Oh, she wanted to talk about it. To dream about it—out loud, if possible. But Liam kept his eyes pinned to the road. Something had happened at the doctor’s, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She’d handed him that packet, and then—then he was gone. He’d seemed so excited to come along, but now he might as well be on another planet. An unbridgeable gap. She wanted to put her hand on his arm and ask him what was going through his mind, but every time she looked over, all she could see was the tight set of his jaw.
They pulled into her driveway an hour later. Liam had spoken to her once—and it was to say, “Need the rest stop?” That was it. She had not needed the rest stop. The thought of having to get back into Liam’s car again was too much.
She hopped out of the truck at top speed—anything for fresh air and to escape the crushing silence.
Her car was in the driveway.
Her broken-down car, with something stuck in the front wiper. She plucked it off. A ticket? No, a note from the local repair shop. Bad alternator, it read. Bill is taken care of. Call if you need anything!
Mina wheeled around to ask Liam about it—it had to have been him, since nobody else knew she’d been stranded—but he was already at the end of the driveway, pulling out with the windows rolled up tight.
“Wait,” she called. “I want to pay you back for this. Wait!” But he didn’t turn his head. He only accelerated down the road, leaving her standing in her driveway.
The sunny day bore down on her, the light suddenly painful. She’d been so excited for spring to arrive, and it was coming in dribs and drabs. Today the breeze was edged in a chill that wouldn’t let go. It cut through her leggings, but Mina couldn’t move.
It hurt, to watch Liam drive off without a word. It took her back to that day in high school when she’d thought the worst of him. It was that same pain, deep beneath the surface of her skin. At the center of her beating heart. The pain pulsed with every beat. Why, why, why? Why did it hurt so badly? She kept her eye on the end of the road, hoping beyond hope that he would turn around and come back. It was a wild, stupid hope, and she hated herself for it.
She took a deep breath. “It’s better this way,” she said out loud. Better to find out that it wouldn’t work at all now, before her emotional investment got the better of her. He wasn’t invested, and that—that cut deeply. But that wasn’t something she could sort through by standing in the driveway.
Mina got into her newly fixed car, guilt turning her stomach, and drove to her grandmother’s nursing home instead.
Aileen sat in the group activity room, smiling down at a paint-by-numbers she was working on. Mina could tell instantly that it was a good day, just by the way Aileen’s expression was open and relaxed. Good. “Oh, hello,” said Aileen. “Are you looking for a place to sit? Or are you looking to visit somebody?” She gave Mina a broad smile. “I’m not good with names, but I can ask one of the others, if you’d like.”
Mina’s heart sank. A good day didn’t necessarily mean Aileen would recognize her. “I’d love to sit with you,” she said. “I’m having a wonderful day. Actually, I have wonderful news.”
Aileen’s eyes brightened. “I love good news.”
“I’m pregnant,” Mina said, willing the universe to let her grandmother recognize her again, if only for a few moments. “I’m going to have a baby.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” Aileen took Mina’s hands in hers and squeezed. “That’s lovely news.” The smile faded from her face. “But why do you look so sad, dear? What’s wrong?”
Mina struggled to arrange her face back into something that would pass for happiness. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Nothing but good news.”
Aileen leaned in conspiratorially. “What does your husband think?”
Mina gave a laugh. “I’m not married,” she said. “But I know you were married, and you loved your husband very much.”
“I did, I did.” Aileen’s gaze went far away. “I’ve missed him for a long time.” She picked up her paintbrush and rolled it slowly between her fingers. “It was so nice to have someone to share life with. I wish he’d been able to see the children grow up.” A dark shadow passed over her face, but she perked up again. “You know, he used to bring me flowers every Wednesday.”
“Did he?”
“He did,” confirmed Aileen. “For no reason at all. Just every Wednesday, there he’d be with a big bouquet. He got them from all over the place. And I had a vase…” Aileen frowned. “I’m not sure what happened to that vase. I’m sure I had it here with me, not long ago, but now I don’t see it.” She craned her neck around. “I don’t see it anywhere.”
Mina reached for her hand. “It’s all right, Aileen. I’m sure we can locate the vase.”
Her grandmother bit her lip and stared at her. “Well, how would you know where my vase went? I don’t think you’ve ever been here before.”
More than anything, Mina wanted to lay her head down on the table and cry. There was nothing crueler than watching
