“Didn’t you get my texts?”
Texts? When was the last time Rachel had even seen her cell phone? She honestly couldn’t remember. It was a vestigial organ from her distant life in LA. It served no purpose here. People didn’t text; they walked over and said hi. Or you met at Joe as part of a routine. Or you ran into them at the Canteen or at the beach. And she hadn’t thought of anyone from the outside world. Provincetown had become her world—she just hadn’t realized how completely until that moment.
“No. I didn’t,” she said.
“Sean and I are doing the Love Yoga Fest in Cape Cod. I took a detour to see you.”
“You came all the way east for a yoga festival?”
“It’s a big one.”
Was her mother just looking for an excuse to check on her? Was she being motherly after all?
“Did you stop in Philly to see Nana?”
“On the way back. Maybe.” She stood up and held out her arms. “Give me a hug, kiddo.”
Rachel walked into her mother’s embrace, willing herself to be happy for the visit but feeling mostly uncomfortable.
“So are you staying in town? Is your boyfriend here too?” Rachel asked.
“He’s seeing friends on the Cape. I thought I’d just drop by for the afternoon and drive back after dinner, but it took me a pretty long time to get here. I’m reconsidering. Is there room for me to crash here?”
“Not really,” Rachel said quickly. “But you’re welcome to have dinner here. I’m having a few other people over.”
“Very cool. Do I get to meet the grandmother you told me about? How’s that going?”
“She’s actually away.”
“But you’re still here?”
“Yes. I’m helping out around the place. It’s a long story.”
Fran walked to the front door, looking out at the porch. “It’s a gorgeous day. Why don’t you show me the beach?”
Rachel tried to imagine herself and her mother biking over to Herring Cove, finding a spot on the beach, and just sitting quietly in the sun. When was the last time they’d spent an afternoon together? What would they talk about? Rachel could try to tell her about all that had happened in the past month, but did Fran really care? Or would she just wait for a conversational opening to jump in about her latest boy toy, as was her typical MO? Rachel didn’t have the time or patience to find out.
“I can’t right now. I have to shop for dinner.”
“We can pick that up on the way back.”
“I’m cooking, Fran. It’s going to take most of the afternoon.”
“Since when do you cook?”
“Since my grandmother showed me how.”
Fran gave her an odd smile. “Well, that’s great. Glad your little vacation has been worth it.”
It’s not a vacation, Rachel thought. Vacations come to an end. And that’s when she admitted to herself that she had no intention of leaving.
The paternity testing was painless. At least, physically.
Marin and Julian showed up at the lab with the testing kits, had their blood drawn, and signed all the paperwork. Now there was nothing left for them to do but wait.
“I’ll be back in nine days,” Julian said, kissing Marin good-bye next to his parked car.
Nine days. That’s when the results would show up in the mail. Nine days, and then Julian had the excuse he needed to walk away for good. She felt like saying, Why bother coming back? Did she really want to open the envelope in front of him, like the Academy Awards of genetics? But when she suggested she just call him, he wouldn’t hear of it. “We need to get the news together.”
Okay. Whatever.
By the time his car pulled away, swallowed up in the pre-weekend traffic of Commercial Street, her mood plummeted. Forget about it, she told herself. Put him out of your mind for now.
Back at the house, Marin planned to head straight to her room and close the door for a few hours, if not the entire rest of the day. But she couldn’t make a break for it because Rachel was in the living room talking to an aging hippie with long hair and a deep tan wearing a tie-dyed romper.
Had Rachel lost her mind and opened the inn to more guests?
“Marin—hey. Come here for a sec.”
Rachel introduced the woman as her mother.
Looking at the two of them next to each other, she could see it. Their jawlines, the shape of their noses. The mother’s hair was threaded with gray but cascaded down her back just like Rachel’s. Their style was similar, though where Rachel was boho chic, the mother was mostly boho.
“Nice to meet you,” Marin said.
Fran squinted her eyes and looked back and forth between them. “So is there a resemblance? I don’t see it. Are you sure you’re related?”
“Yes,” Rachel and Marin said in unison. Rachel shook her head, clearly irritated.
“How long are you in town for?” Marin asked politely.
“Just until after dinner. Rachel invited me to her little fiesta.”
Marin looked at Rachel, who explained she was cooking dinner at the house and had invited Luke, Thomas, and Bart. “I figured you and Julian would be here so…it will be a fun night.”
“Julian went back to New York,” Marin said.
Fran yawned. “Well, I’ll leave you girls to figure out dinner. I’m going to get some sun.” She consulted her phone for directions to the beach, then left with a jaunty wave.
“Fuck,” Rachel said.
“You had no idea she was coming?”
“None.”
“Well, it’s nice. She must miss you.”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s weird. She always goes away for weeks and weeks at a time. Now she suddenly misses me? Maybe she just doesn’t like the role reversal.”
The screen door flapped open and closed, and they turned to see Amelia dragging her bag into the house.
“You’re back!” Rachel said, a smile taking over her face.
“We’re back,” Amelia said. Marin could see the hollows under her eyes. Kelly, a few steps behind her, looked thinner than she had just three days ago. Her stomach churned with worry.
“How’s everything going here?” Kelly asked, notably breathless.
“Great! The Millers have been so cool, and everything is running smoothly. They’re leaving in the morning, so perfect timing.”
Rachel prattled on about what she’d been cooking, about some cheese she’d made, and about the Millers’ comings and goings, all the while oblivious to Amelia’s distracted expression and Kelly’s evident exhaustion.
Marin realized that her sister had not been clued in to what was going on with Kelly.
“I’m sure they want to unpack,” Marin interrupted. Amelia cast her a grateful smile. Marin helped them get their bags upstairs, and when Amelia used the bathroom, she was shocked to find Kelly leaning on the dresser.
“Are you in pain? What’s going on?”
“I feel like shit.”