Willow Brook Road

“I just know my customers. I hear a lot of talk about carbs and dieting when you all are in here, but there’s not a morning that goes by that my tray of fresh croissants doesn’t magically disappear.”

After Sally left to get her croissant, Carrie glanced around the table and noted all the expectant looks. “So, what’s up?”

“Maybe you should tell us,” Bree suggested slyly. “Word on the family grapevine is that you had a little tiff with a man at the pub last night. Luke swears he saw sparks. He may be a lot of things, but he’s not usually attuned to those kind of undercurrents, so I’m guessing they had to be more like fireworks for him to notice.”

Carrie took a deep breath as she tried to avoid the sea of curious stares. She needed a strategy to get out of this conversation. She gazed at each woman intently, then began innocently, “Out of my deep respect for you as my elders...”

Before she could complete the sentence, her words drew the expected horrified gasps. She barely managed to contain a chuckle at their predictable reaction.

“And because of my deep understanding of what each of you went through with too much meddling in your lives,” she continued, then beamed at Bree, “I’m going to ignore that line of conversation.”

Heather was the first to recover. “Nicely played,” she said, a note of grudging approval in her voice.

“But we don’t have to like it,” Shanna added.

“And I’m gonna tell your mother you called us old,” Bree claimed, looking thoroughly disgruntled. “Since she’s older than any of us, I doubt she’ll appreciate it.”

Carrie laughed. “I didn’t call you old. I said you were my elders. That’s an undeniable truth. And I do respect each and every one of you. Be sure to tell Mom I said that, too.”

“So we’re not going to get a thing out of you about the man?” Heather asked, clearly disappointed.

“Nothing to tell,” Carrie insisted. “You could always ask Susie about him. The guy’s working for Mack at the paper. They’re bound to have crossed paths.”

All three women promptly looked dismayed. Carrie studied their faces, then asked, “What? Has something happened with Susie? I ran into her a couple of days ago. She seemed fine then.”

“You know she and Mack want a baby in the worst way,” Bree said.

“Sure,” Carrie said. “They finally decided to adopt. I thought Uncle Connor was trying to help with a private adoption through his old law firm in Baltimore. Susie was practically bursting with excitement when I saw her. She said the baby was due any minute.” A horrifying thought occurred to her. “Nothing happened to the baby, did it?”

“Not exactly,” Heather responded. “Not the way you mean.”

“Then what?” Carrie asked.

“Connor kept cautioning them that things could go wrong, but Susie was so sure this was it. If you saw her, you know how she was floating on air, making all these plans. And then, at the very last minute, the mother got together with her boyfriend and they decided to keep the baby.”

“Oh, no,” Carrie whispered.

“Susie’s devastated. Connor said the look on her face when he broke the news was something he hoped never to see again. Nothing Mack said or did could console her. She says she can’t go through that again.”

“She’s giving up?” Carrie asked, genuinely shocked. O’Briens didn’t give up that easily, not when something truly mattered as much as a baby mattered to Susie.

“That’s what she told Connor,” Heather confirmed. “Mack thinks she’ll come around once she gets over this latest disappointment, but I don’t know. I spoke to her last night for about two minutes. She sounded terrible, but the one thing she seemed certain about was her decision that this was it. I offered to go over so she could vent, but she said she wasn’t in the mood for company, that there was nothing more to be said, anyway.”

“And she’s not here this morning,” Shanna added. “The last time they got close and the adoption fell apart, she didn’t leave the house for a week. This time could be worse. She really thought a private adoption was the answer, a guarantee of some kind, despite all Connor’s warnings that things could go wrong.”

“She’d actually painted the nursery this time, because she knew it was going to be a girl,” Bree said. “I was over there just last week and she had drawers filled with frilly little outfits for the baby.”

“That’s so sad,” Carrie said, unable to imagine the depth of Susie’s disappointment. She’d been so brave all through her bout with ovarian cancer, even after finding out she’d never have children of her own. Now this.

“Is there anything I can do?” Carrie asked.

“She has to come to us,” Bree said. “She’ll do that when she’s ready. I’m hoping she’ll talk to Jess. For being such rivals when they were kids, they formed a really close bond during Susie’s cancer treatments. Maybe she’ll open up to her.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Carrie asked, not liking the idea of Susie going through this alone. Families were supposed to stick together in times of crisis, even when the person pushed them away. That was another of the lessons Nell had taught all of them.

“Then we’ll go to her in a few days,” Heather assured her. “You, too, if you want to come.” She sighed. “Although right now I have a new baby at home. I’m not sure how she feels about that. She says all the right things, but I’ve seen the stricken look on her face when she has to be around the baby.”

“So have I,” Shanna said. She and Carrie’s uncle Kevin had just had another child, as well. “She skipped the whole christening and the party afterward. She had an excuse, but it was pretty flimsy.”

“It must just about kill her to be around all these babies in our family,” Bree said. “But we can’t feel guilty about it. All we can do is try to be understanding and supportive.”

Carrie sat back in her seat and sighed, thinking of Sam and how he’d become a dad when he least expected it. Did he appreciate what a gift that was? Maybe in time he would, but right now there was little question that he was struggling with it. And there was Susie, desperate to hold a child of her own, but running out of options. Life sometimes truly was unfair. Nell would assure them all that God had a plan, but Carrie sure wished He’d let them all in on it.

* * *

Mack was at his wit’s end. Susie had been sitting on the deck of their home on Beach Lane for hours, staring out at the bay and clutching the handmade baby quilt she’d bought at Heather’s shop.

He’d known when she’d brought it home that the quilt was a bad idea and that painting the nursery and buying a boatload of baby clothes were even worse ideas, but Susie hadn’t been deterred. She’d believed with every fiber of her being that this time they were going to get their child, a daughter, according to Connor’s former associate in Baltimore, the lawyer handling the arrangements.

“Babe, come inside,” he begged. “You need some sleep.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“You were out here all night.” He knew because he’d awakened to an empty bed. He’d checked on her half a dozen times during the night, but she’d refused to come back to bed.

Heaving a resigned sigh, Mack brought his coffee and joined her on the deck, ignoring the look that told him she’d prefer to go right on being alone.

He set the coffee aside, then pulled his chair close enough to reach for her hand. Even though it was a warm morning, her hand was like ice and trembled in his, but at least she didn’t pull away.

Susie was the bravest, most courageous woman he’d ever known. He’d never seen her this defeated, not even when she’d been battling cancer and sickened by chemo and radiation. She’d had her share of down moments, her doubts about her future, but this was different. There was a steely resolve behind her decision to give up, one that left little room for argument or hope.

“I love you,” he told her, holding on tight, willing her to draw on his strength.

She turned and gave him a vague smile. “I know.”

“Are you ready to talk about this?”

Once again she shook her head. “What is there to talk about?”

“What we’re going to do next,” he suggested.

“Nothing,” she said flatly. “It’s over.”

“It’s only over if we give up.”

“Well, that’s what I’m doing. I’m giving up.” She turned and gave him an earnest look. “I can’t go through this again, Mack. Now I have some idea of how women feel after miscarriages. They carry this little baby inside of them, inside their hearts, even if only for a few weeks, and then it’s over. There’s no baby to hold.”

“The right baby will come along,” he insisted, though he knew no such thing. “Or we could look into an older child adoption. Think of all the children who need loving families, kids who’ve bounced around in foster care. We could open our hearts and our home to them. Maybe that’s what we’re meant to do.”