afternoon, no one else was outside. Several of the cottages near them were summer and vacation getaways and frequently vacant.
“I called Tammy and asked her to take my clients tomorrow,” Marcie said softly, sharing a worried glance with Juliet, a worry the pure blue sky overhead couldn’t assuage.
Juliet wanted to tell her sister that everything would be just fine. She tried to convey that with her eyes and her smile. But she couldn’t really. Because she was worried, too, about their futures—and, at the moment, about Mary Jane’s reaction to the upcoming conversation.
At least one of the things they had to tell the little girl wasn’t going to go well. Juliet was certain of that. Just as certain as she was that she had to tell her.
Wearing denim shorts with a long-sleeved pink T-shirt, Mary Jane bounced on ahead of them, their self-appointed spot picker.
Juliet was happy to let her go. She and Marcie had talked long into the night and both were pretty sure about what had to be done. For all of them. It just wasn’t going to be easy.
“Right here,” Mary Jane said, choosing a spot in the center of the private beach, some distance from their cottage. It was just like her, always wanting to be in the middle of things.
Seagulls hopped down by the water. The waves were calm, a steady flow back and forth, bringing in little treasures—and taking some with them.
“I’m going to look for shells,” Mary Jane announced, kicking off her flip-flops.
“No, you’re not,” Juliet told her. She used Mary Jane’s shoes to weigh down two corners of the blanket, kicking off her own sandals to get the other two corners. “Have a seat.”
Marcie pulled bottles of water out of the canvas bag they’d packed. There was fruit, bread, cheese and cookies as well, but it was still too early to eat.
With a pinched face, Mary Jane sat on top of one of her sandals. “What’s wrong?” she asked, passing a frightened look between her mother and her aunt. “Is this about me?”
“No,” Marcie said with a surface grin as she kicked off her backless tennis shoes, pulled up the legs of her navy running suit and joined her niece. “Not everything in the world is about you, Squirt.”
“I know that.”
Moving the bag to one edge of the blanket, Juliet finally had nothing left to do but join the other two. Sitting cross-legged, she formed the third point of the McNeil family triangle.
“Sweetie, your aunt Marcie and I have a couple of things to tell you.”
Mary Jane’s green eyes widened. “Two of them?” Though she was picking at a yarn tie on the quilt, her gaze met Juliet’s.
“Yep.”
“Big things?”
“Uh-huh.” Juliet nodded. She was still wearing the black Lycra pants and white Hollywood T-shirt she’d put on to in-line skate that morning. She and Marcie had come down to the beach with coffee, instead, to keep talking.
“Am I in trouble?” Mary Jane’s timid voice pulled at Juliet.
“No, you’re not.”
The eight-year-old’s shoulders relaxed slightly as some of the tension eased out of her small frame. Before she’d had Mary Jane, Juliet had never guessed how much another person’s happiness and peace could mean to her. How much she’d give to have every single pain Mary Jane would ever feel come to her instead.
“Should I go first?” Marcie asked, looking from one to the other.
Juliet nodded. It might be better if she told Mary Jane about Blake first, and then followed up with Marcie’s less threatening news, but if Marcie was going to offer even this small reprieve, she was willing to take it. Maybe some magical way to present things would occur to her in the meantime. Because as it was, she had no idea what she was going to say to her daughter.
“What’s wrong, Aunt Marcie?” Mary Jane asked, frowning at her aunt with concern. “Are you going to marry Hank?”
“Nooo!” Marcie half chuckled, half choked. “You know neither one of us wants to get married. But if I was, I’d hardly call that something being wrong!”
“Wellll.” The child drew out the word. “It would mean that you’re staying in Maple Grove forever and you always say you don’t want to do that.”
Marcie and Juliet exchanged another glance. Out of the mouths of babes.
“No, I’m not marrying Hank,” Marcie said, knees up to her chin, holding her toes. “Actually, things are going to change a lot. I’d like to move in with you and your mom,” she said, and then, before the girl could respond, continued. “Your mom already said it was fine with her, when I asked her, but it has to be okay with you, too, since it means you’d have to give up your playroom for good instead of just the times I visit.”
“I don’t play in there anyway.” Mary Jane’s face was straight.
“But?”
The little girl shrugged. “Just…sometimes…Mom and me…but when you’re here…”
“You love having Aunt Marcie here,” Juliet said, confused and feeling slightly protective of her twin, who looked as if she might cry again. Juliet hadn’t expected any resistance at all from Mary Jane on this issue, which didn’t bode well for what was to come. “You can’t wait for her to visit.”
“I know,” Mary Jane said. “But…”
“What?” Juliet felt lost.
Mary Jane looked at her aunt, and then back at Juliet. “It’s just that, when you guys are together, you’re the pair. And then I’m…”
Understanding hit. “Oh, Mary Jane, come here,” she said, dragging her daughter across the blanket and onto her lap. “You and I will always be a pair. No matter who else is around or in our lives.”
Mary Jane stared up at her, the brown flecks in her eyes glistening.
“You’re going to grow up someday and maybe get married, and have kids, and the special love you and I share will still be right there. Unchanging. Do you understand?”
The little girl nodded, her sweet dark curls jostling against her cheeks.
“You are my daughter, flesh of my flesh, heart of my heart. And nothing, not even death, will change that. Ever. Got it?”
“Yes.” Mary Jane was still subdued.
“And we’ll always have our time, just you and me,” Juliet continued, finding words from someplace. “While Aunt Marcie lives with us, you can pick a night of the week, or a weekend day, or both, and it’ll be just the two of us.”
Looking over the child’s head, Juliet caught an expression of longing—and fear—on her twin’s face. Was Marcie imagining a similar moment, with her child in her lap needing assurance and love?
“And
