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Authors: Diane Chamberlain
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on Jamie’s desk. “It’s strange, seeing you here in an office,” I said. “Seeing you look human.”
He laughed. “I’m very human,” he said. “That’s all I am. All I want to be. A good human.”
“I…” I wanted to tell him what my few visits to the chapel had meant to me. I knew I would be going back, with or without Steve. I looked down at Maggie, whose long-lashed eyes were now closed, the lids twitching a little as if she was dreaming. “I don’t know how to explain to you how I feel in your chapel,” I said, raising my gaze to him again. “I’m not religious, so it’s strange. It’s hard to put into words.”
“It’s bigger than words?” he suggested.
I nodded.
“Oh, Sara,” he said. “Welcome to my world.”
Jamie and Laurel lived in a round cottage called the Sea Tender, right on the beach. I didn’t want to feel envy when I walked inside the cottage and took in the ocean view from the living-room windows, yet how could I help it? Clearly, the Lockwoods had money, something I doubted I’d ever have myself.
“Oh, this is fabulous!” I said as Jamie led me through the room to the sofa, Maggie sleeping against his chest. He’d asked me to stop by to “reconnect with Laurel,” since I’d be helping out with the baby. “Have a seat,” he said. He handed Maggie to me. “I’ll let Laurel know you’re here.”
I settled down on the sofa, the sleeping baby on my knees. A few minutes later, Laurel walked into the room. She moved slowly, as though her legs were made of concrete, and I honestly wasn’t certain I would have recognized her. Her hair was long and stringy and dull, her eyes lifeless. Her face was not pale as much as jaundiced, like a tan that was fading in uneven patches. She wore a yellow robe that needed a good washing.
Seeing her, I felt deep concern that the pretty woman from the chapel had been replaced by a ghost. I could see that she had a long recovery ahead of her. Maggie’s delivery must have been horrendous.
“You have a gorgeous baby.” I lowered my eyes to Maggie to hide my shock at Laurel’s appearance.
“Thank you.” Laurel sat down in a rocking chair.
Jamie brought me a glass of iced tea I knew I wouldn’t touch. It would be sweet, no doubt. That Southern abomination.
“You two remember each other, of course,” Jamie said as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.
“Of course,” I said. “Your house is beautiful, Laurel.”
“Thanks.”
“I…Jamie and I thought I should meet with you to see if you have any special instructions about Maggie.”
Laurel shrugged as though she didn’t really care how I took care of her daughter. “Just don’t kill her,” she said.
“Laurel!” Jamie said.
My body must have jerked at Laurel’s words because Maggie started to whimper.
“Shh, honey.” I tightened the blanket around the baby, wondering if Laurel could possibly know about Sam. Who could have told her? I was afraid to look up. I didn’t want to meet her eyes.
Laurel laughed, breaking the tension in the room. “You know what I mean,” she said.
“Well, okay.” I attempted a laugh myself. “I think I can manage that.”
Jamie had a tiny office in the chapel, and that’s where I spent most of my time with Maggie because Laurel didn’t want me in the house.
“It’s not you,” Jamie reassured me. “It’s anyone right now. She’s too tired to have someone around.”
Or the baby around, I thought. It was unspoken between us, but Jamie and I both knew there was something more going on with Laurel than tiredness. Laurel wanted Maggie out of the house. Out of her sight.
The chapel had electricity and Jamie installed a small refrigerator and a hot plate in the little office so I could heat Maggie’sformula. There was also an old-fashioned wooden cradle and a lightweight stroller. I spent my days there with Maggie, reading and teaching myself to knit when I wasn’t feeding, cuddling or changing diapers. I
He laughed. “I’m very human,” he said. “That’s all I am. All I want to be. A good human.”
“I…” I wanted to tell him what my few visits to the chapel had meant to me. I knew I would be going back, with or without Steve. I looked down at Maggie, whose long-lashed eyes were now closed, the lids twitching a little as if she was dreaming. “I don’t know how to explain to you how I feel in your chapel,” I said, raising my gaze to him again. “I’m not religious, so it’s strange. It’s hard to put into words.”
“It’s bigger than words?” he suggested.
I nodded.
“Oh, Sara,” he said. “Welcome to my world.”
Jamie and Laurel lived in a round cottage called the Sea Tender, right on the beach. I didn’t want to feel envy when I walked inside the cottage and took in the ocean view from the living-room windows, yet how could I help it? Clearly, the Lockwoods had money, something I doubted I’d ever have myself.
“Oh, this is fabulous!” I said as Jamie led me through the room to the sofa, Maggie sleeping against his chest. He’d asked me to stop by to “reconnect with Laurel,” since I’d be helping out with the baby. “Have a seat,” he said. He handed Maggie to me. “I’ll let Laurel know you’re here.”
I settled down on the sofa, the sleeping baby on my knees. A few minutes later, Laurel walked into the room. She moved slowly, as though her legs were made of concrete, and I honestly wasn’t certain I would have recognized her. Her hair was long and stringy and dull, her eyes lifeless. Her face was not pale as much as jaundiced, like a tan that was fading in uneven patches. She wore a yellow robe that needed a good washing.
Seeing her, I felt deep concern that the pretty woman from the chapel had been replaced by a ghost. I could see that she had a long recovery ahead of her. Maggie’s delivery must have been horrendous.
“You have a gorgeous baby.” I lowered my eyes to Maggie to hide my shock at Laurel’s appearance.
“Thank you.” Laurel sat down in a rocking chair.
Jamie brought me a glass of iced tea I knew I wouldn’t touch. It would be sweet, no doubt. That Southern abomination.
“You two remember each other, of course,” Jamie said as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.
“Of course,” I said. “Your house is beautiful, Laurel.”
“Thanks.”
“I…Jamie and I thought I should meet with you to see if you have any special instructions about Maggie.”
Laurel shrugged as though she didn’t really care how I took care of her daughter. “Just don’t kill her,” she said.
“Laurel!” Jamie said.
My body must have jerked at Laurel’s words because Maggie started to whimper.
“Shh, honey.” I tightened the blanket around the baby, wondering if Laurel could possibly know about Sam. Who could have told her? I was afraid to look up. I didn’t want to meet her eyes.
Laurel laughed, breaking the tension in the room. “You know what I mean,” she said.
“Well, okay.” I attempted a laugh myself. “I think I can manage that.”
Jamie had a tiny office in the chapel, and that’s where I spent most of my time with Maggie because Laurel didn’t want me in the house.
“It’s not you,” Jamie reassured me. “It’s anyone right now. She’s too tired to have someone around.”
Or the baby around, I thought. It was unspoken between us, but Jamie and I both knew there was something more going on with Laurel than tiredness. Laurel wanted Maggie out of the house. Out of her sight.
The chapel had electricity and Jamie installed a small refrigerator and a hot plate in the little office so I could heat Maggie’sformula. There was also an old-fashioned wooden cradle and a lightweight stroller. I spent my days there with Maggie, reading and teaching myself to knit when I wasn’t feeding, cuddling or changing diapers. I
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