why she and Jack had chosen Maple Springs—close and yet far enough away. That and Jack had loved ice fishing and snowmobiling with Matthew during the off-season.
Annie had a hunch her in-laws were relieved they didn’t need to deal with her now that their son was gone. Another twist of fate. Becoming grandparents would no doubt bring their paths back together. Marie was bound to be impossible. She’d never approved of anything Annie did. Annie was a dancer. It didn’t matter that she’d been a professional ballerina, she might as well have come off the Vegas strip.
Tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks as she sat there, test still in hand. A knock at the front door made her jump.
“Annie?”
She stood at the sound of her friend, Ginger, coming inside. Annie blew her nose with a tissue and then threw the early pregnancy test into the powder-room trash can. Quickly, she washed her hands and left.
“I’m in the kitchen.” Annie peeked out of the window into her backyard. Early daffodils had burst to life after what seemed like years in the deep freeze of a hard northern Michigan winter.
She leaned against the deep porcelain sink she’d found at an antique sale with Jack after they’d bought this house. They’d taken their time remodeling it room by room. Except for the roof. Jack was planning to do that this summer with Matthew’s help.
Matthew...
The kiss they’d shared haunted her still. She might as well have a scarlet letter sewn across her heart reminding her how she’d betrayed Jack’s memory. Matthew’s embrace had been gentle when he awkwardly patted her back while she’d cried. The poor guy. Another poke to the heart from the needle that had stitched on that scarlet letter.
Her friend’s high-heeled footsteps clicked on the tiled floor. “You okay? I know Easter Sunday at church is hard, but when I called this morning and got your answering machine, I got worried.”
Annie sniffed. “I’m fine.”
Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. What’s going on?”
She felt the tears stinging her eyes again. She’d been so emotional lately and thought it was all about grief, until she threw up and counted backward.
Ginger reached out her hands.
Annie took them, swallowing hard. She had to get a grip, but it felt as if she walked in a dream, like after she’d gotten word of Jack’s death. In the weeks that had followed, she used to wander around in a daze. She’d often wake with a start, heart racing with fear before the pain came when reality hit that Jack was gone.
“I’m, ah...”
Ginger cocked her head. “Maybe you should sit down and tell me. You look a little flushed.”
Annie slumped into a chair and ran her finger along the grooves of her kitchen table. The burden didn’t feel quite so heavy when it sunk in that she was finally going to have a baby. Something Jack had wanted for so long. A dream she’d given up on long ago.
Hope swelled and her spirits lifted, only to be dashed again. Jack wouldn’t be there. He’d miss the birth of his own child.
Ginger touched her arm. “Annie?”
“I’m pregnant,” she choked out. “A couple months, if I’ve counted right.”
Ginger’s eyes widened. They were big, anyway, but right now her friend’s eyes reminded Annie of the brown speckled eggs she bought at the agricultural co-op a block over. “Oh, Annie, that’s wonderful.”
Annie ran her fingers through her hair, gripping it into a thick bundle at the nape of her neck. “Is it?”
“I’ll make tea.” Ginger went to the stove and grabbed the kettle. Once it was filled with water and settled over a high flame, she turned. “God’s given you a gift.”
A little late. She snorted. “Where was He five years ago with this gift?”
“Annie!” Ginger’s voice dipped low. “Have you told anyone?”
Annie shook her head. “I just found out this morning with one of those store-bought tests. I’ll wait until I see a doctor, to be sure.”
But pregnancy confirmed what was happening to her body. It wasn’t simply grief taking its toll. A new threat surfaced. One that scared her far more than raising a child alone. “I’m forty years old, Gin. What if I can’t carry this baby to term?”
Ginger smiled. “You will. You can do this.”
“I hope so.” That was an understatement.
Annie grabbed ceramic mugs from the cupboard. The teakettle’s whistle blew, piercing the air. She filled her silver tea ball with loose leaves and tossed it in the pot. Then poured in hot water and let the tea steep all while the challenges of the future ahead flashed through her mind.
Annie slumped back in her chair. “I never considered raising a baby on my own. But I’ve got Jack’s life insurance and the dance studio. I can bring a baby there, so I won’t need to pay for day care for a while at least. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”
If Annie repeated that a few times, would she eventually believe it?
“Don’t forget Jack’s parents.”
She gave her friend a sharp look. “I was trying to do just that.”
Ginger laughed. She knew all about Annie’s issues with her mother-in-law. “You know they’ll help.”
Annie looked at the pretty young woman who owned the shop where she bought her spices and loose tea and nodded. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
They went to the same church and had always been friendly, but Ginger had become a close friend after Jack died. After her aunt and sister returned to their homes in Arizona, Ginger had been the one holding out a safety ring when Annie thought she’d drown.
She still treaded water. Some days she’d slide under the waves and some days she’d float above them. With a baby on the way, she’d need to start floating way more than sinking. It’s what Jack would expect of her. He’d want her to be happy.
May
Matthew Zelinsky walked along the downtown streets of his hometown where cottages lined the small harbor dug into the shoreline of northern Lake Michigan. The month of May meant that summer homes were finally opened up with cheery flowers dripping from their window boxes. The same went for gift shops clustered on Main Street. Even though he’d grown up here in Maple Springs, Michigan, the beauty of the area was never lost on him.
Some things never changed. Others changed too much. He missed Jack, his captain and friend. The new captain—Wyatt Williams was his name—was okay, but it wasn’t the same. It’d never be the same again.
Matthew stepped out of the warm sunshine into the funky spice shop where Annie liked to buy her tea. The place was crowded. Summer residents had descended into the resort town a few days before Memorial Day weekend with its parade, craft fair and chicken BBQ.
Glancing at the line of big glass jars holding what looked like dried up weeds, he waited his turn. Was this the right thing to give a woman who regretted the kiss they’d shared?
Roses were out. Way too romantic. He was pretty sure Annie wanted none of that. She didn’t eat real chocolate, either, and he refused to buy carob. He wouldn’t know where to find the stuff. Chocolate implied romance, too, and he wasn’t sure that’s where he should go.
He had his regrets, as well. He wouldn’t walk out on Annie as he’d done at the funeral. He didn’t need to buy her anything but wanted Annie to know that this time, he’d be there if she needed him. Jack would want him to look out for her.
What would Jack think of him kissing his wife?
“Thou