Diane Chamberlain - The Midwife's Confession

I spotted the dogs first. Shadow and Blue bounded in and out of the shallow water, chasing each other across the sand with an energy they never displayed at home. Then I saw Ted and Jenny walking a distance behind the dogs. Ted made an expansive motion with his arms as though he was illustrating the enormity of the ocean. Or maybe, I thought, he was describing his love for Jenny. I’d never felt closer to Ted than I had in the past few days. We were on the same team. “You’re our daughter,” he said to Jenny with such force that no one could doubt that he meant it. “Do you think a DNA test can change that?”

As they came closer to the house, I watched Ted take Jenny’s hand. They swung their arms back and forth between them like they were kids. Like nothing bad had happened or ever could happen. Like our lives hadn’t taken as grim a turn as I’d thought. Watching them, I felt an unexpected surge of happiness.

I opened the sliding glass door and stepped out on the deck. I waved to them and they waved back, and I couldn’t wait for them to come into the cottage. Tonight we’d watch a movie after dinner. Maybe play a game. There’d be time later to make sense of our new and uncertain future. All I knew was that we’d be facing it together.

My husband.

Myself.

And my daughter.

EPILOGUE

Tara

Wilmington, North Carolina

March 2011

The cleansing of Noelle’s cottage is Emerson’s idea, and I’m so glad she thought of it. I pull up in front of the house and take in the view. The cottage, now yellow with white trim and black shutters, is adorable. Two white rockers sit on the small porch and the yard is filled with azaleas ready to pop with color.

Suzanne is moving into the cottage next week. She knows nothing about the cleansing. She’s never seemed the least bit concerned that Noelle killed herself in the house, but we’re certain Noelle would have approved of what we’re doing here today.

Emerson’s car is in the driveway, and I park across the street. I’ve been inside the cottage a couple of times since its transformation. The kitchen and bathroom have been gutted and refurbished, the floors refinished, and the walls in every room painted in warm Tuscan colors, as Suzanne suggested. It took forever—Emerson had other things on her mind—but it’s finished now and ready for Suzanne to give it a new life.

Emerson greets me in the kitchen. “You’ll take the east corner,” she says as she hands me a bowl containing a smoldering bundle of sage. A tendril of smoke rises into the air above it. She points toward the second bedroom near the rear of the house and instructs me what to do.

Tonight, after the cleansing of the house is complete, Grace and Jenny will begin moving the bags of donated baby items into the second bedroom with some help from Cleve, who’s home on spring break. I can’t go so far as to say that Grace is over Cleve. I swear I can sense her heart beating a little faster when he’s around. But she started going out with a friend of Jenny’s boyfriend, Devon, and she tells me he’s “okay,” which I think means she likes him quite a bit. Grace is never going to be an open book, like me. I’ve learned that the harder I dig, the more she withdraws. But if I wait, if I’m there for her the way Sam used to be without pushing or prodding, she eventually turns to me. Some days it feels like waiting for paint to dry. Every shared confidence, though, is precious. For an entire day, I was unsure who she was and how we fit together. Ironic that the day I feared I was no longer her mother was the day I learned how to mother her.

Jenny was not a match for Haley, but Haley was able to receive her transplant in January after a donor was found through the global database. Her recovery has been extremely difficult, filled with uncertainty, infections and one hospitalization after another. But she’s at home now, at least for a while, and she and Jenny Skype every day. Every minute, according to Grace, who’s a little jealous of the relationship forming between Jenny and her sister. Emerson has her own jealousy to contend with, but she’s learning to share Jenny with Anna, as we all are, and she’s trying hard to expand her vision of family to include Anna, Haley and Bryan.

Now Emerson stands on a stepladder to take out the batteries from the smoke detector. Then she lights her own bowl of sage from the candle burning on the counter. She blows it out to let it smolder. “I just hope we don’t burn the place down,” she says as she heads for the room that had been Noelle’s bedroom.

In the second bedroom, I walk in a large circle, stopping to fill the corners with the aromatic smoke. At the windows, I look out at the garden, where daffodils and crocuses seem to have sprung up overnight. We don’t know for sure and we never will, but we believe we understand the love Noelle had for her garden and the birdbath with its statue of the little girl. We thought back, remembering that she first planted the garden shortly after Emerson gave birth to her daughter. Noelle had never shown any interest in her yard before then, but she tended that garden with so much love. Almost the sort of love you’d lavish on a child. A niece, perhaps.

I believe that Sam knew. I believe that one day, when Noelle could no longer keep this final, most devastating secret to herself, she asked Sam to meet her someplace where none of us would bump into them. Someplace like Wrightsville Beach. Maybe she told him everything, client to attorney. She must have told him about the garden, prompting him to question me about it a short time later. What’s with Noelle’s garden? Out of the blue.

Through the bedroom window, I see Emerson walk toward the garden. I watch as she plucks a few dead leaves from the birdbath, then rests her hand on the head of the little bronze girl. I fill with love for her. I carry the bowl of sage into the bathroom and run a little water onto it, then rest it on the counter. I want to be with Emerson. In this year of changes, only one thing has been certain and solid, and that’s the bond I have with my best friend. I walk outside to help her prepare the garden to welcome the spring.

READER’s GUIDE

Tara and Emerson have very different personalities, yet they’ve remained best friends for more than twenty years. What do you think drew them together initially? What keeps them together now?

Tara’s mother had a history of psychiatric problems. How has this shaped Tara as a mother? As a widow?

Imagine yourself in Noelle’s place when she learns that Emerson is her sister. Would you be able to keep that relationship to yourself for two decades? Do you think Noelle should have revealed the relationship to Emerson? Discuss the internal struggle you might have if you were in her position.

What was Sam’s attraction to two women as different as Tara and Noelle? Why do you think he chose Tara over Noelle?

Emerson values being liked above being ambitious and successful. This is typically a feminine trait and one that can often get in the way of advancing in a career. Yet Emerson, with her new café, Hot! , has clearly found a path to professional success without sacrificing her values. Why do you think she’s succeeded at this endeavor? How do you feel about the sometimes conflicting values of “being nice” versus “being ambitious”?

Grace is a strong introvert, while her mother is passionately extroverted. How do these differing personality traits affect their relationship?

Tara has enormous guilt over her feelings toward her former favorite student, Mattie Cafferty. Discuss how her relationship with Mattie may have impacted her relationship with Grace prior to Sam’s death.