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Morning Glory(80)

By:Sarah Jio


I feel another deep pain in my belly, and I double over. A boat motors by in the distance and I hear footsteps behind me. Both are faint in comparison to the surge of pain I feel deep inside, a ripping in my abdomen. Then I feel hands on my neck. I try to catch my breath, but I can’t. I look right, then left. I can’t breathe. I can’t see anyone. I just feel pressure around my neck, fingers grasping tighter. I feel the cold of the lake next and nothing else.





Chapter 30





ADA

I’ve agreed to go to church with Alex on Sunday morning, and I can hear the church bells of Saint Mark’s Cathedral from our parking spot a few blocks away. “I forgot how much I love that sound,” I say, stepping out of the car.

“Kellie’s supposed to drop Gracie out front,” Alex says. He looks a little nervous, but I try not to read into it. The truth is, I don’t know how this is supposed to work either. I’ll be meeting Gracie for the first time, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to behave. Will she see me as competition for her father’s attention? An obstacle? I hope not.

We walk along the sidewalk leading to the massive church. There’s a crispness to the air—the earliest indication that fall is coming, and the end of my time on Boat Street, maybe. My lease is up in a week, and other than Alex hinting now and then that I should stay, we haven’t had any concrete discussions about just what that might mean, nor am I ready for them. Seattle has been my big adventure, my last-ditch effort to heal. I didn’t ever anticipate meeting Alex, falling in love with Boat Street, and being possessed by the mystery of Penny Wentworth. In short, I didn’t expect Seattle to carve out such a significant chunk of my heart, and I’m not quite ready to part with it yet. As we walk in unison, and in silence, I remember what Dr. Evinson said: “Take it one day at a time.” Yes.

A black Volkswagen sedan idles in the circular drive. I feel Alex tense as we approach, and I know this must be Kellie’s car. I imagine him sitting in the passenger seat in happier times. Kellie with her hand on Alex’s thigh. Alex smiling charmingly, rubbing the back of her neck.

Puffs of engine exhaust cloud the air. “I’ll wait here,” I say. “I want to take a look at those stained glass windows.”

Alex nods and forces a smile. “Gracie’s going to love you.”

“I hope,” I whisper, as I watch him walk to the car.

Alex opens the passenger’s side door, and I can see Kellie’s face. She looks vaguely annoyed. Her blond hair is pulled back, and even without makeup, she’s still strikingly beautiful. For a moment, I feel a pang of jealousy. This is the mother of his child. The mother. I’m startled by this emotion, and I try to extinguish it as quickly as it rears its head. Kellie casts a glance in my direction and our eyes meet for a moment, but she looks away quickly. Alex speaks to her, she nods, and then he closes the door. It’s clean and precise, like a business transaction, but I can’t help but worry that my presence is making their co-parenting arrangement more difficult. I imagine myself in her shoes, if James and I had parted ways and he—gulp—had met someone else. I know I’d hate any woman who waited in the wings to win the affection of my daughter. I’d despise her. I wouldn’t be proud to admit it, but it’s true.

I forget my worries when the back door opens and a little girl in pink leggings and a magenta sweater dress barrels out. Alex scoops her up and she smiles, revealing a missing front tooth. She’s eight—pretty and blond like her mom, and obviously the apple of her daddy’s eye. Although she looks nothing like Ella, it startles me how much she reminds me of her. I bite my lip as Alex sets her down, and she waves in the direction of her mom’s car as it speeds away. I can’t see Kellie’s expression, but I imagine she’s looking back at us through the rearview. I wonder if she wants to be standing in my place.

I approach cautiously. “Hi,” I say to Gracie. “I’m Ada.”

“I know,” she says. “Mommy told me about you.”

I swallow hard. I have no idea what her mother might have said about me, but I try not to overanalyze. This is a big moment, and I don’t want to let my insecurities overcome me. I kneel down beside her. What would I say to one of Ella’s friends in a difficult moment? I admire the sparkly sequins on her dress. “I like your dress.” Her nose is dotted with tiny freckles.

“Thanks,” she says. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I lost a tooth last week.” Her voice is sweet and high-pitched.

“You did?”