“Do you think I’m a bad mother?” Her voice was quiet. “That I can’t take care of my kids? I want to hear it if that’s what you think.”
“No one’s saying that, Jenna. To be honest, Addie and Walsh seem to be happy, well-adjusted kids, and that probably says a lot about your mothering skills. It’s up to them to decide what kind of mom you are, but I have to tell you, your sister skills could use a little work.”
Jenna was silent. Ty continued.
“You pack up your kids and drop them off with Betsy—the sister who for five years has been unable to have her own children—and expect us to just accept it. To kick back and wait for your little adventure to end so you can blow back in here whenever your time is done and whisk these girls away. Then you get to return to your life with Addie and Walsh while your sister—my wife—is left with a silent house.”
Ty rubbed his hand across his eyes, pushing hard until colors exploded behind his eyelids. He glanced toward the bathroom—steam still fogged the mirror from the hot water running only minutes ago. He wished he were in there now, scalding water pounding his back, beating the tension out of his shoulders.
“I didn’t know,” she stammered. “About Betsy. And you. Five years?”
“She’d been off the pill for six months when you called and told her you were pregnant.”
“Oh,” Jenna breathed. “I had no idea. I just figured y’all were . . . I don’t know, waiting. So when she stayed with us last summer, she was talking about some tests . . . I didn’t ask for details. I should have asked.”
“We’d just done our first IUI. It’s where you . . .” He cleared his throat. His anger had leaked out, leaving him drained. And his head was pounding. “Anyway, it didn’t work and we found out the day before she left. She’d been hoping . . . We’d both hoped it would turn out differently.”
Jenna groaned. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t she say anything?”
“Would it have made a difference? Would you have skipped the retreat if you’d known?”
“I don’t know, I . . .” She exhaled.
Ty scanned the perimeter of their bedroom. Their wedding photo framed on the wall, their clean, folded clothes mingled together on a side chair, a pair of Betsy’s sandals on the floor. His eyes rested on a glass jar sitting on her nightstand, next to a glass of water and a paperback she read every night before bed. The jar had a smattering of debris at the bottom. It took only a moment to realize what it was. After Addie found the first heart-shaped rock at the creek and passed it to Betsy, it became a game between the three of them—Betsy and the girls. Whenever they came across anything heart shaped—mostly rocks, but leaves and pieces of bark too—they’d stick it in their pockets. Ty didn’t know Betsy had saved them.
“I don’t think it was the easiest thing for her to talk about. But knowing Betsy, even if she had told you what was going on, she still would have wanted you to go on this trip. To do what you needed to do. But she’s my wife and it’s my duty to protect her. I’m sure you plan to come back here at some point, but until then, we have a life, a farm to take care of, and two kids to try to love and entertain while you’re gone. Just do me a favor and give us a heads-up before you come back this way.”
He waited for Jenna to explode back with as much force as she could muster, but she didn’t. “Are the girls still awake? I’d like to talk to them.”
He wanted to say no, but she was their mother. “I can check.”
Ty crossed the hall and tapped on the door. Addie and Walsh were in bed but still awake. Betsy sat on the edge of the bed talking quietly to them. “Girls? Your mom’s on the phone.”
Betsy moved to make room for Ty, and he handed the phone to Addie. “Hold it out so you both can hear.”
“Mommy?” Addie asked.
“Hi, baby. How are you?”
Sitting so close to Addie on the bed, they could hear Jenna’s voice coming through the phone as clear as if she were sitting right there with them.
“Good.”
“What have you been doing?”
Addie shrugged.
“Addie?”
Betsy leaned down and whispered, “Tell her about the henhouse.”
“We get to check the hens for eggs every morning. Yesterday I found four all by myself.”
“I found two,” Walsh added.
“You did? That’s so cool. Will you show me the hens when I get there?”
“Are you getting here tomorrow?”
“No, baby, I won’t be there tomorrow. But I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“But that’s what you said last time.”
“I know. You just have to trust me, okay? I love you both so much. When I see you, I’ll hug you in the tightest hugs you’ve ever had. How does that sound?”
A smile played on Addie’s lips. “Super-duper tight?”
“Super-duper-duper-duper tight. How about that?”
“Good,” Walsh said.
“Okay, sweet girls. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay. I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too.”
Lying in bed, Ty wanted to tell Betsy about the call with Jenna—the longing he heard in her voice, but the determination too. The things that worried him. But when it came to Jenna, he didn’t know how to navigate the sore places in Betsy’s heart.
Her impossible idea of enrolling the girls in school still weighed heavy on his mind, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep with so much unspoken between them. He rolled onto his side and looked at her, her profile sharp in the light coming in through the window. “You awake?” he whispered.
She opened her eyes, her gaze on the ceiling. The quiet moment before she spoke seemed to last an
