I kissed her cheek and told her how much I loved her before I left. Each visit became progressively harder; she’d lost weight living on a liquid diet, and her eyes were tired—not sleepy, but weary. I felt like I should offer her permission to let go; however, selfishly, I wasn’t there yet. I wanted to hold on for another day, another week, another year. There would never come a point where I could open the gate to eternity for her. I’d always need her, and not even Dottie could take her place.

Dottie waited for me to say goodbye just outside the room. It had become our routine. She always gave me time alone with my mom. She did it in case it was the last time I got to see her. And while I refused to believe the door closing behind me could take my mother with it, I appreciated her consideration all the same.

I hadn’t let my mom see me cry—she couldn’t console me, so the tears seemed selfish. But as I left today, Dottie took me in her arms and kissed my temple. I didn’t have to tell her I was scared—she could see it written all over my face—and I couldn’t hide the way my body shook before the sobs began. There in the hall, with people passing us without a glance, my heart finally acknowledged what my brain had known my entire life.

My mother was going to die.

Soon.

With her arm wrapped around my waist, Dottie led me back outside. “How about a walk before we drive home?” It was about an hour drive from here back to Geneva Key, and sitting in a car for that length of time in the shape I was in would make for a difficult night.

“If you don’t mind. Curling up on mom’s bed for hours makes me stiff, and the sunshine will do me good.”

“Sweetheart, there is nothing I’d rather do than spend time with you.”

She dropped her hold on my waist to take my hand. Somehow, it didn’t seem strange to walk around the path down to the pond just outside the facility with our fingers laced. Maybe it was our age difference or that my heart was so heavy I needed to feel tied to something that wouldn’t allow me to sink into an abyss. Either way, the warmth of her touch lightened my mood and tipped my lips into a meager smile.

“Do you remember when the three of us went to New York? You couldn’t have been more than four or five years old.” We did a lot of reminiscing these days; Dottie was either determined to ensure I recalled things from my childhood or she tried to keep them fresh in her own mind.

“I remember going to Central Park and my mom begging me to ride in the horse-drawn carriage.”

“And you were scared of the horses running off if someone scared them. When she gave up and realized you weren’t going to budge, she decided to stroll through the park on foot.”

“There were people everywhere. It wasn’t anything like the parks I’d been to. There wasn’t a playground or a sandbox—everything was green for as far as I could see.”

“We must have walked a hundred miles that day. Your mom and I kept thinking you’d get tired. But you were relentless. We didn’t leave until the sun started to set, because the fear of the dark was scarier than the appeal of the adventure.”

I hadn’t thought about that trip in years and had forgotten Dottie was the one who’d taken us there. She always came up with the best things to do. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but her adventures were more extravagant because money had never been an issue. My mom’s were always fun, regardless of the fact we were on a tighter budget. And even though we didn’t have financial freedom, I never wanted for anything.

She stopped walking and faced me to take my other hand. “Your mom’s adventure is ending. This time, you can’t be afraid of the dark.”

I stared into her baby-blue eyes. Dottie hurt as much as I did, yet she was determined to get me through this. I couldn’t speak. Everything she said was true. So I gave her a weak nod, and we walked back to the car. The ride home was quiet—neither of us even turned on the radio. Trees and billboards and cars passed by; however, nothing drew my attention away from my confused thoughts. I should’ve been able to prepare for this, but nothing readied a child to lose their only parent.

When we arrived home, she followed me into the house. I didn’t stop in the kitchen for coffee like I normally did. I needed some time alone, time to think. The best place for me to do that was behind the closed door of my bedroom where I was free to release emotion.

“Chelsea?”

I turned suddenly, lost in my thoughts, to acknowledge Dottie. Before I caught a glimpse of her, the sound of glass breaking drew my attention to the clatter. In my haste to steady myself before falling, I reached out to grab the end table and sent the vase flying. My ass hit the floor with a hollow thud, and shooting pain resonated up my arm. With tears welling in my eyes, I jerked my hand to my face to pick out the little shards that had lodged themselves in my skin upon impact. My cheeks were wet as the droplets fell to my palm, mixing into little crimson pools.

“Oh, sweetheart, are you all right?” Dottie asked as she squatted next to me. She took my hand in hers to look at my wounds.

I was fine. My ego was bruised, but the little nicks were superficial. I nodded and looked around at the damage I’d done. The vase broke into several large chunks, and I’d shattered a picture frame that contained the only image of her and her teenage son that I’d ever seen. The edges of the glass created gouges in the photo paper, covering the image of his face in scratches that hadn’t been there before. Carefully brushing the debris away, I held it up.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Shh, it’s fine. I can get another frame.” But she couldn’t get another picture. There weren’t many of him around, and she kept this one close enough to see regularly. This one was special.

I’d never known her son. All the pictures she had were of him as a child through maybe sixteen or seventeen. I’d asked my mom once what had happened to him, and she told me that was Dottie’s story to tell, and then encouraged me not to ask. It was the only time I remembered seeing my mother sad, as though she grieved the loss, too.

“But the picture’s ruined,” I blubbered, desperate for a tissue to blow my nose.

“Chelsea, yes…I love the photo. However, my memories aren’t contained on that piece of paper. And now there’s another layer of value on it, anyway. Every time I see it, I’ll think of you being here…with fondness.”

I looked into her eyes and chanced the question I’d never dared to ask. “How did you go on after you lost him?”

Dottie let out a long sigh and sat on the ground next to me. She picked up a large piece of broken ceramic and used it as a cup to collect the others. “It was a slow progression. By the time he passed away, he was already gone. I struggled with regret for a lot of years, but I couldn’t change any of it. I made mistakes, and I wasn’t the best mother I could’ve been. I loved him, although looking back, probably not in the right way. Finally, I realized I had to let go in order to keep living.”

The same look I’d seen on my mother’s face the day I asked her about the boy in the pictures showed on Dottie’s face today. Her grief was just below the surface, and I could tell it was a wound that never healed. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense.” She patted me on the knee and stood. “Let me help you up. You need to get some tweezers and make sure you don’t leave any glass behind.”

I took her offered hand, though I didn’t let her exert any force and pushed myself off the floor. Dottie cupped my face and wiped the tears away with her thumbs.

“You’re going to be okay.”

I let her words sink in like a promise—even though it was one she couldn’t keep.

***

I’d seen the missed call and listened to the voicemail from Carp the night I came back from seeing my mom. However, after the vase and picture frame incident, Dottie had spent an hour picking glass out of my palm because I was unable to keep the tweezers steady. My nerves were shot, and I was exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and chase the day away with sleep.

Then I’d worked three days in a row for the catering company doing different gigs and hadn’t gotten around to it. We’d texted a few times, but Carp had been busy with work since he’d gotten back to New York and a phone call just hadn’t happened. Still, I’d thought of him and wondered how things fared with his plight to win Cora back.

The phone rang three times, and just when I expected the voicemail to pick up, he answered, clearly winded. “Hello?”

“Hey, Carp.” I tried to keep my voice sounding optimistic. It took effort not to let the circumstances with my mom take over.

“Hey, Chelsea. I wondered if we’d ever actually connect.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I was down the hall in Neil’s office and had to race to get my phone.”

“You’re at work at eight o’clock?”

“The work days keep getting longer. My dad’s clients are far more time-consuming than those we had in-house…just because we’re learning them. We’ve had a couple interviews, but so far, we haven’t hired anyone to help with the additional load.”

“Yikes. That makes for some long days.”

“It keeps me out of trouble.” If he’d been in front of me, I swear a wink would have followed that statement. “What have you been up to?”

“I’ve worked the last few days doing parties around town. And Dottie and I went to see my mom.”

“Yeah? How’s she doing?”

“Not great. But thanks for asking. Did you call Cora?” I needed to change the subject quickly before I succumbed to the emotions.

“I can’t believe you remembered her name.”

“Yeah, well, having a guy cry on the shore about another girl after having sex with you is kind of memorable. It’d be hard to forget her name.” I giggled, hoping he could tell I was just giving him a hard time. “My ego took quite the hit that night. It could be years before I recover.”

“Wow.” He laughed through the word, and the sound barreled through the receiver. It was hearty and playful, and there was no doubt he’d gotten my intention. “Way to make a guy feel like a schmuck.”

“You can make it up to me by living out an amazing second-chance romance. One that authors and producers fight over owning the rights to. So spill it, have you guys talked?”

I didn’t know this girl and likely never would, but he’d been so enamored with her when we talked on the beach in Geneva Key, that I found myself rooting for them. When things in my life were so uncertain, it made me happy to listen to a hopeless romantic talk about the woman he loved. And Carp was in love with Cora.

“We have. A couple times, actually. Right now, I think we’re rebuilding the friendship. Plus, hearing her voice again gives me hope.”

“Has she said any more about coming back when her contract is up?”

“She’s unhappy there, but she won’t commit to anything. I haven’t pushed it. Yet.” The determination in his voice was clear, and I grinned believing he’d get the girl. Carp just seemed like that type of guy. “Oh, she asked me to come to Paris.”

Why he hadn’t led with that baffled me. It was far more interesting than hearing about a budding friendship for people who’d been lovers for years. “Really?” I was almost as excited as I would have been if it were me crossing the pond. “When are you going?”

“I’m not sure. The timing is horrible. With the increase in business, I can’t leave right now. Neil and I have to get someone trained before I can consider taking off for any length of time.”

“Don’t wait, Carp.” I thought about my mom and what I’d give to have more time with her. “There’s nothing in your office that won’t be there when you get back. Make people your priority, not money.” It was easy for me to spout off crap about life lessons. I wasn’t a business owner—hell, I could barely even say I had a job. And I certainly didn’t have anyone other than my mom and Dottie to worry about.

“I’m going to go as soon as I can. I just don’t have anything set in stone. I’ll keep you posted, promise.” He probably thought I was an idiot for insisting he chase down another woman after our one night. “What about you?”

I was confused. Either I’d missed something Carp had said, or I was lost. “What about me?”

“Picked up any more lonely guys at dinner parties and seduced them on the beach?”

“Har, har, har. I hope you don’t think that’s something I do regularly.” I rolled my eyes.

Carp’s opinion shouldn’t matter. He lived in another state. And if he was passing judgment, it was rather hypocritical since he’d been the one naked in the sand with me.

“More power to you if you do…just play it safe. Women should have just as much freedom sexually as men do. Although, be careful about who in Geneva Key knows—the old people there can be kind of critical.”

“Does anyone under the age of fifty live in this town?” I didn’t go out much. Other than the grocery store and to work, I stayed close to home. Even though the island was small, I didn’t chance getting lost; not to mention, everything I needed was already here, and those that weren’t could be ordered on Amazon.

His laughter wasn’t encouraging. “Yeah, but they aren’t legal. There’s a black hole from eighteen to forty-nine. Even though I can’t say for certain, I think the portal is down on Beaches Boulevard, close to the grocery store. I left before it could suck me in at nineteen.”

“That’s encouraging. There has to be someone here my age.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Unless you want to become the trophy wife to a blue hair, you’re out of luck. Give it twenty-seven or so years, and you’ll be one of them.”

“A blue hair?” I had a hard time talking. The voice he’d used sounded like William Shatner, and all I could see were people getting sucked into this imaginary hole in the ground, and then being spit back out when they were old enough to return to the Geneva Key society. I was dying with laughter.

“Yeah, you know…the smarmy old men with lots of money who die their hair black leaving it with a blue tinge?”

“Totally not my cup of tea.”

“What about the people you work with?”

“Most of them are considerably older than I am and don’t live on the island. They drive in for the jobs and leave. And even if they were, I never actually work with anyone. I’m always at a bar by myself. Not much of a chance to make friends.”

“I wish I had great advice. It’s been so long since I’ve lived there, I really don’t know of anyone still around and haven’t met anyone new who’s moved in.”

“It’s not a big deal. I didn’t come here to make social connections. My focus should be on my mom and Dottie, anyhow.”

“Even so, everyone needs to have friends to hang out with. What about your friends in Chicago?”

I didn’t want to admit I didn’t have any. We’d all gone our separate ways after high school. Most of them went to college, and when I stayed home because my mom was sick, the relationships just kind of drifted. Nothing bad happened; we all just led separate lives. “I still talk to them some, but it’s hard to keep up long-distance friendships. You know, with work and family.”

“You should get involved with some of the women’s groups in town. There are tons of volunteer things and charity crap always going on. They wouldn’t be your age, although it might give you something to focus on and maybe make you feel good in the process.”

“I’ll have to see what I can find.”

“My mom is pretty heavily involved. I can have her reach out to you.”

He’d lost his mind if he thought I had any desire to talk to his mom. She terrified me. “I doubt she’d be interested in mingling with the help. But thanks. I’ll be okay.” I hoped I hadn’t hurt his feelings, but based on what I’d seen of him with his parents, it was unlikely.

“I get it. Just don’t sit around wasting away while taking care of everyone else, okay?” If only he knew how true that sentiment was.

“I won’t.”

“I need to get back to work so I’m not here until midnight. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Night, Carp.”

He said goodbye, and we hung up. I knew I was where I was supposed to be—with Mom and Dottie—but sometimes, the loneliness closed in and made it hard to breathe. I wanted to be like my mom had been my whole life—to live every day as if it were my last—however, knowing any day could be my mom’s last kept me from my own adventures. I felt selfish thinking that way; she’d give me everything and had always been my best friend. I owed it to her to give her some of me, and hope when it was over, there was still time left to have my own life.

***

My hands trembled as I handed the money to the cashier at the drug store. When I grabbed the plastic bag and my receipt, the rustling sound echoed in my ears like thunder. My arm jerked in response, and I felt like a spaz when the guy behind the counter stared at me with wide eyes.

“Thank you.” I tried to smile, although the awkward grin did nothing other than earn a confused stare in return.

I hadn’t asked Dottie to bring me because I refused to admit what I needed. Yet now that I was carrying a bag from the pharmacy, I wasn’t sure how I would explain what I’d picked up on my walk. My legs got stiff a lot, and she never questioned how long I was gone, though I never wanted to give her a reason not to trust me, either. Lost in my thoughts, I took the wrong turn, and it ended up taking me another fifteen minutes to find my way back to the cottage. Thankfully, when I walked in, Dottie wasn’t home. She’d left a note on the counter informing me she’d gone to the grocery store. I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t seen her pass me but was grateful for the reprieve.

I considered praying before I sat down on the toilet, except prayers hadn’t changed anything up to this point in my life, and I doubted they would change the outcome of this test. Whatever was meant to be would be. I only hoped I was late due to stress. The last few weeks had been nothing but turmoil and sadness going back and forth to Tampa, and it had taken a toll on my health. Hopefully, this was just another side effect.

When I set the stick down on the granite and washed my hands, something told me I wouldn’t like what I saw. I was right—two pink lines stared at me, blazing like neon lights. With the test in my hand, I sat down on the floor and cried.

James and I had developed a strong friendship. Even though we talked all the time, I wasn’t interested in sharing a baby with him, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind he felt the same. He was in love with Cora, and this would destroy any chance he had of getting back together with her. No woman in their right mind would want to be with a man who had gotten another woman pregnant. It wouldn’t matter that they hadn’t been together when it happened or what he’d done since.

“Chelsea, sweetheart, why are you crying?” Dottie’s concern came from the open bathroom door.

I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there, but I hadn’t heard her come in, and I couldn’t hide the evidence still in my hand.

“Did something happen to your mom? No one called me.”

I just shook my head, unable to respond. As much as I wanted to hide my dirty secret, there was no way I could face this on my own. And without being able to go to James, I had no other choice than to tell Dottie. I dreaded seeing the disappointment on her face, though it was less daunting than destroying James’s life.

I didn’t dare make eye contact when I gestured with my outstretched hand, offering her the explanation for my tears.

“Oh.” That was the only thing she said. She didn’t yell or blow her top. It was one word, one syllable—that was all Dottie gave me.

Until she sat on the bathroom floor and leaned against the cabinets that held me up. She patted my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Children are blessings regardless of the circumstances under which they enter the world.”

I rolled my eyes up to her, wondering what kind of drugs she’d done while she was out of the house. “You can’t be serious. My life is a total mess. How could I possibly bring a child into this chaos?”

She pulled tissue off the roll of toilet paper and handed it to me to blow my snotty nose. When I finally cleaned up my face, she said, “What about the father? Won’t he want to help?”

I proceeded to tell Dottie all about Carp without giving his name or Cora’s. They had both grown up in this town, and I couldn’t risk it getting back to them—not before I figured out what I planned to do. There was so much more to consider than just being a single parent, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it all at this point in my life.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Chelsea. And I wouldn’t force you to do it even if you told me the boy’s name. However, I think any man who fathers a child has a right to know. You weren’t the only one who conceived that baby, and you certainly shouldn’t be the only one responsible for raising it.”

I never knew my dad—not even his name. I’d never seen a picture, heard my mom talk about him, nothing. Not a Christmas card, a birthday present, or even a “hello” along the way. But I never missed him because I’d never known anything different. I’d had an amazing childhood, and other than my mom, Dottie was the only family I’d had.

“I think it would do more harm than good. Plus, I didn’t have a dad, and I turned out okay.”

“You’re incredible…but, Chelsea, your mom didn’t always have it easy. She worked really hard when you were little, and she struggled at times. Just because you never saw that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. And she knew throughout your entire childhood that she would get sick at some point, leaving you alone. She took a huge risk by not involving the father.”

“Then why’d she do it?” Despite my asking this question more times than I could count, my mother had never given me anything to go on.

Dottie’s head dipped and her eyes closed. I could tell she was on the verge of revealing a piece of truth that had the potential to change how I’d viewed everything in my life. I held my breath, waiting for her to speak.

“All of this happened before I met her, so I can only tell you what little I know.”

My chest rose and fell dramatically, and my heart raced.

“She dated a man at work, but he traveled a lot. They had a casual relationship as far as my understanding goes. Your mother cared for him, even if she didn’t love him. They saw each other frequently and talked regularly. When she told him she was pregnant, he finally admitted to her that he was married.”

I gasped, unable to believe anyone could carry on an affair, even a casual one, and the wife not be aware it was happening.

“You have to remember this was a different time, Chelsea. Social media didn’t exist, cell phones were relatively new and not widely used. She had no reason to believe he was anything different than what he told her he was.”

I was speechless. I’d never imagined my mother in some sort of sordid affair. That was the opposite of the person I grew up with. Although, it also made Dottie’s story believable. My mother wouldn’t have slept with another woman’s husband had she known she existed.

“So what happened? Did his wife find out?”

“I think he realized what he stood to lose by his wife finding out, and I believe he loved his wife, he just got caught up in something he shouldn’t have. So he offered your mother a lot of money to go away, which your mother refused. To the best of my understanding, he never told his wife, and your mother never spoke to him again. You were never an option for her—she loved you from the second she knew you existed. It wasn’t in her to be part of a scandal either, and she never would have destroyed a marriage that could have been salvaged. I don’t believe she ever spoke of him again. She was determined to do things on her own, and for you to have the best life possible.”

“If she knew she had Huntingtons then, why wouldn’t she take the money?”

“She wasn’t sick and hadn’t shown any symptoms at that point. And I think she wanted to keep you pure. In her eyes, accepting money for her silence meant she was ashamed. So she adamantly refused.”

It didn’t change anything for me, even if it blew me away. My mother was still my rock, and I loved her. I hated that she struggled because she’d refused help, but in the end, it made our relationship what it was.

“So the guy never asked about me? He never called her to check on me or anything?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I think it might have been the wakeup call he’d needed, although that’s just my assumption. Your mother believed his image in the community played a part, and an affair would have destroyed him and his family. It wasn’t something she wanted on her shoulders, so she let it go and never looked back.”

I considered asking if she knew my father’s name, then I realized that at this point in my life, it wouldn’t do any good. Nothing positive could come of me finding him. If his wife still wasn’t aware I existed, all I’d do by locating him was create exactly what my mom had spent my entire life avoiding.

“Your circumstances are very different than your mother’s, Chelsea. Don’t carry this burden alone. There’s too much at stake.”

I couldn’t begin to consider destroying Carp with this information right now. I was swimming in the similarities between me and my own mother’s history, and it was frightening how alike they were. But right now, I couldn’t think about James or Cora. I had to figure out what I wanted to do before I ruined anyone else’s life.