All heads turned from Avis to Jeff, as if waiting for him to say something in turn. But rather than speaking, he rose a single shoulder up in an easy shrug and lifted his wineglass as if to say I told you so. It was such a casual motion, so heartbreakingly gorgeous paired with his crooked half grin. He brought the glass to his lips and took a sip, and as though that drink had sealed some unspoken promise, the table erupted into jubilant cheers.
Sunnie and Robin rushed to Avis’s side with hugs and kisses, eager hands pressing against her stomach. But why isn’t anyone else pregnant? The question continued to spiral through her head. The boys moved toward Jeff, who was quick to receive manly hugs and handshakes. Why am I the only one? Clover and Gypsy murmured to each other, but their smiles were steadfast. Nobody made mention of the fact that Avis had slept with every man seated at that table, just as all the other girls had. There was an unspoken understanding: Jeffrey was the father. For some reason, there was no doubt about that in anyone’s mind.
“It’s a miracle.” She heard Robin say it to one of the other girls.
“I always knew she was the one,” Sunnie said.
“It’s perfect,” Lily chimed in.
“Bring life,” Robin whispered.
“Bring life.” The other two joined in. “Bring life, bring life, bring life.”
Avis remained in her seat, afraid to ask them about their quiet chant. She stayed where she was, feeling more unsure than ever before.
After dessert, she retired to the girls’ room while the others stayed downstairs. Because of his waning interest, the last thing she expected was for Jeff to join her. It seemed to her that over the past month, Jeff was far more interested in keeping Maggie and Eloise company than wasting his time on her. And so she was surprised to see him slip into the room and lean against the doorjamb with a sly sort of smile. He said nothing, so Avis broke the ice with a quiet confession.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know,” he said. “Just have faith. Love will be our salvation.”
She frowned, looked away. She could feel his expression fall.
“You’ve been unhappy lately,” he concluded. “Tell me why.”
Avis chewed her lip, tugged at her fingers, considered keeping her silence if only to keep the peace. Tell you why? Are you really that blind? She didn’t want to upset him, but it was the first time she felt as though she actually had some power. Having sat at the head of the table for a reason, she was the source of that evening’s joy. Perhaps now was the time to demand a few answers.
“Why wasn’t Maggie here tonight?” she asked, daring to glance up at him from behind stringy strands of hair.
“Is that what’s been bothering you?”
“You two look like lovers when Eloise is between you.”
Jeffrey leveled his gaze on her, then pushed away from the door to meet her next to the bed. The backs of Avis’s calves bumped the mattress as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “She isn’t one of us. I promise you that.”
“Then what is she to you?” Avis had no way of proving it, had no reason to suspect, but every bit of her intuition told her that Jeff and Maggie had slept together, just as Jeff had slept with all the other girls. And that would absolutely have initiated Maggie into their circle.
But you don’t know that, the voice whispered inside her head. You’re just jealous, and jealousy makes people angry. Unbalanced. Insane.
Unbalanced. That’s what the pills had been for. Pills that Jeff seized from her and poured into the kitchen sink, the toilet, the ocean, out the car window as they drove home from the clinic.
“Maggie is . . .” Jeff paused, considered his words. “She’s a protector, a mother. She has an innate need to take care of things, and we need a few things taken care of by someone outside the family.”
A mother. Avis clenched her teeth.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like things we’ll leave undone when we leave this place.”
Her face flushed hot. Leave? She thought that had been decided, thought it was clear that they were going to stay in Pier Pointe long-term. She shook her head, toeing the line of tears. They were going to leave her alone and pregnant. They were going to abandon her like the butt of a terrible joke.
“But the baby . . .”
“Avis . . .” Jeff began, but she didn’t want to hear it.
“Don’t call me that!” she yelled, pushing him away, moving for the door. “All you do is leave me out of everything!” He grabbed her by the wrist, wrenching it so that she either had to face him or break her arm.
“Avis,” he snapped, annunciating the name to hammer it home. It didn’t matter what she wanted. He’d call her by the name he’d given her. “Don’t be weak.” His eyes were hard.
“You slept with her!” It tumbled out of her like morning sickness. She tried to pull herself free, but he wouldn’t let go. The sobs came shortly after. She turned away from him, not wanting him to see her cry.
“Avis, stop it.” His tone was stern, his grip on her wrist fierce. When she failed to quit weeping, he twisted her arm behind her back and shoved her down onto the bed. She cried out in pain.
“You’re hurting me!”
“Good,” he said. “Pain is what you need to get your head on straight. Maybe I was wrong about you.” He twisted her arm harder, and she exhaled a clipped yelp. “Maybe you aren’t as strong as I thought. Maybe you aren’t meant to be part of this family after all, especially not as the mother of my child.”
Her head whipped around. She stared him in the face, ready to scream, to tell him to go to hell. If she wanted to be subjected to such abuse, she had two parents who would be happy to oblige. She didn’t need it coming from him.
But the moment she set eyes on him, her anger teetered toward helpless guilt. Not understanding how she could go from furious to culpable so quickly, Avis let out a wail. Perhaps Jeff was right. She wasn’t as strong as he had thought, as she had wanted to be; she needed those goddamn pills after all. Something about the way he was looking at her—the disappointment in his eyes?—was too much. She crumbled. He jerked her forward, crushing her against his chest.
“Hush,” he murmured into her hair. “It’s all right. Be strong. Trust me, Avis. You have to—”