Family Reunion by Nancy Thayer (ereader ebook .txt) 📕

I’m definitely having at least two children,” Ari said. Boldly, she asked, “Do you want children when you marry?”

Beck said, “That depends on who I marry.”

Ari felt his eyes on her face. Warily, she turned to meet his gaze. It was intense and questioning. Deep in her heart, she longed to say something, anything, to tell him how she felt, but the bossy good angel on her shoulder reminded her that she was pregnant, and Ari let the moment pass.

“I should go home,” she said. “I’ve got Beach Camp tomorrow.”

“I’ll drive back up to Plymouth,” Beck said.

They gathered their debris, stuffed it into trash barrels, and walked up the path to his car. As Beck pulled into Eleanor’s driveway, he asked Ari when he could see her again.

“Anytime you want,” she said, smiling. She leaned forward to kiss him thoroughly before sliding out of the car.

—

She found her grandmother in the living room, feet up on an ottoman and pen in hand as she worked on the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. Her cat, Shadow, sat on the arm of her chair.

“Ari! You are absolutely glowing!”

“It’s the sun,” Ari said.

“I don’t think so,” Eleanor replied.

There was a note of invitation in her grandmother’s voice. Ari went around and sat on part of the ottoman. “Gram, I think I’m in love. Really, truly in love.”

“With Beck?”

“Yes. Every time I’m with him, it just feels right. Plus, I love his family. We haven’t made love yet, but I want to. I suppose I shouldn’t be telling my grandmother this, but I really want to. But I don’t want to rush things. Every moment with him is golden.”

Eleanor leaned forward and took Ari’s hand. “I’m happy for you, Ari. It’s rare, a true love. But, my dear, you’re pregnant. Have you made your decision? What if Beck doesn’t want to be with you when you’re carrying another man’s child?”

Ari looked down at her grandmother’s warm hand. The back of it was lined with wormy squiggles of veins and the long bones seemed almost to poke through her thin skin. Someday Ari’s mother’s hands would look like that, and someday, far in the future, Ari’s own.

“You’re older and wiser,” Ari said softly. “I wish you would tell me what to do.”

Eleanor shook her head. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. It could end up dividing us. Besides, I don’t know how you feel, what you want. It’s your decision.”

“I would never hate you, Gram,” Ari said. She thought for a moment. “Things have changed for my generation. People are less serious about having a genetic heir to carry on. I have friends who want to adopt. I guess what I’m saying is that Beck might be willing to take on another man’s child.”

“You’ll never know until you ask him,” Eleanor said.

“You’re right.” Ari yawned. “I’ve got to shower and get some sleep. Beach Camp tomorrow.” She rose, leaned over, kissed her grandmother’s soft cheek, and took herself upstairs.

As she showered and prepared for bed, she intended to think calmly and logically about her dilemma, but she was so tired, she barely made it to her bed before falling asleep wrapped in her towel.

Nineteen

During the last week of July, the muggy intense heat of summer settled over the island. Eleanor’s house didn’t have central air-conditioning—they had never needed it until the last few years when summers became increasingly hotter. She did have a window air conditioner in her bedroom, so she was tolerably cool as she poured her coffee and buttered a piece of raisin toast. These mornings, Ari was already gone by the time Eleanor rose.

Ari.

Eleanor spent a lot of time worrying about her granddaughter, who seemed oddly irrational about her pregnancy. In Eleanor’s day, the moment a woman got pregnant, she was examined by a doctor and put on all sorts of vitamins.

But that was a long time ago. Things change.

Still, with both of Ari’s parents MIA, Eleanor felt she had some responsibility to her granddaughter. Eleanor struggled with her conscience to keep quiet and let Ari live her own life.

On Wednesday, Eleanor’s phone rang.

“Eleanor,” Silas said, “I’d like to invite you to my house for dinner Friday night.”

For a moment, Eleanor was speechless. She gathered her wits and said jokingly, “Do you mean you want me to come cook dinner for you Friday night?”

Silas laughed heartily, and something in Eleanor released. Silas had a nice, warm laugh.

“Actually, in the past couple of years, I’ve come to be quite a chef. Not on par with Gordon Ramsay, but better than you’d expect.”

“Then I’d be glad to come, Silas. What can I bring?”

“Maybe a bottle of wine? I have some wine, but you and I might end up wanting two bottles. Or maybe I’ll concoct a never-before-heard-of cocktail and we won’t need wine or dinner.”

“This is beginning to sound slightly dangerous,” Eleanor said.

“Well, maybe it will be,” Silas shot back, laughing a fake pirate’s laugh.

—

The timing was perfect. Ari left Friday after Beach Camp to drive up to Plymouth to visit Beck and go into Boston on Saturday for a day of museums and theater. To Eleanor, this indicated some level of intimacy between her granddaughter and Beck Hathaway, so she decided to give herself one weekend free of worrying about whether Ari would tell Beck she was pregnant, and why Alicia’s husband was having an affair, and where in the world her daughter had gone on her sudden trip.

Of course, not having others to worry about meant that she had to decide what to wear Friday night. All her clothes were old. But she refused to rush out and buy something so glaringly new she’d seem to be overeager. Besides, it was summer. No one got dressed up except for galas like the Mid-Summer Ball. She had several sundresses that she wore to get-togethers. She chose a plain blue dress that went well with her dark hair and had elbow-length sleeves to hide