat with her friend.

“I guess it’s true that the grass is always greener on the other side,” she told Scout. Monica was ready to be done with pregnancy, while Darla was hoping to get started with hers… although she didn’t think Marty was longing for any part of pregnancy except for maybe the part where she had gotten more sleep.

“We can all agree that holding the baby in your arms is best,” she said.

Then, deciding she’d done more than enough talking to a dog for the day, she hauled herself off the couch and took herself into her studio to paint. That had always helped her work through her feelings, ever since she was small, and she’d double-checked with her IVF doctor to ensure that she had paints that weren’t in any way dangerous to a pregnant woman.

Scout had not immediately gotten off the couch when Darla moved, preferring her snuggly spot, but Darla had barely gotten her brushes and paint together when Scout wandered into the room to curl up on the dog bed they kept in the studio. With her dog at her feet and a paintbrush in her hands, Darla let herself get lost in the act of creating.

Immediately, she realized this had been a good idea. There was something about painting that made her feelings become more manageable, as if they worked through her instead of getting trapped and snarled inside her. She let her mind wander, and her hand move however felt right, moving through dreamy blues and purples, letting her anxiety and worries poke through in bright flashes of yellow and orange, swirling through to represent her hopes and vision for the future in bright, optimistic green.

She realized she’d lost track of time entirely when she heard Rick’s voice behind her.

“Wow,” he said, awe in his tone. “Sweetheart, that one is amazing. ”

Blinking, Darla let her hand drop and took in her painting in its entirety for the first time. It was impressive, if she did say so herself, the colors expressive, the message somehow clear despite the abstract nature of the painting.

“Yeah,” she said quietly as he came up behind her to wrap his arms around her. “I think I like it.”

“It’s a keeper,” he confirmed. “And you know where I think we should hang it? In the baby’s room.”

His hand dropped down to lightly touch her lower stomach, where maybe their future child was starting, even now, to grow. They both hoped so, and, after losing herself in her art for a while, Darla found she felt more optimistic about the possibility.

“Yeah,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around Rick’s to pull herself even more tightly into his embrace. “I think I’d really like that.”