Purling Road - the Complete Second Season: Episodes 1-10 (11 page)

***

After calling it an early day due to a very seasick tourist, Aryl came home. Jac lay sprawled on the blanket near the corner where he played until he dropped.

Claire looked up and smiled. “You’re home early,” she said quietly as she gestured to Jac and rose to greet him with a kiss.

“Had to. It was getting too gusty out there. I’m not complaining.” He winced as he arched. “I wrenched my back.” Though he grinned, she could tell he was in pain.

“Get cleaned up and I’ll work it out,” she said with a huff, teasing as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world.

She couldn’t spare any cooking oil and didn’t want to use lard being so hard to wash off. That and she didn’t like the smell of it. She decided to use some of her precious facial moisturizer.

Aryl lay face down on the bed.

“I really appreciate this,” came a muffled voice from the pillow.

She smacked her hands together and rubbed. “If I use up enough of my moisturizer on your back, you’ll have to buy me more. There’s a new brand I read about in Arianna’s magazine that I’d love to try.”

“I see your true motive,” he said, turning his head.

“Yes. In the meantime, your back will have a youthful, radiant glow.”

He snorted. 

She put the heels of her hand to the small of his back, pressed and went up his spine slowly. He groaned as if he were dying. She gripped the meat of his shoulders close to his neck, squeezed and lifted.

“Shh!” she said, giggling. “You know what that sounds like? Jac might hear you.”

“He’s out cold downstairs. He can’t hear a thing.” He lifted his head and raised his eyebrows in suggestion. She swatted his bottom and he rolled his eyes in mock ecstasy.

“Do that again.”

“I’ll do that and more if you don’t lie down,” she said, pushing his face back into the pillow and began kneading deeply.

***

A second full moon had come and gone. Claire sat at the table staring at the calendar. It was Tuesday, but Claire didn’t care about that. She tuned out Jac’s wailing in the background. He thrashed across the living room chanting, “Mommy-mommy-mommy-mommy!” Breaking in with the occasional guttural scream. All this over not getting a second cookie.

Her eyes were fixed on a date two weeks ago. The end of May. She put a shaking hand to her head, holding it, sighing deeply. The other hand went to her stomach. While there were no signs there was a child, proof there wasn’t was nowhere to be seen. She’d never longed for the bloat and cramps more in her life.

She looked over her shoulder at Jac. He stopped and stared at her. “Cookie?”

“I told you no, Jac,” she said wearily.

The stomping and crying resumed. The child had more energy for one fit than she could gather for an entire week.

Aryl had recovered from his broken arm. Her father’s idea for the guided tours was working out better than they could have hoped and things between them were starting to feel more relaxed, more…normal. And now this.

“I just can’t be,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I can’t.”

Aryl would be home soon. She wouldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until she was certain.

A small wooden car flew and hit her in the back of the head. She threw her chair back, marched into the living room, and took Jac’s arm. Swatting him on the bottom twice, she pulled him across the room and thrust him into the corner.

“You do not throw things at mommy! Stay right there!”

He cried, but obeyed.

Claire sank onto the couch and started crying herself. Feeling overly emotional, exhausted, and realizing she desperately wanted to eat raw carrots, she broke into hopeless sobs that silenced Jac. With the tables turned, he stared at her. He moved from the corner, watching carefully that she wasn’t going to spring up and swat him. Even slower, he made his way across the living room until he stood by her leg. Slowly, so she wouldn’t notice, he crawled up onto the couch and then onto her lap.

***

“Ruth is in town,” Aryl said as he peeled off his shirt and began searching for a clean one in the closet. “She said she’d stop by tomorrow to see you. I think she has more work for you locally.”

“Work is good. Local is even better. How long is she here for?”

“The summer, I suppose. She bought that big house on the beach, remember? She’s overseeing some remodeling.”

“Is she moving here permanently?” Claire asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“She didn’t say explicitly, but it sure sounds like it.” He shrugged. “She offered Jonathan and me some extra work on Sunday at the place.”

“Doing what?”

He lifted one shoulder and then shook out a buttoned shirt. “Labor.”

She frowned. “You work too hard.”

“No such thing.” He faced her, working up the buttons. “Actually, I think doing the tours is making me soft.”

She pursed her lips against a grin, admiring the shoulders beneath the fabric. “No such thing,” she said teasing.

“You, however, are working too hard. You’re losing weight.”

She opened her mouth to argue.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he said, moving toward her. “Things aren’t so tight right now. Buy more meat. And sweet treats. That’s an order.”

She smiled self-consciously. “I’m fine, Aryl.”

He touched her cheek that lacked color and then traced below her eye, ringed darker than usual. “You’re not. I can tell. Why don’t you go see the doctor and get something to help you sleep?”

She stiffened. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” They had a way of talking about sensitive subjects without ever bringing them up by name.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured.

“It’s not worth the risk.”

“I do have some self-control, you know.”

“I know,” she said, casting her eyes down, fingering a fold in her skirt. “But why bring temptation into the house.”

“At some point, you’re going to have to start trusting me.”

“I do trust you, Aryl.” She sounded anything but convincing.

“Then go to the doctor.”

She rolled her eyes up to look at him. “It’s an extra expense.”

“We’re okay right now.”

“Right now,” she said softly. Who knew what the future held, always one hiccup away from disaster.

***

Ruth had a driver pick all of them up. They were surprised at the invite to lunch and tea. Arianna dressed as if it were a royal gala. Claire and Ava wore light summer dresses, Ava’s blue, Claire’s pink. 

The invitation begged them to bring their children as she had a nanny who would be happy to look after the bunch, and it would double as a play date for Mahni.

With Jean and Eddie in school, it left only the small ones, which were handful enough on the short ride.

They knew of the house that Ruth had purchased but had never been to it. Curiosity was piqued, and they craned their necks as they got closer. Located a few miles out of town, it was a massive, three-story, stone house right on the ocean.

“The man that owned this house,” Arianna started, “same thing happened to him that happened to us. All this was his one day, the bank’s the next.”

“Where did he go?”

Arianna nodded toward the ocean. “For a long swim.”

Claire shuddered. “I thought that was just a rumor.”

“No. True fact. Walked right out into the water, started swimming, and no one ever saw him again. His wife and son had to move to Florida to live with her family. They say,”—she leaned closer and lowered her voice—“he walks the beach behind his house, watching over it.”

“Oh, please,” Ava said.

“Oh, please nothing,” Arianna said, adjusting Felicity on her lap. “You might not believe in ghosts, but Claire and I do. We’ve seen them.”

“You have not seen them,” Ava said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, we’ve seen of them.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Luckily, they came to a stop along the half circle drive, and the driver opened the door before they could dig deeper into a catty argument.

They stepped out and looked around. It hadn’t been terribly neglected, the usual things you’d expect when a house sat empty and alone for nearly two years. The yard was overgrown, full of weeds, dying grass, and out of control bushes. A small army of handymen wandered about like ants, and there was the echo of hammering coming from inside.

Ruth opened the door and met them on the porch.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, ushering them all inside, grinning and touching each child as they passed. “I apologize for the construction. I hope it won’t bother you too much. I just really couldn’t wait to see you girls again and make plans together.”

“Make plans?” Ava asked.

Ruth closed the door and whirled around. “Yes. For a party!” she said, clasping her hands. Arianna’s eyes lit up. “I was hoping you all could help plan a grand party this summer. You know, whom to invite, what to serve, the theme, the music…that sort of thing. Arianna, I hear you are quite the party planner. I would especially like your help. And Claire, I have so much work for you, you’ll hate me before it’s over.”

Ava dropped her eyes. She had no obvious talent, and she was painfully aware of that now. With a tight smile, she looked up bravely and found Ruth staring at her.

“And Ava. I would sincerely appreciate your help decorating. Not just for the party, but all of it. Every room. I’ve always envied your style and would appreciate your guidance. I have a table of catalogs and fabric swaths and am utterly lost.”

Ava dropped the tight smile, replacing it with a sincere one. She knew Ruth was being truthful, not only had Jonathan adored everything she had done in their old house and their new, he had told her so himself that he thought Ruth envied Ava’s eye when it came to subtle elegance.

“I’d love to,” she said.

“Well, let’s not stand around the foyer all day. The nanny is waiting upstairs.” She turned to lead the way. “I’m afraid the only room not in complete disarray is the dining room.” Her voice echoed up the wide, winding staircase. “But I do have a truckload of pastries waiting for us.”

***

“Mrs. Sullivan.” Dr. Nicholas Foley strode in with long steps and his professional, yet charming smile. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said, smiling nervously. She sat on the edge of the exam table, clutching her purse, looking as if she were ready to run at any moment.

“What can I help you with today?”

Dr. Foley looked her over as he sat down and waited for her to explain the reason for her visit.

“Well,” Claire said, wringing the handle of her purse, “it was my husband’s suggestion that I come.”

Dr. Foley’s brow knit. “And why is that?”

“I’ve been tired. Not sleeping well.” She pointed casually to the dark circles under her eyes. “And he says I’m losing weight.”

“Have you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose my clothes are a bit looser, but I’m eating about as well as anyone else.”

“I see. Have you had any sickness of the stomach or intestines lately?”

She shook her head.

“Everyone else in the house well?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have children, Mrs. Sullivan?”

“One son.”

“How old?”

“Sixteen months.”

“Ah.” He smiled. “That is reason enough for a tired mother. But we’ll make sure there’s nothing else going on.” He stood and went to the sink to wash his hands. “Is there any chance you could be pregnant, Mrs. Sullivan?”

He heard nothing, and after a few seconds, looked over his shoulder just as Claire began to sob. There was no warming up to it. Within seconds, she was full-on wailing right there in Dr. Foley’s office. She was trying to talk, but it was a garbled mess, all her words getting lost in her heaves and gasps.

It wasn’t funny, not in the least. Still, Dr. Foley had to fight to keep a straight face. If he’d had a dime for every time he’d encountered this, he could retire early.

“There, there, Mrs. Sullivan.” He pulled his stool over and sat down, patting her arm, nodding at her incoherent rambling. When she settled down to just erratic breathing and the occasional hiccup, he handed her a handkerchief.

“Th-thank you,” she said, sucking in a breath and blowing it out slowly.

“You’re welcome. Now. I’m going to take a guess that it wouldn’t be the happiest news in the world if you were to find yourself pregnant?” He smiled gently.

She shook her head. “Even if we could afford it, which we can’t, my son is…challenging. He runs from morning to night, rarely sleeps, is always getting into mischief, breaking things, throwing things. I don’t get a moment’s peace. I couldn’t take care of another child even if I wanted to. And what if the next one was just like him? What if I had two Jac’s?” She looked up in horror.