I’d read that would happen, but not like this. Not overnight. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been paying close attention and they’d been growing without my being aware of it, but as I stood in front of the mirror, I thought I suddenly looked like a miniature Dolly Parton.
On the downside, I noticed that my once-small waist was already beginning to go the way of Atlantis. Examining myself from the side, I was both bigger and wider in the mirror. Though there was a scale in the bathroom, I couldn’t work up the courage to check how much weight I’d gained.
For the first time since Bryce had started tutoring me, I had the house to myself for most of the day. I probably should have used the quiet to catch up on homework, but I decided to go to the beach instead.
After bundling up, I found the bike beneath the house. I was a little wobbly as I got going—it had been a while—but got the hang of it within a few minutes. I pedaled slowly in the cold wind and when I reached the sand, I propped the bike against a post that indicated a walking path through the dunes.
It was pretty at the beach, even if it was entirely different from the coast in Washington. Where I was used to rocks and cliffs and angry waves shooting plumes of water, there was nothing but gentle swells and sand and sawgrass. No people, no palm trees, no shuttered lifeguard stands or homes with oceanfront views. As I walked the empty stretch of shoreline, it was easy to imagine that I was the first to have ever been there.
Alone with my thoughts, I tried to picture what my parents were doing. Or would be doing later, because it was still early there. I wondered whether Morgan would be practicing the violin—she did that a lot on Saturdays—or whether she’d go shopping at the mall for gifts. I wondered if they’d gotten the tree yet or if that was something they would do later today or tomorrow or even next weekend. I wondered what Madison and Jodie were up to, whether either of them had met a new guy, what movies they’d gone to see lately, or where—if anywhere—they were going for the holidays.
Yet, for the first time since I’d left Seattle, the thoughts didn’t make me ache with a sadness that felt overwhelming. Instead, I realized that it had been the right decision to come here. Don’t get me wrong—I still wished none of this had ever happened—but somehow I knew that my aunt Linda was exactly what I needed at this time in my life. She seemed to understand me in a way that my parents never had.
Maybe because, just like me, she always felt alone.
* * *
After I returned to the house, I showered and stuffed the things I would need for church in one of the duffel bags I’d brought from Seattle, then spent the rest of the day reading various chapters in my textbooks, still trying to catch up and hoping that some of the information would stick in my head long enough for me to be able to complete the homework without having to do the extra problems that Bryce would no doubt concoct.
Aunt Linda returned at two—Saturdays were shorter days at the shop—and made sure that I’d packed everything else I needed but had forgotten, from toothpaste to shampoo. Afterward, I helped her set up the nativity scene on the fireplace mantel. As we worked, I noticed for the first time that her eyes were the same as my dad’s.
“What are your plans tonight?” I asked. “Since you’ll have the place to yourself?”
“Gwen and I are going to have dinner,” she said. “We’ll play gin rummy afterwards.”
“That sounds relaxing.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a pleasant evening with Bryce and his family as well.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“We’ll see.” The way she said it while also averting her eyes made my next question automatic.
“Do you not want me to go?”
“You two have spent a lot of time together already this week.”
“Tutoring,” I said. “Because you thought I needed it.”
“I know,” she said. “And while I agreed that you could go, I do have concerns.”
“Why?”
She adjusted the figurines of Mary and Joseph before answering. “It’s sometimes easy for young people to…lose themselves in feelings of the heart.”
The words she’d used—both old-fashioned and nunlike—took me a few seconds to process, but I felt my eyes widen. “You think I’m going to fall for him?”
When she didn’t answer, I almost laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I went on. “I’m pregnant, remember? I have no interest in him at all.”
She sighed. “I wasn’t worried about you.”
* * *
Bryce showed up a few minutes after we’d finished decorating the mantel. Still a bit off-balance from my aunt’s comment but kissing her on the cheek anyway, I stepped out the door with my duffel bag while he was still ascending the steps.
“Hey there,” he said. Like me, he was dressed for a wintry night. The cool olive jacket had been replaced by a thick down coat like my own. “You ready? Can I take that for you?”
“It’s not heavy, but sure.”
After he grabbed the duffel, we waved goodbye to my aunt and made for his truck, the same one I’d seen on the ferry. Up close, it was bigger and taller than I remembered. He opened the passenger door for me, but it felt a bit like I was scaling a small mountain before I could finally crawl inside. He closed the door behind me and then got in from the other side, setting the duffel between us. Though the sky was clear, the temperature was already dropping. From the corner of my eye, I could see my aunt turn on the lights of the Christmas tree, which shone in the window, and for whatever reason, I suddenly thought back to the moment I’d first seen him and his dog on the ferry.
“I forgot to ask but is Daisy coming with us?”
Bryce shook his head. “No. I just dropped her off at my grandparents.”
“They didn’t want to come? Your grandparents, I mean?”
“They don’t like leaving the island unless they have to.” He smiled. “And by the way, my parents can’t wait to meet you.”
“Me too,” I said, hoping they wouldn’t ask the question, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The ride only took a few minutes; their house was in the same general area as my aunt’s shop, near the hotels and the ferry. Bryce pulled the truck into the drive, stopping next to a large white van, and I found myself peering at a home that initially struck me as the same as every other home in the village, except maybe a little larger and better maintained. As I was taking it in, the front door suddenly flew open and two young boys raced down the steps, jostling each other. I found my eyes flashing between them, thinking they were mirror images of each other.
“Richard and Robert, if you’ve forgotten,” he said.
“I’ll never be able to tell them apart.”
“They’re used to it. And they’ll mess with you because of it.”
“Mess with me how?”
“Robert’s in the red jacket. Richard is in the blue jacket. For now, anyway. But they might switch, so be prepared. Just remember that Richard has a tiny mole below his left eye.”
By then, the two of them had stopped near Bryce’s truck and were staring at us. Bryce grabbed my duffel and opened his door before climbing down. I did the same, feeling like I was falling before my feet finally hit the gravel. We met at the front of the truck.