It rained most of the morning, but no sooner had Jaden looked through the kitchen window than the sun was coming out, and I was throwing on his little sneakers. After putting in forty-hour weeks as an accountant at one of New Jersey’s largest law firms, I’d gotten used to relying on nature’s surroundings on the weekends to give me a reprieve from the flatness of walls, the unopenable windows, and the artificial clatter of a busy office.

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Summer has always been one of my favorite times of the year, but it’s a different kind of joy sharing it with my adopted son. To think sixteen months ago, I, Teagan Quinn, who embraced visions of becoming a mother for longer than I had ever imagined, worried we wouldn’t bond. He is my summer, autumn, winter, and spring.

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Jaden leans forward in the stroller with eagerness, the wheels drifting over rain puddles. He knows the way to the playground, but I don’t think the sun has had enough time to dry everything up yet, so I get another idea. I squat down in front of him and kiss his forehead. “Let’s see if Aunt Bridget is home, okay?” He notices I’ve turned off in another direction from the park. “Aunt Bridget has cookies.”

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My oldest sister’s house is a fifteen-minute walk from mine. I get behind the stroller and resume pushing it, the scent of freshly cleansed air and honeysuckle invigorating my senses. We pass by houses with lush green, landscaped lawns and gardens of daisies, petunias and daffodils. The fluttering and chirping of birds are everywhere. Besides it being a sensory-high day, my mood is heartened by the mindfulness that everything is going in the right direction. Life is good. Mike’s business is already showing a profit compared with former years, when it usually didn’t happen until much later in the year. It means he can indulge in hiring more help so he can spend more time at home with me and Jaden.

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My cell phone buzzes inside my pocket, and I hurry to take it out. “Jaden and I are out for a walk,” I say when I hear my husband’s voice. “We’re heading over to Bridget’s house.”

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“Say hello from me,” my husband says. “I just wanted to call to tell you the store’s really busy today. It’s the last day of our summer clearance sale. People are stocking up on everything. Business is booming, Teag.” The excitement in his voice is unmistakable. “Anyway, looks like I’ll be home late again.”

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“Isn’t Bill helping out?” I’m disappointed. Bill is Mike’s younger brother and an equal partner of their family hardware store. I put my phone on speaker and steer the stroller with both hands.

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“Bill’s leaving early today. He has a date with his wife. Someplace in the city,” Mike says. “It’s their anniversary.”

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“Oh. How nice. How many years?” Mike and I haven’t been out alone together since Jaden was born. Our outings are often planned around him. We both work so much during the week and Mike on Saturdays that we feel like we don’t get to spend as much time with him as we’d like.

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“Five is what he told me.”

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“Has it been five years already? It feels like their wedding wasn’t that long ago. Okay then, I’ll keep dinner warm for you.”

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“Don’t worry about me,” Mike says. “I’ll just grab something to eat from Tony’s.”

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“Okay, but don’t forget . . . tomorrow we’re taking Jaden to the zoo. It’s going to be a nice day for it.”

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“I didn’t forget. Put Jaden on.”

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“I’ll Facetime so he can see you.” I place my phone into Jaden’s reaching hand. He loves the phone. I may never get it back.

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“Go ahead.”

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“How’s my little guy?” Jaden’s eyes grow wide and he kicks his feet when he sees Mike’s face appear on the screen. “I hear you and Mommy are going for a walk today. And tomorrow we’re all going to the zoo together. What’s Jaden’s favorite animal? Is it a monkey? A lion? Can you roar like a lion?”

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“Grrrr,” Jaden says, bending his fingers into claws, and I catch my phone right before it falls over the side.

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“Where’d you go?” Mike’s spirited voice emits through the phone.

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I right the phone in Jaden’s hand so he can see his dad again. “There you are. I love you, buddy.” 

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Jaden is fascinated with the phone. He turns it around in his small hands. “Da-da.”

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“Be a good boy for mommy.”

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“Jaden just kissed the phone,” I say, laughing. “We’re almost at Bridget’s house. See you tonight then. Love you.”

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“Love you too. Oh, Teag?”

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“Yeah?”

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“Our tenth anniversary is in a few months.”

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I chuckle softly. “Who would’ve ever believed it?”

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“I believed it.” The sentimental cadence of his voice touches me. “We should do something special for it. Maybe take a trip.”

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I crest the little hill toward Bridget’s white, colonial-style house amid a landscape of red oaks dressed in glossy green leaves, her two boys playing basketball in the driveway. “A trip? Where to?” I point toward the sky. “Look, Jaden, a rainbow.”

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“Someplace down in Florida. Tampa, Sarasota, or maybe Sanibel Island where we spent our honeymoon. We loved it there. It’d be fun to return to the place where it all started.”

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“Okay. But there’s still plenty of time. We don’t have to decide now, do we?” Jaden sees his cousin, Eileen, dashing out the front door, her blonde ponytail bouncing over her shoulders. 

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“Of course,” Mike says. “It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

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I lift Jaden out of the stroller and place him on the ground. “We can talk it over tonight. After . . . you know.” Saturday nights might as well be penciled in on the calendar as our love-making nights. After Jaden came into our lives and with our hectic work schedules, we started scheduling sex-date nights, and it’s worked for us, restoring intimacy after years of unpromising baby-making sex. It’s different when trying to conceive is taken off the table. Spontaneity may be lacking in planned sex, but the anticipation more than makes up for it. 

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“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Mike says using his husky voice. “A customer’s looking for me. Gotta run. I love you. See you tonight.”

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Eleven-year-old Eileen stops at the driveway and shouts to her older brothers. “Mommy says you both have to clean your rooms.” In a hands-on-hips pose, she’s all attitude. Her brothers are well-practiced at ignoring her. “I’m telling,” she shrieks, and the idyllic suburban scene shatters.

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Jaden teeters over to Eileen with outstretched arms. The little mother in her enjoys getting diverted, giving her baby cousin a warm hug before scooping him up in her arms, Jaden’s legs dangling past her knees. In a couple more years he’ll probably be taller than she is. “You are getting so big.” Jaden soon squirms to be let down. He prefers to walk as he’s been doing since he was nine months old.

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He was slower at talking than walking. I’d become concerned at first, but then one day he just started to talk, not merely lone words but short phrases, as if he had been storing them up for when he was good and ready. “I wan’ cookie,” was his first and still his favorite catchphrase. Once inside the house, Eileen goes straight to the cookie jar and hands Jaden a chocolate chip cookie.

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“Is that you, Teagan?” Bridget calls from the laundry room. My older sister is a human conveyor belt of eternal laundry and meals for her family of five. The quintessential wife and mother, she hasn’t worked outside the home since her first son was born seventeen years ago. I love my sister, my confidante, my mentor, my hero. I don’t know how I would have gotten through some of the hardest years of my life without her. Seven years older than me, she took me under her wing after our too-young mother passed away from lung cancer when I was sixteen. Along with my oldest brother, Padrick, she was already married and out of the house when that happened.

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Bridget comes out of the laundry room holding a wicker basket of her husband Sean’s work clothes. “I’m glad you stopped over. I was going to call you. I won’t be able to make the mommy’s luncheon next weekend. Sean’s senior foreman is having all the builders and their wives over for dinner on Saturday.

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Suellen, my closest friend and co-worker, hosts a catered luncheon once a month in her sprawling house. Moms get together while their young children play in the large recreation room in the back of the house, supervised by her live-in nanny and a sitter. Suellen and her husband, Adam, have a one-year-old boy, and now Suellen’s expecting twins in six months. Carol, another co-worker friend, also comes with her two-year-old daughter, as does Suellen’s sister-in-law, who has two daughters around the same age. Bridget has been joining us the last few months, bringing Eileen along to enjoy taking on a mini-mothering role with the toddlers.

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At Suellen’s we can laugh loud, act silly and obnoxious, and curse all we want. It’s a great escape and release. 

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“I hate to miss it,” Bridget says, “and Eileen will be disappointed, but it is what it is. You’ll let Suellen know for me, won’t you?”

“Sure. But maybe I can bring Eileen with me and Jaden so she doesn’t have to miss out too.”

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“Oh. She’d love that. Could you? She looks forward to it as much as I do,” Bridget says while folding a pair of men’s jeans.

“Honestly, we need her there. She’s our mother’s helper.”

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Sean comes inside from doing yard work and gives me a warm smile. “Hey, Teagan.” He goes over to Jaden and pats him on the head. “How’s it going, little man?” 

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Eileen reaches into the cookie jar again while Jaden watches. “That’s his last cookie,” I tell her.

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Sean turns to Bridget. “Have the boys cleaned their rooms yet?”

“No. Outside shooting hoops.”

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“Whatever happened to the chores-first-play-after rule?” Sean says. Bridget sighs, wisps of her strawberry-dirty-blonde hair escaping a messy bun on top of her head. “I’ll take care of it.” He glides his hand over Bridget’s shoulder before he heads outside.

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Bridget and Sean are my favorite couple in the whole world. In love with each other, they are the couple to model after, were it that simple. They make it look easy. But for most, it is not. My other sister Colleen, who lives forty-five minutes from us, not only makes it look hard, she makes it look downright unbearable. Not surprising when you’re married to an egotistical, arrogant man whose narcissism dominates their marriage, even if pretentious Colleen doesn’t say so. I say so.

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I leave Bridget’s house in a frenzy of Saturday family chores. Encouraged by the strong sun’s drying effect, I stroll in the direction of the playground, much to Jaden’s delight, where the day’s outdoor activities culminate on a high note.

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Invigorated by a late evening shower, I towel-dry my hair and decide to let it air dry. Jaden is fast asleep after a full day of outdoor play, then a quick meal before bath time. I pour myself a glass of pinot grigio and glance at the kitchen clock. Mike’s store closed over an hour ago. I check my phone messages. There’s nothing from him, so I shoot him a text. 

 

Me

Sanibel Island memories filling my head. Come home soon.

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He’s probably still finishing up on some things at the shop while it’s quiet and there aren’t any distractions. He’ll be tired when he gets home, but I’ll do my best to help him unwind from a long day. I know all his soft spots and his hot spots. With the stress of trying to conceive out of the way, the upshot has been a healthy, restored sex life. Weeknight sex, if it happens, is irregular and hurried, but weekend sex is generous and restorative. I’m getting turned on thinking about it. I start back up the stairs to dab on Mike’s favorite perfume, J’Adore—the one he bought me for my thirty-fourth birthday—when I hear a knock on my front door. Did Mike forget his keys? I look down at the long nightshirt I’m wearing. Who else would it be at this hour? I rush down the stairs to see who’s at my door.

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The three huddled forms I see through my front door peephole are an incongruous trio – my oldest brother, Padrick, wearing his police chief garb, sister Bridget, and Police Sergeant Luke Pisani. Why is Luke here? I swing the front door open wide. The three of them turn as one to look at me. “I was expecting Mike,” I say, bewildered. “What are you all doing here?”

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My eyes sweep over their faces. Three faces that look back with pained expressions. Three pairs of knitted brows. Three pairs of the saddest eyes I ever saw. I take a few steps back away from the door. “Bridget?” My sister lowers her mascara-smudged eyes, her chin trembling in a way I’ve never seen. Lines cut across Padrick’s forehead as he comes forward to reach for me. Luke stays back, eyes downcast. My throat constricts. My heart races. “What is it? What happened?” A feeling of dread churns in my stomach.

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My brother wraps his arm around me tightly, steering me toward the couch. “Oh God, no, please no! Tell me he’s not dead.”