“When are you going to tell him, Chelsea?” Dottie’s voice was elevated, although it wasn’t in anger. She simply didn’t want me to face raising a child on my own.

“I already told you.” I struggled to remain calm. I’d repeated this same thing so many times I was tired of hearing myself talk, all because Dottie refused to listen to reason. “I’m not going to put that on him before he goes to Paris.”

“Why is his relationship with another woman more important than his responsibility to his child?” She wouldn’t let this go. I couldn’t tell if it had more to do with my own mother having walked away from my father, or her desire to resurrect her relationship with her child, or a million other things. All I knew was that her constant pushing me to do what she thought was right suffocated me.

“It’s not, but they’ll never get together if she’s aware he has a baby on the way. He’s leaving in a couple weeks to go see her. It’s not like I’m waiting until after the baby’s born.” My voice cracked under the strain of remaining respectful.

“So you’re going to wait until they’re engaged? I don’t follow your logic.”

“If they get engaged, I’m not telling him. End of story.” I’d intentionally left Carp’s name out of all discussions with Dottie, thankfully. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least to find out she was friends with his family, and that would only spell disaster if she felt like going around me to them. At this point, she believed it was a guy I worked with. Clearly, she hadn’t noticed there wasn’t anyone under the age of forty in that crowd.

“Chelsea, you have a lot going on. You need his help, even if it’s only financial.”

“I’m about to lose the only thing I have going on, Dottie. So unless you’re going to kick me out if I don’t tell him, I don’t need his help. I’ll be okay.”

She stood from her seat at my side and turned to face me. With her hands on her hips, she huffed. “You and I both know that’s not true. At some point, you’re going to have to face your future…I just don’t want it to be too late.” Her words were like a hard slap across the face, one that knocked the taste right out of my mouth.

Dottie had never talked to me that way. She’d never been so cruel. It didn’t matter if there were any validity to anything she’d said, it stung.

I’d struggled with this decision since I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t arrive at this conclusion on a whim—I’d agonized over it. The weight of either choice held dire consequences, but if Cora said yes, then she and Carp had a fighting chance at the love of a lifetime. I’d never have that and refused to rob him of it, or her. And no matter what scenario ran through my head, I always wanted Carp to get the best life he could have. I didn’t care to saddle him with my problems or a child. And if he ever found out, it’d be too late to change anything.

Lying back on my pillows, I propped my feet up on the end of the bed. My tummy had started to pooch just a bit with the hint of a baby underneath. I hadn’t told my mom, although at this point, I wasn’t sure it would matter. She’d been virtually unresponsive for days, and the end was near. I rubbed a shaky hand over my belly and talked to the bump as if the baby inside could hear me.

Maybe I was selfish, and it had likely shaped my decision, but I was okay with this baby being mine. My mother had been the center of my universe all my life, and I hated to admit that being on the cusp of that ending made me want to complete the cycle with my own little version of me. I strived to be the mother Janie Airy had been. She’d fulfilled all her dreams—even knowing she would get sick—with me in tow. It was probably naïve to think she’d preferred it that way, but I’d always believed she did.

Either way, I still had time to change my mind. Carp wouldn’t be back from Paris until the beginning of January. And one way or another, he’d have an answer either way when he returned. I’d only be a little over five months along, so if they weren’t engaged, that was more than enough time to pull the trigger and allow him to be involved. And if he didn’t, I would be prepared for that as well. However, if they did get engaged, I hadn’t gotten my hopes up to begin with.

I had no desire to be with James Carpenter. I wasn’t in love with him, and I had zero romantic interest—taking the love of his life away just seemed like a cruel punishment. My phone rang on the nightstand next to me, breaking me out of the vicious circle of thoughts I couldn’t escape on my own.

Speak of the devil. “Hey, Carp.” I had to make a concerted effort these days to keep my voice light. He knew I was dealing with something that kept me from being super cheerful, although he thought it revolved solely around my mom.

“Hey, Chelsea. I’m glad to see you haven’t fallen into the portal.”

“What?” I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

“I haven’t heard from you in a couple days and was afraid Geneva Key had swallowed you up with the rest of the youngsters.”

“Nope, I just avoid that part of town.” I giggled. It was nice to hear his voice and have him joke around. Dottie was so serious about everything these days that, sometimes, I felt guilty for smiling. “Are you getting excited about going to Paris? You’re only a couple weeks away.”

“Nervous. I can count on one hand the number of life-defining moments I’ve had, and this is definitely at the top of those. I don’t know what—”

The phone beeped, interrupting what he was saying. “Hang on just a second, Carp. Someone’s on the other line.” Before I could answer it, the call had gone to voicemail, but it wasn’t a number I recognized. “I guess I missed it. What were you saying?”

“Um, I don’t remember. Sorry, I’m kind of scatterbrained these days.”

Dottie burst through the door, her face streaked with tears. “Chelsea?” The moment she said my name, I sat up, and she saw I was on the phone.

“Carp, let me call you back. Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I didn’t say goodbye or wait for him to, either. I terminated the call and stared at the woman falling apart in my doorway.

Standing quickly, I tossed my phone onto the bed. “What is it? Is it Mom?”

Her hands cupped her face, and when she nodded, long strands of gray hair surrounded her thin, delicate fingers.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t say a word.

I remained still, committing this moment to memory.

This was the time I’d learned my mother had died.

***

I’d never attended a funeral, much less been forced to plan one. It didn’t seem fair; she was too young to lose her life to such a cruel disease. I hated that there was no cure and that it was such a painful, degrading way to go. By the time she’d left us, she couldn’t talk, couldn’t control her motor functions, couldn’t swallow, and essentially, lived trapped in a body that refused to work.

I’d never be able to say with any certainty just how cognizant she’d been of anything going on around her or if she’d understood when I told her I was pregnant. I knew she’d kept my secret until her dying breath. I’d told her everything I could about James Carpenter: how we’d met, our laughable sexcapade on the beach, all the way to his undying love for Cora. She’d blinked rapidly when I told her about their fairy-tale romance. It may have been a reflex, but I believed she wanted their love story to work out as much as I did. I also believed she understood why I hadn’t told him about the baby. She’d made the same choice, even if my circumstances were a little different. She hadn’t wanted my father to lose his marriage.

Sitting in the pew of the mostly empty church, I tuned out the minister giving the service in favor of remembering the last conversation I’d had with my mom. I had told her Dottie confessed about my dad, and that I loved her for thinking I was special enough to endure the hard times alone. I also made sure she knew I held no ill will for her decision to keep it a secret. I refused to let her think she would carry that to the grave. It might not have given her any peace because she might not have even been aware of what I said, although I felt lighter with her secret out in the open.

“Chuck Plahniuk once said, ‘The unreal is more power than real, because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it, because it’s only intangible concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles, wood rots. People, well they die. But things as fragile as thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on.’ Janie Airy will go on forever as a legend in the legacy she left. I’ve never met a woman more dedicated to a cause than Janie was to finding a cure for Huntingtons, and in the fight, she touched so many people that her memory will live in the hearts of others for generations to come.”

I recognized the man from the Huntington Foundation. My mom had done fundraising for them most of my life. He was as old as Methuselah, yet he’d known her well. It was nice to think he believed my mother was a legend that would stand the test of time, one as powerful as a dream and as fragile as a thought. I had missed his taking the podium and the preacher stepping down, but I was glad I’d heard that if nothing else.

The music played, and the twenty or so people who’d attended the funeral in Tampa made their way to her graveside. There were more flowers than I could think of what to do with from out-of-state mourners who were unable to attend. However, their sentiment wasn’t lost. The volume of beautiful blooms surrounding her casket and her grave were reminders that my mom had been well-loved. Dottie and I had received countless cards where hundreds of thousands of dollars had been donated to the Huntington Foundation in her memory. She would have been elated that not only had her life brought meaning to those who suffered, but in her death, she’d made one final contribution.

I was numb to it all. I’d shed so many tears over the last year that I almost felt relief it was over, that she wasn’t in pain anymore, and she no longer had to endure in a body that gave out long ago. My face was the only one that was dry next to the gravesite, though no one commented on my lack of a breakdown. It would come, I was sure of it—most likely when I felt safe knowing that no one would witness my final goodbye.

After everyone departed, Dottie waited in the car while I watched them lower her casket into the ground. There was no music playing, no words spoken, just a silent exodus from the earth. When the first shovelful of dirt hit the wood, I couldn’t bear the sound, the hollow thud, knowing my mother was underneath. And I turned and fled.

Once back in the car, I took the passenger seat. I was in no shape to drive. My hands hadn’t stopped shaking since Dottie came into my room, and I felt like I was in a continuous state of confusion. Although, Dottie assured me it was natural to feel so disorientated after losing a loved one. My attempt to steady my fingers by placing them over my belly worked for the time being, but probably only because I fell asleep.

“Sweetheart.” Dottie’s hand patted my leg and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We’re home. Let’s go inside.”

My eyes fluttered open only to realize it hadn’t been a dream. And every day from now on, I’d wake up as an orphan.

I just sat there and stared through the windshield at the sky changing colors as the sun set, wondering if it would get any easier. My mind struggled to process that she was really gone and not still lying in a hospital bed in Tampa. It had been ages since she’d had an active part in my daily life, but I struggled to let go of the notion that I could go see her tomorrow.

Stretching my legs in front of me, I reached for the handle to open the door. Yet when I went to get out, the tingles in my limbs left my legs more like Jell-O than something sturdy enough to walk on. And before I could sit back down or steady myself on the door, I stumbled to the ground, landing on my side.

“Chelsea? Are you all right?” Instantly, Dottie was by my side to help me up.

“Yeah, my legs were asleep. I’ll be okay.” I pushed myself off the ground, thankful I hadn’t landed on my stomach, and dusted myself off. My bruised ego was nothing compared to my broken heart.

“Come on, I’ll make us some coffee.” She linked her arm with mine to escort me inside without making me feel like she was coddling me.

“I’m really beat, Dottie. I think I’m going to lie down.” I didn’t mention that I was going to call Carp. She still didn’t know his name, and I had no interest in revisiting that argument. It had been a long day, and I wanted nothing more than to say hello and then sink into the comfort of my mattress and bury myself in covers.

***

“Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” I hadn’t made the phone call to Carp the night of my mom’s funeral. I couldn’t bring myself to dial because I couldn’t bear for him to ask how things had gone.

“Yeah, I leave in less than eight hours. I’ve got to be at JFK at oh-dark-thirty.”

“I should let you go so you can get some sleep.”

“I can talk for a bit. I doubt I’ll sleep anyhow.”

I went through the checklist of things he needed to remember…like I was his mother instead of some strange cell phone pen pal he’d picked up at his father’s birthday party. “The ring. If you don’t remember anything other than the ring and your passport, you’ll be fine.”

“Got them both.”

“Don’t put the ring in your suitcase. I’ve heard the airlines search them, and you could lose it to someone who gets grabby in security.”

“Jesus, that would send me into a tailspin. Can you imagine?”

I couldn’t, which was why I told him not to do it. “Nope, it would be horrible. Have you finalized your plan for how you’re going to propose?”

Knowing it had to be perfect, he’d debated on this for weeks. I tried to listen as he shared his final ideas with me on how he’d ask Cora to be his wife, except my mind drifted when the little life inside me fluttered. And I wondered for the umpteenth time if I was making the right decision.

“What do you think my chances are?”

I jolted back to the topic at hand. “Of Cora saying yes?”

“Yeah. I mean, you don’t know her, but what would you say if you were in her position?”

“I’m a romantic at heart, so I wouldn’t be able to resist. If she loves you the way you do her, she’d be a fool to say no. Have some confidence. This is what you want, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Then the only way to get it is to ask for it. You can’t control what happens from there.” And if she says no, you’ll have another surprise waiting for you when you return. Although, I didn’t say any of that, or even hint at it.

He yawned, and I needed to let him go. He didn’t need to miss his flight because he’d been on the phone all night.

“You sound tired, so I’m going to let you get off here. Promise me you’ll let me know what she says.”

“Of course. You’ll be the first person I tell.”

“Have a safe trip.”

“Hey, Chelsea?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your mom. I know you haven’t wanted to talk about it, but I’ve been really worried about you.”

I took a deep breath and fought back the tears. “Thank you. I’m doing as well as can be expected. I just miss her.”

“I’m here anytime you need to talk. I really mean that.”

“I’m sure you do, but it won’t bring her back—it’ll only bring you down. I’ll find a way to move on. I’m sure I’ll have something else to take my mind off it in a couple months.” He had no idea how true those words were. “Promise, I’ll be okay.”

“Maybe when Cora comes home, the three of us could get together. I’d love for the two of you to meet.” He meant well, but he didn’t have a clue what he was suggesting. “She could tell you all about Paris, and you could regale her with stories of the socialites you work with in Geneva Key.” The humor in his voice made me smile. In another time and another place, his wish might have come true.

What he didn’t know was that by the time Cora came home, her fiancé would have a baby that was almost two months old, a baby neither of them was aware of. I doubted she’d welcome me and an infant carrier to New York with open arms. Only time would tell.

“That would be great.” And it would be, if there were a chance in hell it’d happen. but However, if Cora said yes, my time with James Carpenter would come to a close. I wouldn’t lie to him, but I couldn’t tell him the truth, and the only way to avoid that was to disappear the same way my dad had done.

“Get some rest. I’ll let you know how things go.”

I didn’t expect to hear from him until after he proposed, and likely not before he returned from Paris. It would be a long ten-day wait. I’d put destiny in the hands of fate, and now I just had to wait to see which way she leaned.