don’t want an agency nurse’s aide,” Winnie said. “Think about this. You take care of my bedding, help me bathe, escort me to the bathroom, help me dress—we are intimate, you and me. If you couldn’t fit in with this odd crew I now call family—a daughter, a teacher, an old coach—I would have to look for someone else. I’m afraid you’re stuck with us.”
Three women Lin Su’s approximate age who were good friends and bonded in many ways were also all showing very nice baby bumps by mid-August. Grace, Iris and Peyton. Iris Sileski was the high school guidance counselor and had sold Grace the flower shop—they’d been friends since the day Grace arrived in Thunder Point a couple of years before. Peyton Grant, the town physician’s assistant who had conveniently wed the physician, made regular visits to check on Winnie’s health as did her husband, Scott. It was only natural, then, that there would be small and regular gatherings of those three—sometimes at the end of the day, sometimes for lunch, sometimes morning coffee, sometimes dinner. They were all due to give birth just before Christmas.
When they gathered in or near Winnie’s house, if Lin Su wasn’t busy, they pressed her to join them. Winnie very much enjoyed having them around, and with Lin Su’s or Grace’s help, Winnie could even join them if they met at Cooper’s bar or in town at the restaurant. Winnie even enjoyed brief trips to the diner, something that made her daughter howl with laughter, accusing that it must have been Winnie’s first diner experience ever.
“True, if it were my diner, it would be decorated far differently and would look more like a salon, but this is fine for me,” she said, lifting her perfect nose slightly. “For now.”
Lin Su knew it wasn’t the diner that drew Winnie and definitely not the decor—it was the women closer to her own age who tended to meet there from time to time. There was Carrie from the deli whose daughter, Gina, managed the diner on the day shift. Carrie’s best friends, Lou, a teacher, and Ray Anne, a local Realtor, were known to meet there, as well. Winnie never asked to be taken to the diner on a whim but if one of the women called or stopped by to say they were meeting for coffee and pie Winnie might ask to go. Better still, if they were meeting at Cliffhanger’s for a glass of wine, she was sure to make the effort, even if she had to impose on Troy or Mikhail to take her, even if she had to rely on her wheelchair for the outing.
“I’ve never had girlfriends before,” Winnie whispered to Lin Su. “You have no idea what a different experience this is for me.”
But Lin Su did know. Her own mother, Marilyn Simmons, would never hang out with a gaggle of women in a small-town diner. Marilyn was her adoptive mother. Her biological mother hadn’t survived long after her exodus from Vietnam, thus Lin Su’s adoption by an affluent white American couple from Boston at the age of three. They liked to refer to it as a compassionate adoption. Marilyn, wife of Gordon Simmons, a well-known attorney, fancied herself something of a socialite. Her biological daughters attended the best boarding schools and universities while she served on charity boards, played bridge, golf, attended prestigious events, supported political campaigns and shopped. No, she had never been seen in a diner with ordinary women.
That was yet another thing about Thunder Point that Lin Su immediately appreciated—people gathered without deference to class or status or income. She knew that Winnie was financially comfortable; most of her home health care patients had been. If they could afford to pay a salary and benefits to a private nurse, they had planned well. And Winnie did look fancier than the town women she’d meet for a coffee or a drink, but the women didn’t treat one another differently.
Lin Su would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to fall into familiarity and camaraderie with all of these women—the younger pregnant ones, the older ones she found to be settled and sage. But she was trying to maintain that professional distance that would ensure her job was safe and keep her from being disappointed when the day came that someone reminded her she was a servant. A well-educated and highly trained servant, but still...
Her biggest challenge of all was the triathlete next door. He frightened and intrigued her. He didn’t frighten her because there was anything wrong with him. Indeed, everything seemed too right. He reminded her of the young man she’d loved when she was in high school. The young man who had played rugby, graduated with honors, had a fancy family name and dated Lin Su for months. His parents were friendly with hers; Marilyn Simmons greatly admired the boy’s mother and was thrilled that they were dating. She whispered that it spoke well of them that they could accept an Asian girl as their son’s choice.
But when she had told him she was pregnant, he had said, “Sorry, baby, but I’m going to Princeton.”
She was standing on the deck with Winnie when she heard talking and laughter coming from the house next door, but there was no one on the deck. Winnie was sitting at the outdoor table enjoying the sunshine while she played solitaire to try to keep her fingers nimble. Lin Su looked over the deck rail and saw that Charlie was balanced atop one of Blake’s bikes while Blake appeared to be tightening something on the wheel. Then Blake stood up and Charlie took off down the beach road.
Like a bat out of hell.
Lin Su gasped. Her son flew on that bike. Flew as though he was racing!
“Winnie, will you be all right for a moment? I should talk to Mr. Smiley about Charlie riding.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m not going anyplace.”
“I’ll be right back,” Lin Su said, heading for the stairs to the beach. By the time she got to where Blake stood on the road, Charlie was out of sight across the beach.
“Mr. Smiley, it’s so nice of you to let Charlie have a turn on your bicycle. But maybe that’s not such a good idea.”
“It’s Blake. And why is that, Lin Su?”
“For one thing, it’s a very expensive bicycle. At least, that’s what Charlie tells me.”
“It is. It’s not my primary bike.” He tossed a tool in his open toolbox. “He’s safe. He’s wearing a helmet. We talked about the rules of the road and he understands.”
“Did Charlie happen to mention—he has asthma?”
“No. Is he on medication?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have an inhaler?”
“He’s supposed to have it with him at all times. And sometimes exertion brings on his asthma.”
Blake gave a little shrug. “Then if he gets winded, I guess he’ll stop.”
“Where is he going?”
“I have no idea, Lin Su. I told him not to be gone long. He really likes that bike. He’ll probably ride around awhile.”
“He could get too far away!” she said.
Blake wiped his hands on a rag and contemplated her. “He’s a big boy. He knows how to manage his asthma, doesn’t he?”
“Sometimes he’s not as careful as he should be!” she said emphatically.
Blake dropped a casual arm over her shoulders and turned her in the direction of the town across the bay. He pointed. “See that building over there?”
“Which building?” she asked.
“The one that
