“So when you ran away, the night of your bachelorette party?” Marie asked.
“I got in the car and started driving. That day at Johnny Harris, Pete told me he was staying on Cumberland, working on some project for the National Park Service. I didn’t have a plan. Not really. I told myself I was going to Loblolly just to hang out and give myself time to think. But that was a lie. I wasn’t running away from Harris. I was running to Pete.”
Brooke found her half-empty glass of wine and drained it.
“Of course, when I threw myself at him on Cumberland, he turned me down flat. Told me he didn’t want to be my rebound boy.”
At some point, Brooke got her phone and showed Marie the last photo she’d taken of Pete before he’d left for Alaska. It had been taken while they were kayaking on the river. He was bearded and bare-chested, laughing, the late-day sun making a halo around his shaggy, unkempt hair.
Marie peered down at the phone, enlarged the image, then tapped the photo with her index finger. “The freckles. That’s where they came from. I’ve always wondered.”
“It’s uncanny,” Brooke said. “Henry has the exact same number of freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks as his father. I know, because I counted them. While Pete was asleep. The morning after…” She blushed. “The morning after Henry was conceived.”
Marie didn’t seem shocked. “When did things change between you? I mean, you just told me he rejected you when you showed up on Cumberland Island after you called off the wedding.”
“We mutually agreed that we should take things slowly. The old ‘let’s just be friends’ kind of deal. I realized I wasn’t in any kind of shape to start a new relationship, I was trying to get my law practice up and running, and Pete’s a naturally cautious person. We were seeing each other casually, at least at first.”
“And then?”
Brooke twisted a strand of hair around her finger, avoiding her mother’s probing eyes.
“Pete had applied for this research grant to study elk migration patterns in the tundra. It meant living in this remote base camp in Alaska. That’s where he is, by the way. Alaska. It’s a three-year project. Out of nowhere, he told me he loved me and wanted to be with me. I guess that’s when it hit me that things had changed between us. We’d gotten serious when neither of us expected to. So … one thing led to another. Spontaneous combustion, you might say. And by spontaneous, I mean, I wasn’t on birth control.”
“Oh, Brooke.” Marie sighed.
“The next morning, Pete asked me to go with him.”
“And you said?”
Brooke shrugged. “I wasn’t very diplomatic. I mean, what was I going to do in the middle of the Alaskan tundra? Sue a moose? I drove him to the airport, and we talked about my flying out to see him at Christmas. Six weeks later, I figured out I was pregnant.”
“And you never told him? Never let him know he was going to be a father?”
“I wanted to. We were Skyping every other day, and he was so excited about being in Alaska. Everything was new and fascinating, and his work was really intense. He’d be out in the field, four or five days at a time, camping and tracking these radio-collared elk. I thought, if I tell Pete I’m pregnant, he’ll think he has to come back here to take care of me and the baby. It would mean giving up his grant.”
“Shouldn’t that have been his choice to make?”
“Maybe. But I was having doubts of my own. I loved Pete, but I didn’t want to be trapped into having a relationship just because of a baby. What if he did come back? And it turned out we weren’t actually good together?”
“That’s just a risk you have to take in a relationship,” Marie said. “In life. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“I’m not sure I agree with you,” Brooke said, suppressing a yawn. “Henry and I, we’re doing okay. It’s not easy. In fact, most of the time, being a single mom is terrifying. But I don’t regret it.” She met her mother’s steady gaze. “What about you, Mom? Any regrets?”
Marie stood slowly, then pulled Brooke to a standing position. “No. I don’t regret giving up my career to have time to raise my brilliant, gorgeous daughter. I don’t even regret marrying your dad. We had lots of good years, you know. I’d never give Patricia the power to take that away from me. The way I see it now, I got the better part of the deal. The man I married was young and fun, the adventurous and romantic Gordon. Look at him now. Yes, now he has more time and lots more money to spare, but Patricia’s got the cranky, high blood pressure, potbellied Gordon. I saw them across the room at a wedding at the Oglethorpe Club a couple of weeks ago, and he looked miserable. Patricia couldn’t even get him to go out on the dance floor.”
“The two of you used to dance all the time, especially at weddings and Christmas parties,” Brooke said. “When I was a teenager I thought it was sooooo gross. Parents dancing together!” She covered her eyes in mock horror.
Marie went into Henry’s nursery, fetched a stack of bed linens, and proceeded to make up a bed on the sofa.
“See you in the morning,” Brooke said, yawning and giving her mother a peck on the cheek. “I almost forgot. Were you planning on staying over Sunday night?”
“Yes. Why?”
“If you really don’t mind staying and watching Henry, I’m supposed to go up to Sea Island Sunday afternoon to meet with Gabe Wynant.”
“Really?” Marie arched an eyebrow.
“It’s about Josephine Warrick. I’m going to take her case on, after all. But I don’t know the first thing about condemnation law. So I called Gabe, and he’s agreed to meet with me and try to walk me through it.”
“That’s awfully nice of him,” Marie said. “It’s just a shame about poor Sunny. You’d think it might be a kind of relief, after all he went through with her, but I hear he’s really quite bereft.”
“Bereft? Did something happen to Sunny Wynant?”
“You didn’t know? She died.”
“No! I had no idea. What happened?”
“Liver cancer. She drank herself to death. I guess it’s been over a year ago now. Maybe two? I used to know her from altar guild, before she started drinking. She used to be so much fun. She had a really wicked sense of humor.” Marie shook her head. “Such a waste.”
“That’s terrible,” Brooke said. “But I’m glad you told me before I see him.”
“You say you decided to work for Josephine, after all?” Marie asked. “What changed your mind?”
“Josephine did. She just wouldn’t take no for an answer. And maybe, just maybe, I’m ready for a challenge.”
Brooke remembered the last conversation she’d had with the old lady.
“Mom? Did you know Granny was engaged to somebody else? Before Grandpop?”
“Hmm? Who told you that?”
“Josephine did. Her family threw an engagement party at Shellhaven for Granny and this man, but something awful happened, and the wedding got canceled.”
“Really? This is the first I’ve heard of such a thing. It’s hard for me to picture my mother with another man. She was so devoted to Pops. Did Josephine give you any more details than that?”
“No. She said the man, whoever he was, wasn’t a good person.”
“I’d definitely be interested in hearing more about this mystery man,” Marie said.
“You can ask Josephine all about it when you and the other two women meet with her over on Talisa.”
“You think she’s really serious? About leaving the island to the three of us?”
“She’s dead serious,” Brooke assured her.
18
October 1941
Josephine tapped loudly on the guest room door. “Millie? Are you all right?”
The muffled reply came a minute later. “I’m all right.” In another moment, the door opened slightly to reveal Millie, looking pale and exhausted, still wrapped in a bathrobe.
“It’s nearly noon!” Josephine exclaimed. “Your mother and grandmother just left on the boat for St. Ann’s.” She peered at Millie’s face. “You look terrible. Are you sick?”
“Maybe a little hungover. I don’t think champagne agrees with me.”