“That must have been so…” But his voice trails off as if he doesn’t know what word to choose, as if he doesn’t know what it must have been like, and he’s right. He doesn’t know.
“I was half out of my mind,” Tabitha says. “That’s an expression, but in my case, it was true. I was certifiably insane. All that mattered was my baby. I wanted him back in the hospital, but our insurance had run out, and Wyatt refused to let me take money from Eleanor. Plus, I mean, the baby was fine—not thriving, maybe, not fat or bouncing, but he was fine.” The tears start as Tabitha remembers Julian focusing his eyes and holding up his head. He had grabbed her finger. He never cried, not in the robust way of a newborn, anyway, and that had bothered Tabitha. He made a weak bleating noise when he was hungry or wet; that was all his little lungs—the size of eggs—could produce.
But the doctors had said he was out of the woods. How many times had that phrase been uttered? Out of the woods, like a child in a fairy tale, safe from bears, snakes, evil witches living in crooked houses. The doctors had also made it clear that there were no guarantees; every premature baby was at risk. And Julian had been slow to gain weight. At times he had been listless and difficult to feed. Tabitha had pumped breast milk night and day, believing that would keep him alive, even though Wyatt pointed out that he ate more when they gave him formula.
Wyatt had tried; Tabitha had to admit that. He had wanted to help both Julian and Tabitha. That was why, in the second week of August, when Julian seemed better and Tabitha was most definitely showing signs of a frayed psyche—crying all the time, dropping dishes, pulling her hair out in clumps—Wyatt had called Harper on the Vineyard, finally taking her up on her offer to help.
Wildflowers, champagne on the edge of the dock, their feet skimming the top of the water, dancing at the Chicken Box. I can’t live… with or without you.
Tabitha can’t go any further.
“He died,” she says. “August fifteenth, 2003. He was two months, two weeks, and five days old.”
Franklin lies down next to Tabitha but promptly passes out on top of the covers. For the first time, he snores, and she can’t fall asleep.
They don’t speak of it again. Tabitha wonders if Franklin remembers the conversation, but it isn’t anything she wants to revisit, especially not in the bright sunlight while they’re trying to renovate Billy’s house.
Even hungover, Franklin installs the new kitchen cabinets the next day and sets in the porcelain farmhouse sink. There are two Portuguese guys from Fall River—both named Paulo—sanding down the floors in the living and dining rooms, and a plumbing crew from Mashpee is upstairs redoing the master and second bathrooms. Tad is going to tile the master bath, but for right now he’s tearing out the carpet upstairs. As soon as the carpet is out, Tabitha will paint. She also goes out to get sandwiches for everyone from Lucky Hank’s, which costs her a hundred and ten dollars and takes ninety minutes because of traffic. But still, everything is good, she tells herself. Everything is fine.
That afternoon, Ainsley calls, and Tabitha is heartened. This is the first unsolicited phone call from her daughter since she’s left. Tabitha has no intention of bringing up the party at the store, but somehow the topic pops out of her, and once Tabitha gets started, she can’t stop. It’s almost as if she’s trying to sabotage her own happiness—because she makes Ainsley tell her whom Harper hired to replace Mary Jo.
Caylee. Harper hired Caylee.
No sooner has Tabitha had time to digest this fact—and, yes, a part of her is incensed, but part of her is thinking Caylee would be an asset to the store; even Eleanor might agree with that—than Harper calls, screaming like her head is on fire. She has found out that Tabitha is renovating instead of tearing the house down. She’s upset that Tabitha is turning Billy’s house into a civilized place where some family might live a life of happy refinement.
“Who’s working on it for you?” Harper asks after she’s gone on her rampage. “Who are you using as a contractor?”
Tabitha will not tell her. There is no way she’s going to let Harper interfere with what’s going on here. She hangs up.
Tomorrow a landscaping crew from Billerica is coming. They are going to mow the lawn and tear out all the overgrowth, the ugly bushes, the crooked pines, the vines, the weeds, and the sad little vegetable garden. They will sod and mulch, cut beds, plant hydrangeas and perennials. It will be Tabitha’s job to water, water, water. The landscaper grew up on the Vineyard and is a good friend of Franklin’s. His name is Richie Grennan, and he will be staying at Franklin’s house for the two days it will take to do the work.
“Richie and I played football together. He’s like a brother to me. I trust him with my life,” Franklin says.
Tabitha expects to like Richie, and she expects Richie to like her back. After all, they both love Franklin. Or if Richie doesn’t believe that Tabitha loves Franklin—their relationship being too new—she at least expects him to like her because she’s paying fifteen thousand dollars for him to do the work on the yard.
Richie is short and fair with a sunburn that ends at the collar and sleeves of his grass-stained T-shirt. He has bright blue eyes and no lips. He nods at Tabitha and says, “Howahyah?” His hands remain on his hips. He’s wearing khaki cargo shorts with a leather belt and work boots.
Tabitha smiles. “How are you?” she says with a touch of flirtatiousness. “I really appreciate your coming to do this—” She is interrupted by Franklin, who bounds past her and picks Richie up clear off the ground. Richie finally smiles, then Franklin asks if he wants to see the yard, and the three of them head back, with Tabitha trailing behind.
Maybe Richie doesn’t relate well to women, Tabitha thinks. Fine: she won’t get offended. She listens to Franklin explain to Richie exactly what they want. She doesn’t interject because Franklin is on point; he mentions everything they talked about in a logical order. He is her general contractor, so that’s his job. He is also her lover, but what does that matter to Richie?
Richie and his crew get to work. Tabitha goes to Skinny’s for sandwiches because Franklin mentioned that it used to be Richie’s favorite place. He likes the chicken Philly; Tabitha gets him two of them.
After lunch, Tabitha paints the small third bedroom a placid color called Saint Giles Green. Tad is tiling the master bath in honey-colored marble. Franklin is working with the stone guy in the kitchen. The countertops are oiled soapstone except for one section, which is butcher block. The plumbers from Mashpee have hooked up the Sub-Zero fridge and the stand-alone ice machine, and they have installed the fixtures over the farmhouse sink. The gas guy is due that afternoon to hook up the Wolf range—six burners and a griddle.