A Baby Between Them

“I’m dying to see you, Aidan. Why don’t you come for dinner tonight?”

He wanted to see Jennifer, too. But it sounded as though she had her hands full. He didn’t want her going to the work of preparing a meal for company. “How about I pick up some sandwiches in town and bring them over?”

“That would be great. I’ll make a few salads to go with them. Do you mind ordering enough for my dad and Aunt Annie, too?”

“No problem.”

“And why don’t you bring your friend Rae along, as well?”

He hadn’t said Rae was a friend. But before he could explain, the baby started squawking again, this time louder than before.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you and Rae later, Aidan. I can’t wait!”

JENNIFER WAS a naturally kind and hospitable person, so Aidan wasn’t surprised she’d extended an invitation to someone she’d never met. That didn’t mean he had to pass it on. However, if he didn’t, then he’d have to admit to Jennifer that he hadn’t, and then she would want to know why.

Aidan decided it would be easier to just invite Rae and let her say no.

He found her in the living room, feet up on the sofa, reading Forbes. He told her about the invitation. “Don’t feel as if you have to come.”

She amazed him by replying calmly, “That was very nice of Jennifer. Yes, I’d love to go.”

“You would?”

“Sure.” Her eyes betrayed nothing. No hint of the anger from earlier. No angst, no trauma, just…nothing.

“What time do you want to leave?” she asked.

“Half an hour,” Aidan said, giving her yet another reason to bow out. Not many women could get ready in that amount of time.

“Fine.”

True to her word, Rae was ready within thirty minutes. She’d combed her hair, put on a voluminous sundress and lipstick. She regarded her reflection in the full-length mirror of the foyer despondently. “I look like a puffer fish.”

She didn’t. She looked beautiful. It choked Aidan to admit it, but it was true. He’d never paid much attention to pregnant women before—he’d never had cause to. But despite her complaints, her insistence that she didn’t intend to keep the baby, there was an aura about her.

Rae grabbed her handbag, then waited while Aidan opened the door for her.

“Do you mind if I leave the top down?” he asked, as he helped her into the front seat of his car.

“It’s so hot—that would be nice.”

She needed a hand sitting down and he guessed she’d need help to get out, as well. He leaned down to find the lever to push the seat back and make more room for her bulk. Inadvertently, his shoulder brushed against her belly. It was surprisingly firm.

He stood up, embarrassed, yet oddly excited by the brief contact. That was his baby in there. And he’d touched her. It was still so incredible to him. Unbelievable and…amazing.

Wanting to touch again, yet knowing he couldn’t, he headed for the driver’s seat. As he reversed the car out of the driveway, Rae asked, “How far to your friend’s house?”

“Lavender Farm is on the north end of the island. About a thirty-minute drive.”

They stopped at the Cliffside Diner to pick up the packages of sandwiches that Aidan had ordered, then continued on the main road that circumnavigated the island.

Though paved, the route had many dangerous curves and the posted speed was low. Still, Rae’s long hair was whipped by the wind as Aidan accelerated. He leaned over to open the glove compartment and a navy silk scarf fell out.

“Use that.”

Rae gave him a questioning look, maybe wondering to whom the scarf belonged, then tied her hair back, as he’d suggested.

As the miles disappeared, Aidan began to relax. It was good to be on Summer Island again. The land to his left broke away to the ocean below with twenty-foot cliffs. The other side of the road was dotted with cultivated farmland and pastures that had been carved from the ancient rain forest. He slowed, in order to pass a small herd of cattle. A portion of the pasture fence had collapsed.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Rae said. “I’ve never seen such black cows before.”

“Those are Kerries, an extremely rare breed of dairy cattle. They don’t produce as much milk as a Jersey or a Holstein, but the taste is incredibly creamy.”

Rae was surprised by Aidan’s detailed answer. “How do you know so much about cows?”

“For a couple of summers I worked at that farm. Mr. Olsen ran his operation the old-fashioned way, and I milked the cows by hand.”

Aidan could still remember the smell of the barn, the feel of the cows’ bellies against his head as he crouched low to access the fat, warm teats. There’d been a knack to coaxing the milk out of those teats and he’d been damn proud when he finally heard the satisfying metallic resonance of milk streaming into the galvanized pail held steady between his legs.

“I can’t imagine you milking a cow.” Rae looked at him speculatively.

“I loved that job. We’d carry the pails into the kitchen and Mrs. Olsen would run the milk through the separator. Once a week she’d give me a bottle of cream to take home to my mother. It was so thick, Mom had to spoon it into her coffee. But boy did it taste great on a bowl of fresh blueberries.”

Rae was still looking at him as if he’d just explained that he came from another planet. “Where did you and your mother stay when you were on the island?”

“We used to own the house across from the Kincaid place.”

“The pumpkin-colored yoga studio?”

“It was white in those days.” Molly Springfield, the new owner, apparently liked bright colors.

From Justine, and Harrison’s sister, Nessa, Aidan had heard that the yoga business was thriving, which surprised him. When he’d been a kid, the majority of islanders were fishermen and farmers who resisted the trends and so-called progress of the twentieth century. But they had cell phone service here now, so he supposed a yoga studio had been inevitable.

“Tell me about Jennifer,” Rae said. “Have you known her a long time?”

“Pretty much since we were in diapers.”

“She’s one of Simone DeRosier’s original Forget-Me-Not friends, right?”

He grimaced. “You know about that?”

“Last summer that was all anyone at work wanted to talk about. Simone’s tragic death and how devastated all of the Forget-Me-Not friends were.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” The office grapevine worked well…except where he was concerned, obviously.

“Everyone was shocked when they found out Simone had been murdered. But it was never clear to me why it was assumed to be suicide in the first place.”

“Simone was found dead in a running car in her own garage. There was a letter with her that seemed to be a suicide note. It seemed pretty clear-cut at the time.”