The next day after dropping Chantelle at school, Daniel drove Emily to Harry and Amy's house before heading off to work. When Emily rang the doorbell, Amy answered, beaming from ear to ear.
"Ready?" Emily asked.
Amy's grin only widened. "You bet!"
Today Amy was having a bonanza shopping day, with appointments booked at potential wedding venues and several house viewings with real estate agents. And since Harry was working in the restaurant all day, Emily was on hand to offer support and words of wisdom. She was, of course, thrilled to be helping.
They got into Amy's white Chrysler and set off.
"Where's the first viewing?" Emily asked from the passenger seat.
"Eastern Road," Amy said, as she looked over her steering wheel for traffic. Seeing none, she turned onto the main street.
"Ooh," Emily said. "That's a nice part of town. The other side of the harbor to me, but still close."
"Especially in comparison to New York," Amy joked. "There's a brochure in the glove compartment. Take a look."
Emily reached inside and, finding the glossy folder, opened it up. She browsed through the slips of paper inside. Amongst the legal information and property details--three bedrooms, Emily noted with a knowing smile--she found a selection of photographs. The house looked gorgeous. If Harry and Amy were indeed planning to start their own family soon, this would be the place to do it! She smiled to herself, but then caught sight of the eye-wateringly huge asking price and almost choked.
"That one has an outside studio space," Amy informed Emily as she drove. "They're using it as an art studio at the moment but I'd turn it into an office. If I'm going to be working from home full time I'd like to have a separate space, you know?"
"Sure," Emily said, thinking of the downsides of living and working in the same space that she faced every day. "This place would be perfect for that."
They passed the harbor. It was a calm day, so Stuart, Evan and Clyde had gone over to the island to do their reno work. Emily felt very fortunate that the weather had been so mild. They definitely looked set to have everything finished for the April bookings. It was one less thing to worry about!
"Have you thought anymore about the babymoon?" Amy asked.
"Not really," Emily told her.
"You ought to go," Amy insisted. "You're almost out of time!" She nodded her head at Emily's ballooning stomach. Then she added, "There are some lovely hotels that do great babymoon packages."
Emily narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Have you been researching?"
Amy grinned devilishly. "Just a little. Look in the pocket behind your seat."
Rolling her eyes jovially, Emily leaned around behind her and found a stack of glossy magazines. She heaved them out. "A little?" she joked.
"Okay, maybe a lot," Amy confessed. "I just really want you to have a break! My favorite one is on the top there. The spa in Quebec."
Emily looked at the first of Amy's selection. Located in the old part of Quebec city, it looked more like a castle than a hotel.
"It's right in the old center of town," Amy said. "So there's loads of culture and stuff. City walls. A citadel. Museums galore."
"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Emily joked, raising an eyebrow.
Amy laughed. "Of course I do. When it's my turn, that is. But my focus right now is the wedding and the house. When it's babymoon time, I'll be heading there, I promise." She leaned over and tapped the top of the magazine.
Emily glanced down again at the stunning castle. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. The babymoon package including a special prenatal massage for the mom's to be and a stress busting massage for the dad's to be. Plus all the products were natural, with no harmful chemicals, and all the food was organic. It did seem idyllic. Doctor Arkwright would certainly approve of Emily reducing her stress levels. Better late than never!
"Daniel will probably come up with a very logical and practical reason why we shouldn't go," Emily said. She listed on her fingers. "Chantelle. The island. My impending due date. To name just a few." But she slipped the magazine in her purse anyway to show him later. Maybe she could convince him.
They pulled onto the drive of the first viewing. Emily loved it immediately. The outside lawn was large with a hedge for them extra privacy, and there was enough space for at least two cars to park outside. The house was even more pretty in real life. There was a cute porch out the front, not quite as grand as the inn's wraparound one, but there was space for a rocking chair and bistro table with chairs.
"I can already tell I'm going to love it," Emily said.
But Amy didn't look so convinced. "It's a bit underwhelming," she said.
"Are you crazy?" Emily gasped. "It looks like something from a movie!"
"Yes," Amy continued, in a distracted sort of voice. "A boring movie."
Emily rolled her eyes at Amy's perfectionism, but at the same time, she knew she shouldn't be so harsh. Amy's life had gone completely differently to Emily's. Her college dorm room business had succeeded and she'd bought her New York apartment while still in her early twenties. To Amy, home had always meant independence. Now it would mean domesticity. Emily had to admit that, for Amy's tastes, it was possibly a little too sensible. There was no elevator to negotiate, no traffic hum in the distance. In short, there was no challenge. If Amy was going to be happy in this new stage of her life, Emily realized, she was going to have to find an exceptional house, not just a lovely one.
*
After a long day of house viewing and wedding venue gazing, Emily needed a nap back at the inn. She was starting to get incredibly tired in these last few weeks of pregnancy, but knew that she'd just have to get used to it because when Baby Charlotte was born, it would only get worse!
She dozed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, taking the opportunity of an empty house to let the dogs sleep on the end of the bed--something that was usually forbidden. She perused the brochure for the Quebec spa, mulling over how she would spin the idea to Daniel. Then she remembered a promise she'd made Chantelle; to invite Papa Roy to Christmas.
She hadn't had the heart to tell Chantelle when she'd asked that her father hadn't been in contact for several days and that the voicemails she'd left for him had gone unanswered. In fact, she realized now, she hadn't had the heart to admit it to herself. She'd blanked it entirely, not wanting to even consider for a split second what it might mean; that her father had passed. Even now she refused to allow herself to truly consider it. He had Vladi, his close friend, to care for him, and she'd made the elderly Greek man promise to call if anything happened. She chose instead to believe that Roy was off on some adventure, having too much fun to notice the days ticking by.
She grabbed her laptop and wrote a quick email. The telephone approach was clearly not working, and even though he was far less responsive with emails, it seemed like a good idea to change tack.
Dear dad,
I called a couple of times but haven't heard back, which I assume means you're making the most of the Greek weather and boating with Vladi! Chantelle's been asking whether you'll come for Christmas. I know you made it clear that you didn't want to fly, especially not to somewhere as cold as Maine, but please do consider it. You know you're her favorite person in the world!
All my love,
Emily.
She hit send and realized her cheeks were wet with tears. She wiped them away.
As she put her laptop away, she heard the sound of the inn door closing. It was probably Lois coming to start her short shift on the reception desk, or Bryony to set herself up in her usual work station in the guest lounge and work on their winter advertisements. But then she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, heavy and fast, and recognized them as Daniel's immediately.
"Mogsy! Rain! Off the bed!" she said hurriedly, trying to shoo them away.
Too late. The door flew open.
"Hey honey!" Daniel cried, grinning from ear to ear.
"What are you doing home so early?" she asked, happily surprised but also guilty.
As if he hadn't a care in the world, Daniel waltzed in and sat on the end of the bed, idly petting Rain.
"Jack's in the woodshop this evening," he said as he ran his hand across her long ear. "We've had a huge order in for a fairy princess staircase for a bar mitzvah and, well you know Jack, any excuse to be at work rather than home."
"That whole retirement thing isn't really working out for him, is it?" Emily laughed, her gaze falling to the dog, then snapping back up to Daniel.
"Nope," Daniel chuckled in response.
Mogsy whined for attention, and he cupped her face in both his hands and kissed the dog on the crown of her head.
"Good thing you're opening your own shop soon," Emily said, still a little disconcerted that Daniel hadn't scolded her for letting the dogs on the bed. "Have you told him yet?"
"Not yet. But I honestly don't think he'll mind. It will give him an excuse to tell his wife that he has to go back to work. She might think of me as a villain for a while but Jack will probably be very grateful!"
"Please let's not be like that after thirty years of marriage."
Daniel chuckled. "No way. I can't see either of us ever retiring. Can you?"
"Good point," Emily said. She narrowed her eyes then, still unsure what was going no. "You're in a very good mood."
"Am I?"
"Yes. You haven't even mentioned the dogs on the bed."
Daniel startled then as if he hadn't even realized they were there. "Oh!" But he just shrugged. "It's time to collect Chantelle. Do you want me to do it? If you're not feeling so good?"
"No, no, I want to come," Emily replied. "Who knows how many school pickups I'll miss once Charlotte's born. Think of Suzanna and Baby Robin. I hardly ever see her these days. I want to make the most of things right now, as they are."
He helped her to her feet. Emily felt very groggy, like her nap had achieved nothing.
They headed downstairs, Daniel holding Emily's hand for her as she took careful steps. It was amazing how much more daunting it felt to negotiate a large staircase now that she was fit to burst. To think not that long ago she'd been trotting up and down these steps with ease! Now they looked very steep.
Outside the weather was even miler that it had been that morning.
"How was the trip with Amy?" Daniel asked as he helped her into her seat.
"Great. She didn't like any of the three gorgeous houses we saw now any of the extraordinary wedding venues. But, that reminds me, she's found this babymoon spa for us in Quebec. I know you probably won't want to go but maybe we could think about it."
"What's to think about?" he exclaimed. "Let's do it!"
Now Emily really was surprised. Usually Daniel took a bit of convincing. She'd clearly caught him in a great mood.
"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, only half joking.
"I'm feeling just fine," Daniel replied, laughing. "I'm just happy to have been given a little bit of extra time with my wife this evening, that's all."
"That's very sweet," Emily relied, touched that her presence could cause him such happiness. "So you really want to go on a babymoon?"
"Sure," he said, shrugging. "As long as Chantelle doesn't mind. Hey, how about we take her out on the boat this afternoon to soften the blow? It is 60 degrees after all!"
"I thought Clyde, Stu and Evan were working on the island today. Don't they have it?"
Daniel shook his head. "They're using the hire trawler today. They've taken it along the coast to Beals. There's a great building supply company there but the materials are far too heavy for the cuddy cabin. Which means it's free for us."
"In that case we'll have to," Emily agreed. She loved boat trips, too, and any chance to see the island was welcome considering the weather could turn at any moment. It did seem like a stroke of luck that the opportunity had presented itself. Emily would be a fool to turn it down!
They made it to the school, parking up in the lot before getting out the truck. A moment later the doors burst open and children hurried down the steps. Chantelle appeared, her eyes scanning the parking lot for Emily's car. But instead she found the pickup truck, and by her expression, it was clear that she was thrilled to see her father unexpectedly picking her up. She ran towards them.
"Daddy," Chantelle cried, barrelling into his open arms. "What are you doing here?"
"Taking my special girl on a boat trip to our island, that's what," Daniel said. "What do you say to that? Want to go on a boat trip?"
"YES!" Chantelle exclaimed, jumping up and down.
She quickly ran back to the playground to say goodbye to her friends, before bolting back to the truck and jumping in.
"Wow, that was quick," Emily commented. She patted her stomach. "I miss being able to run like that!"
"Poor mommy," Chantelle said. "Not too long now. She'll be here before Christmas. Ooh, that reminds me. Did you speak to Papa Roy about coming for Christmas?"
Emily felt a jolt of anguish in her chest. What was the best thing to tell the girl? She didn't want her to worry unnecessarily.
"I sent him an email," Emily told her. "But why don't we try to call him when we're on the island?"
Chantelle nodded and settled down for the rest of the journey to the harbor.
When they arrived, everything was very quiet. In spite of the calm weather, most people had already packed up their boats for the winter. It was only because of the island renovation work that Daniel's boat was still out at all. It had been a stroke of luck, or fate aligning, that meant they'd been able to sail it so regularly.
Daniel jumped down into the boat first, before helping Chantelle and Emily in. Then they set off, cutting through the sparkling water in the direction of the island.
"Chantelle," Emily said, addressing the girl. "How would you feel if daddy and I went on a weekend trip just the two of us?"
Chantelle hesitated, her lips twisting to the side in thought.
"You can be honest," Daniel added. "We want to know how you really feel. Because there have been some times before when you've said okay but it's actually made you very sad."
Emily thought of her previous meltdowns. She hoped Chantelle didn't feel attacked by Daniel's comments and understood they were coming from a place of concern and love.
"I suppose it depends on who babysits me," Chantelle said, thoughtfully.
"Who would you like?" Emily asked.
"I'm happiest when I have a sleepover with my friends," she explained, sounding more mature than ever. "With Bailey and Toby. And also I prefer it to be short. After two nights I start to get worried."
"Okay," Emily said, nodding, pleased with how well Chantelle was able to articulate her feelings and needs now. "So shall I see if I can arrange a sleepover with either Yvonne or Suzanna? And only stay away for the weekend?"
"I think that would be okay," Chantelle said with a nod.
To Emily's great amusement, Chantelle held her hand out to shake Emily's. Emily took her hand and gave it a hearty shake.
"Deal!"
Just then, they reached the island and Emily saw the trawler Daniel had mentioned moored beside the gorgeous new jetty. Even though it hadn't been a particularly long time since they'd last been here, Emily was still very excited to see the progress to the cabins. The main structures were now complete, and even some of the landscaping work had started. It was so exciting to see everything coming together. And a relief too, since their income at the moment was relying on the island! Stu, Clyde and Evan had really surpassed her expectations and the company Daniel had employed to manage the project really were fantastic.
"I'd better go and check in with the guys," Daniel said, looking in the direction of the sound of sawing and hammering. "See how it went today with that new building supplies company. I'll be back in a minute."
He went off towards the cabins.
Emily and Chantelle settled down on the rocks, looking out to sea. The water was calm today, and the sight of the Maine coastline looked very beautiful. It was a tranquil moment, a slice of peace within an otherwise hectic life.
"Can we call Papa Roy now?" Chantelle asked after a moment. "You know we haven't spoken to him in three days now."
So Chantelle had noticed, Emily realized. Of course she had. The child was extremely observant, and the fact that she and her father's daily calls had ceased had not gone unnoticed.
"Do you think he's okay?" Chantelle asked.
Emily felt a heaviness weigh on her shoulders.
"I think he is," she told Chantelle. "I just think he's slipped back into an old habit."
Though Roy had promised to stay in touch, Emily knew old habits died hard, and there were still times when her efforts would be met by radio silence from him. It stung just as much now as it had when she was younger, when his long, slow disengagement from the family had begun following Charlotte's death. He'd drifted away from her bit by bit then and as a scared, confused child she'd just let it happen. Not anymore. She had a right to her father, to demand him to be in her life, to share with him her life and expect to hear the same from him.
She took her cell phone out and dialled his number. She listened to it ring and ring. There was no answer. She tried again, aware of Chantelle watching pensively from the corner of her eye. Each new attempt she made to get in touch with him made her stomach twist with anguish. On the fifth attempt, she slung the phone down into her lap.
"Why won't he answer?" Chantelle asked, her voice sad and frightened.
Emily knew she had to put on a brave face for the child but it was a real struggle. "He's asleep a lot," she said, weakly.
"Not for three days straight," Chantelle replied. "He should check his phone when he wakes up and see he's missed your calls."
"He might not have thought to check," Emily told him, attempting a reassuring smile. "You know what he's like with technology."
But Chantelle was too smart for Emily's excuses and she didn't rise to her feeble attempt at humor. Her expression remained serious and sullen.
"Do you think he's died?" she asked.
"No!" Emily exclaimed, feeling anger take off the edge of her worry. "Why would you say such an awful thing?"
Chantelle seemed surprised by Emily's outburst. Her eyes were wide with shock.
"Because he's very ill," she said meekly. "I just meant…" Her voice faded away.
Emily took a breath to calm herself. "I'm sorry, Chantelle. I didn't mean to snap like that. I get very worried when I haven't heard from Papa Roy in a while and what you said would be my worst nightmare."
Roy. Alone. Dead in bed with no one beside him. She cringed at the thought, her heart clenching.
Chantelle looked tentatively at Emily. She seemed unsure of herself, as though she was treading on eggshells, worried that Emily would erupt at her again.
"But there's no way for us to know, is there? Whether he's still alive?"
Emily forced herself to be the grown up Chantelle needed her to be, even though each question stung like a fresh wound being sluiced. "We know he's alive because Vladi is taking care of him. And if Vladi hasn't called then nothing is wrong. That was the deal, remember?"
In her mind she conjured up the weather-beaten tanned face of Vladi, the Greek fisherman her father had struck up a friendship with. Vladi had promised to keep her informed of Roy's condition, even if Roy himself wanted his deterioration to be kept from her. Whether Vladi kept good on his promise was another thing, though. Who would he be more loyal too, anyway; her, a young woman he'd known for a few days, or his lifelong friend Roy?
"Mommy," Chantelle said softly. "You're crying."
Emily touched her cheek and found it was wet with tears. She wiped them with her sleeve.
"I'm scared," she told Chantelle. "That's why. I miss Papa Roy so much. I just wish we could convince him to be here with us."
"Me too," Chantelle said. "I want him and Nana Patty to live in the inn. It's sad that they're so far away."
Emily reached her arm around her daughter and held her tightly. She could hear Chantelle gently sobbing and felt awful for her part in the child's unhappiness. Crying in front of her was never the plan. But it some ways she wondered whether it helped Chantelle to see her mother's emotions, to see that it was okay to be weak sometimes, to be scared and worried. The child had spent so many years of her life having to be strong and brave, perhaps seeing her mom cry would show her it was okay to let go of control sometimes.
"Why do people have to die?" Chantelle said then, her voice muffled by the way her face was pressed into Emily's chest.
"Because…" Emily began, before pausing and thinking very deeply about it. "I think because their spirit has elsewhere to be."
"You mean Heaven?" Chantelle asked.
"It could be Heaven. It could be somewhere else entirely."
"Daddy doesn't believe in that," Chantelle said. "He says no one knows whether you go somewhere after you die, and that in Judaism it's up to God to decide whether you get an afterlife or not."
"That's what daddy believes," Emily told her. "But you can believe whatever you want to. I believe something different. And that's okay too."
Chantelle blinked through her wet eyelashes, her big blue eyes on Emily. "What do you believe?"
Emily paused and took a long time to formulate her answer. Finally she spoke. "I believe there is somewhere that we go to after we pass, not in our bodies, they stay here on earth, but our spirits rise up and go to the next place. When Papa Roy gets there he will be so, so happy." She smiled, comforted by her own beliefs. "There'll be no more pain for him at all or ever again."
"No pain at all?" Chantelle's sweet voice sang. "But what will it feel like?"
Emily pondered the question. "I think it will feel like that moment when you take a bite of your favorite food all the time."
Chantelle looked at her through her tearstained lashes and giggled. Emily continued.
"Like eating chocolate cake forever but never getting sick. Each bite just as great as the last. Or like that feeling you get when you step back from something you've been working on for months and see your accomplishment and realize that you made it."
"Like my clock?" the little girl asked.
Emily nodded. "Exactly. And it's the perfect kind of warm, like being in the jacuzzi at the spa."
"Does it smell of lavender like the spa?"
"Yes! And there are rainbows."
"What about animals?" Chantelle asked. "It wouldn't be any fun if there weren't any animals to pet and play with."
"If you think there should be animals," Emily told her, "Then there are animals."
Chantelle nodded. But her smile soon faded and she returned to her pensive expression. "That's just make believe though. We don't really know."
Emily hugged her tightly. "No. No one does. No one can. All we have is what we believe. What we choose to believe. And I believe that that is what's waiting for Papa Roy. And it's what your aunt Charlotte has, too. And she looks down at us whenever she wants to, and sends us little signs so we know she's thinking of us. Papa Roy will do the same when the time comes."
"I'll miss him," Chantelle said. "Even if he does go to somewhere warm and happy, I'll miss him being here."
For all her reassurances about the afterlife, Emily couldn't help what she felt deeply inside. That she would still be left alone, to live out her life without him. He would be gone from her forever and though for him it would be a wondrous step into the unknown, for her it would mean pain and loneliness and misery.
She squeezed Chantelle tightly.
"I'll miss him too."
