now.
She tossed the pillow aside, stood up and headed to the bathroom to gather her toiletries.
“Maybe it’s not as bad as I thought,” Aunt Viv said. “Her doctor is probably taking precautions.”
Her aunt was successfully baiting her. “That doesn’t mean she shouldn’t follow her doctor’s orders.”
“You need to come home, Ashleigh. Make sure Paula does what she’s told.”
Tears threatened and speaking was difficult. “I’m already packed.” Ashleigh zipped her suitcase and wheeled it to the living room.
“Really?” Aunt Viv didn’t sound too surprised. Wasn’t that why she’d called Ashleigh? “That’s wonderful. I’m sure Paula will appreciate it.”
Ashleigh doubted that, but she didn’t care how Paula felt about it. The only thing that mattered was making sure her sister didn’t do anything stupid to threaten the precious life she carried.
Even if it meant Ashleigh would have to face everyone and everything she had left behind, including Kyle, the ex-husband she’d once loved with every cell of her being.
* * *
FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER hanging up with Aunt Viv, Ashleigh was ready to go. How much gas was in her car? She hadn’t paid attention after returning home from the airport. Could she make it out of town before filling up? The drive to Grand Oaks would take about two hours.
Two hours until she came face-to-face with her past.
Maybe she could see about hiring someone to help her sister once she got to town. Paula likely wouldn’t want Ashleigh around very long. Their last blowup had been a big one.
She took a final look around her apartment. Lights off, her single plant watered, thermostat set. She’d lived alone for the past two years—no pets, not even a goldfish—because she traveled so much for her job. And because she preferred it that way.
Ashleigh scooped up the pile of unopened mail from the kitchen counter and dumped it into her laptop bag, which also held her work folders. She needed to consider ways to placate both her clients and her boss without taking an actual leave of absence.
She locked her apartment door behind her, thumped her suitcase down the two flights of stairs to the building’s entrance and loaded her car.
Ashleigh’s cell phone slid out of her purse and lay staring up at her from the passenger seat. Should she call Paula to let her know she was coming? She tossed the phone back into her purse.
She wouldn’t give her sister the opportunity to tell her not to come. Ashleigh would never forgive herself if something went horribly wrong with Paula’s pregnancy.
Ashleigh shuddered at the thought and turned up the volume on the country music radio station, hoping to blast her own painful memories out of her head.
The April afternoon was overcast and traffic heading south on I-95 was heavy but moved at a steady pace to the I-85 exit. Before she knew it, she’d left the interstates for the country roads she knew so well.
The closer she got to Grand Oaks, the more frequently her painful memories came to the forefront of her mind. Though she and Paula had said such ugly things to each other the last time they’d spoken, Ashleigh dreaded seeing her ex-husband more. Avoiding him would be difficult enough in a town of three thousand, but he would almost definitely be a frequent visitor at Paula’s. Could she endure the inevitable mental and physical tolls?
She consciously relaxed her death grip on the steering wheel.
Aunt Viv had said Paula was renting the Dormans’ old house instead of staying in base housing in Norfolk, in order to be closer to family while Scott was at sea. Two blocks from her destination, Ashleigh was again tempted to call her sister. Maybe a phone conversation would make it easier for Paula to accept Ashleigh’s help rather than her just barging her way into her sister’s life.
Ashleigh pushed the idea aside again. Paula had thought nothing of interfering in Ashleigh’s life when she’d had marital problems. Just let Paula try to stop her.
This time it was Ashleigh’s turn to butt into her sister’s life.
* * *
PAULA LAY ON her left side, obeying her doctor’s order of bed rest, when there was a rap on the front door of her modest Cape Cod rental home.
The door squeaked as it opened and she heard the voice she’d been dreading. “Paula?” Ashleigh had made record time.
Aunt Vivian had called earlier to say Ashleigh was coming, but Paula hadn’t expected her sister to arrive until early evening or later. Paula hadn’t wanted her to come at all.
She had several friends in town who’d already stepped up with food and offers of help with errands and watching the boys. She could manage without her sister, but Aunt Viv refused to tell Ashleigh not to come. Why hadn’t Paula contacted Ashleigh herself?
“Paula?” Her older sister shouted this time.
Paula took a deep, bracing breath. “In here,” she called from her first-floor bedroom.
With each approaching foot-pad, Paula’s pulse quickened and her anxiety grew. The last time she and Ashleigh had spoken—correction, screamed at each other—had been right before Ashleigh left Grand Oaks for good more than two years ago.
Her sister stopped at the bedroom doorway, dressed in impeccably fitted jeans and a loose top cinched at her narrow waist. Her thick, blond hair was caught in a casual knot at the back of her head.
In other words, perfect as usual.
“How are you feeling?” The strap of Ashleigh’s purse slipped from her shoulder to her elbow and her medical bag hung from her left hand. No “hello” or “hey there.” Ashleigh spoke as if Paula were her patient rather than her only sibling.
“I’m fine.” Paula wasn’t about to list the multiple annoyances she experienced because of her pregnancy. She and Ashleigh might not see eye to eye on certain things, but complaining about her swollen feet, lack of energy and backaches, as well as this stupid bed-rest thing, would just be mean.
Paula soothed her baby bump, imagining what her independent doctor-sister was thinking.
Something in the neighborhood of How could one person be so needy?
Ashleigh had always been the perfect one. Voted head cheerleader, always made straight A’s, dated and eventually married the star quarterback, went to a great college and then entered medical school. She’d even survived multiple miscarriages and a divorce, only to snap right back to her perfect life.
Then there was Paula, the little sister who’d struggled with acne in high school and could barely do a proper cartwheel—forget perform a respectable cheer. Instead of finishing college, she’d married Scott when she got pregnant with Mark. Now her husband was deployed and she could barely take care of her family because this surprise third pregnancy had her bedridden in torn pajama pants tied under her expanding belly and an old T-shirt of Scott’s.
She blinked to clear the moisture building in
