The Swallow's Nest

She followed Graham through the house, through a kitchen piled with dirty dishes, and into the sunroom. She thought the room must have been an addition because she didn’t remember it from her last visit. It was small but flooded with light, and the tropical-style furniture, old-fashioned rattan with a glass table on a coral stand, probably made Lilia feel right at home. She picked up a floral cushion from the floor and placed it on the love seat before she sat.

Graham dropped down to a chair in the corner and closed his eyes. He looked so beaten. She searched for something to say.

“You cried for the first three months of your life. Even a professional baby nurse wasn’t sure what to do with you. And me? I felt so completely inept. It seemed like I should know the magic key, that you should have emerged with instructions. Everybody told me not to worry, that crying was normal, but I was sure it was my own fault. Something I’d eaten in pregnancy, a glass of wine I had before I realized you were on the way. Bad genes.”

At that he opened his eyes. “Really? Bad genes? I thought the Randolphs and the Grahams were perfect in every way, that you and my father thought I was some sort of genetic mutation.”

“Not even close to being perfect.”

“There’s nothing you can do here to help. I have to deal with it. I brought this on myself.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Why?”

“Maybe there’s something I can do.”

“Unless you can zoom back in time and keep me from acting on the worst impulse I’ve ever had, then no.”

“You had an affair?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Nothing that interesting. A one-night stand. Right between what sounded like a death sentence and chemo.”

“Oh, Graham...” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Toby is the result. As you can imagine, Lilia is not happy about it.”

“She’s gone?”

“In Kapa’a with her family. I don’t know if she’ll be back for more than packing and shipping.”

She wanted to be angry at Graham’s wife. He was still recovering, and Lilia had abandoned him to handle everything on his own. But how could Ellen fault her? For the past year her daughter-in-law had shouldered every possible burden, with no help from anyone except the long-distance support of her own family.

“Did you really think you could keep the baby a secret from Lilia? Or were you waiting until you felt you could cope with the fallout?”

“I don’t know, Mother. I was trying to stay alive. Half the time I was so sick I couldn’t remember where the bathroom was.”

“And you were ashamed. You’re a good man. You would be.”

“You have no idea what this kind of shame feels like.”

She did, but it wasn’t helpful to admit that now. She was saved from trying, because a wail began somewhere in the distance. She put out her hand when Graham started to rise. “He’s upstairs?”

“A friend gave me some kind of contraption for him to sleep in. He’s in our room.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Do you know what to do?”

“Has it changed that much in thirty years?”

“Did you know what to do then?”

The question should have hurt, but both of them knew that Graham’s childhood had been managed by competent professionals, and she had looked on from the sidelines. “I do know how to change a diaper.”

“I think he looks like me.”

“Then he’s a beautiful baby.”

“He should have dark hair and brown eyes like the mother I didn’t give him.”

“I’ll bring him down. Will he need a bottle?”

“I’ll get one ready.”

The upstairs must have been expanded in her years away because the wail was coming from a room she didn’t remember. She followed the sound, opened the door and saw a small mesh-sided crib beside a queen-size bed. She picked up a beautiful hand-stitched quilt from the floor and folded it carefully, setting it on a chair before she dared go to the baby.

And then it was like looking at the infant Graham again.

She reached down and scooped him up, holding him against her breasts. Time stood still, although the baby didn’t. He arched his tiny back and screamed, just the way his father had.

“Well,” she said when she could speak, “Hello, Toby. I’m your grandmother.”

The baby was not impressed. She laughed. “I know. I know!” She looked around and saw a box of diapers on the floor. She set him carefully in the center of the queen bed, grabbed a baby blanket from the floor and tucked it under him before she stripped off his little footie pajamas, then took out a diaper. He screamed as she changed him, but she hummed loudly, and she thought that the screaming paused from time to time as he listened.

His clothes were dry, so she pulled them back on and folded the blanket snugly around him until he looked like a burrito. She smiled and kissed his forehead. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Downstairs she found her son with a bottle ready. “When was the last one?” she asked.

“When he was hungry.”

“They always seem hungry when they’re screaming, but overfeeding can cause problems, too.”

“So I’m told.”

“Good. You have help?”

“I have a few friends who are still speaking to me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“The baby’s mother?”

“Is not among them.”

“You haven’t spoken to her?”

“She won’t take calls or texts from me. She probably feels like she’s on vacation.”

He stretched out his arms, but she shook her head. “Let me.” She held out a hand for the bottle. He shrugged and gave it to her.

She settled Toby into her arms, propping him carefully because she remembered being told that keeping the head high might help. Toby sucked at the bottle’s nipple like he hadn’t been fed in weeks.

“He’s beautiful, and yes, he looks remarkably like his father. I never quite knew what to do with you, but I did appreciate what a gorgeous little boy you were.”

“Why did you have me?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

It took her a while to answer. Toby had taken enough formula that she decided to burp him, despite his protests. Frequent burping was something else she remembered. “I wanted to feel connected to somebody. I saw women with their husbands and children and knew they had something I didn’t. Your father was always busy—”

“Not to mention rigid and controlling.”

“Let’s not talk about that.”

“Why start now?” He closed his eyes again.

“I believed having you would make us a real family.”

“Sorry it didn’t work.”

“Graham, I was never sorry you were my son. And that’s the truth. But I’m also not sorry I didn’t give you a brother or sister.” She didn’t go on. She knew she didn’t have to.

After a loud burp Toby settled back to his bottle and opened his eyes to stare at her. She smiled at him. He smiled back, and the nipple fell out of his mouth. He wrinkled his little face to cry, but she slid it back in.

“He smiled at me!”

“Aren’t you the lucky one.” Graham didn’t sound quite as cynical as he had.

“I feel lucky. A baby’s smile is magic.” She looked at her son, although pulling her gaze from her grandson was hard. “This is going to get better. His nervous system is going to mature. Pretty soon he’s going to seem like a real person to you.”

He surprised her. “How can I blame you for having me after what I’ve done?”

She didn’t know how to answer, but Graham’s question almost sounded like absolution, like he might actually forgive her for being such a distant figure in his life. In the end she shook her head. “I wish I could do more.”

“I don’t want help. I’ll manage.”

“And Lilia? Is there any way you can make this up to her?”

“Can you think of a way?”

He didn’t expect an answer; she knew that. But she gave him one anyway. “You know I never really approved of your marriage.”

“Yes, for some reason you didn’t think Lilia was good enough for me. When the opposite was clearly true.”

She knew better than to address that since whatever she said would make her sound racist and undemocratic, although she was sure she was neither. Instead she moved the discussion sideways. “I can’t help you with that. I’ve never felt close to her, and I probably never will. I felt I lost you for good once you found her.”

“What exactly did you lose?”

“And I’ve always felt she prodded you into confronting your father the way you did. He gave you a job, a future at Randolph Group, and instead of listening to him and following his lead, you went out on your own and brought a stain on all of us.”

“I took the truth to the places where something could be done about it.”

“Your father doesn’t forgive easily.”

“I knew that when I did what I had to.”

She wondered, with Lilia out of the picture, if a miracle might happen. “This could be a time, Graham, when Douglas might soften a little. If you tell him you made a mistake and you’re sorry, he might be willing to let bygones be bygones. Toby is his grandson, perhaps the only grandchild he’ll ever have, and even your father has a sentimental streak.”

“I’m not sorry, and I didn’t make a mistake. Not that time, at least.”

“Is it beyond you to say so, even if it’s not precisely true? Is it beyond you to say it to assure this baby’s future?”

Graham was silent so long she thought he might be mulling over the idea. But when he spoke she realized how wrong she had been.

“I hope my son has a long, happy future with me guiding his steps. And if she can ever forgive me, I hope he’ll have a future with Lilia as his mother.” His voice hardened. “But I would apply for food stamps, Mother, I would stand in bread lines before I would allow my father to sink his talons into anybody in my family, especially Toby. I will never humble myself in front of a man without an ounce of humility or goodwill in his soul.”

As if his own words had spurred him to action, he got up and held out his arms for the baby. “Feel free to tell him I said so.”

7

Blake’s “villa” overlooked a golf course, which didn’t surprise Marina. The day they’d met waiting in line at a popular restaurant downtown, he had been dressed in a bright blue polo shirt with the Pebble Beach logo. Three months into a pregnancy she regretted, she had started an idle conversation with the attractive older man who had lost none of his graying dark hair and held himself like a soldier. They’d cut their mutual wait time by taking a table together, and she’d learned that Blake was adjusting to being a widower. He had seemed lonely, in spite of admitting to a new romantic interest. Before parting, they’d exchanged phone numbers. “Just to chat.”

In the following months they had chatted occasionally, talking about everything, except her pregnancy. She hadn’t told him about the baby, preferring to pretend to herself, as well as to him, that she was carefree and single. After all, who did it hurt? But a month after Toby’s birth, he had invited her to dinner. The new girlfriend was out of his life, and by then, Graham was definitely out of hers.

The community where he lived was divided into villages sprawling over land where a vineyard and winery once stood, and his village was near tennis courts and the clubhouse restaurant. The villa, while small, was still three times larger than Marina’s apartment, with every possible amenity.

Blake fell into the amenity category.

This morning Marina woke slowly and saw the sun was high in the sky. She could hardly remember days when she had slept until she was ready to wake up, but she was rapidly getting used to it. Even before the baby she’d needed to be at her job early, and weekends had been filled with shopping and cleaning or helping Deedee with some project she couldn’t complete on her own. But this morning no alarm had awakened her, and now Blake stood beside the bed they’d shared for a week with a cup of steaming coffee in his hands.

“Sleeping Beauty,” he said fondly.

She slid up to a sitting position and pulled the top sheet over her breasts before taking the cup. On the evening she had volunteered to meet him here, Blake had invited her to stay the night, and she had never gone home. Although he had taken her on a surprise shopping trip during her second day in residence, she hadn’t bothered with a nightgown.

She took her first sip and realized he’d added cream, exactly the way she liked it. She tried to remember when a man had remembered even the important details about her, much less what she put in her coffee.

“This is such a lovely treat. Thank you.” She lifted the cup to her lips. “How long have you been up?”

He smiled, teeth white against tanned skin. “I had a little work to do, so I got up at seven.”

Blake was semiretired from a company that had something to do with network processors. He’d started the business himself, and his two sons—one of whom was a year older than Marina—were now in charge. Blake still went to his headquarters occasionally and worked each morning on a laptop in the kitchen dining nook. If he thought about work when they were together, he never let on.

Cream in her coffee was just one example of the attention he had lavished on her.

She patted the place beside her, and he sat. He was wearing khaki slacks and one of his endless supply of polo shirts. His cheeks were ruddy from shaving, and his brown eyes sparkled. He smelled like soap and aftershave, and she wasn’t at all sorry to wake in his bed.

“I have to go back to work on Monday,” she said, “so I’ll need to go home this afternoon and get all my things ready. But haven’t we had a good time?”

“You’re sure you have to go?”

She pursed her lips seductively. “I’m a working girl.”

“How well do you like your job?”

From the beginning he’d seemed interested, so she’d already told him a little about her position with a building materials supplier, about the way she facilitated sales and analyzed data, about the endless trips to construction sites with promotional items and a ready smile.

She answered truthfully. “I like putting together sales presentations. I like traveling to job sites but not the waiting around.”

“Are you looking for something else?”

She wondered if Blake was going to offer her a job at his company, and then she wondered how his sons would like that. “Right after college I got a great job in public relations in LA, and I loved it.”

She didn’t add that even more, she had liked the fact that single executives had been plentiful, and she’d dated her share. She’d been in no hurry, looking at net worth, future prospects and work habits before she went on to appearance, intelligence and humor. She hadn’t viewed her assessments as particularly calculating. She had simply done for herself what parents in other cultures did for their daughters.

Blake still seemed interested. “Why did you quit?”

She’d quit because Deedee had suffered a heart attack, and of course, Marina’s brothers hadn’t lifted a finger to help. She’d left behind a new lover who owned a chain of blue chip financial planning firms and called a congressman from northern California “Cousin.”

She bent the truth. “I missed my family. And it’s no sacrifice to live in San Jose, is it?” She smiled. “Just think, I never would have met you.”

“My lucky break.”

“What do you have planned for the day?”

“Bridge at noon.”

“Are you going to teach me to play?”

“You’re too smart. As it is I’m going to have to watch myself on the golf course.”

He had escorted her to the Par 3 course yesterday and given basic instructions. She’d realized the real meaning of senior living when he’d introduced her to his golfing buddies who had looked her over the way a starving man looks at a steak dinner. Blake was just old enough to be her father, but his friends were straying into grandfather territory.

“I probably like being outside or in bed better than I’d like being at a card table anyway.” She winked at him.

His eyes lit approvingly. “Do you like it here?”

“Why wouldn’t I? The place is gorgeous.”

“Sometimes I miss my house. Four bedrooms and a view of the mountains. My wife’s garden was her life. After Franny died I couldn’t stand to see it going to seed.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

“I wanted something smaller. Everything I could possibly want is here.” He had long, slender fingers, like a musician or an artist. He touched her hair and pushed a strand off her cheek, his fingertips lingering. “Especially now that you’re here, too.”

“I’ll come back if you want me. Maybe on weekends?”

“You could move in, Rina. There’s room.”

She took a moment to imagine life here. She would still have to keep her apartment, in case Blake got tired of her. She’d have the usual bills, although he always paid when they went out. After Toby’s birth he’d taken her to the symphony, expensive restaurants, a play. Deedee had been persuaded to take Toby for those hours, and Marina had wanted to forget everything about her real life and pretend she was the woman she’d been before the pregnancy.

Somehow, because she hadn’t wanted to scare him away, even then she hadn’t gotten around to telling Blake she was a new mother.

For a week now she’d carefully schooled herself not to think about the baby. Graham’s frantic texts—unanswered—had assured her that Toby was still alive and screaming. She wondered where Lilia fit into that scenario, or if she even did. Since Marina didn’t want to think about any of it, after one text too many she had blocked Graham’s number.

Did she feel guilty? If she did, guilt was buried under layers of disappointment and anger. She had fulfilled her part of their bargain, but Graham had not. Now the baby she had never wanted was his to fix. And okay, that made her a bad person, or at least a bad mother. But sadly she had never felt like a mother, just an overworked babysitter.

The whole situation had finally come to a head one night on one of her marathon phone calls with Blake. Realizing she couldn’t continue to keep such a big secret, she had finally broached the subject of children. He’d confessed he was glad child rearing was behind him. His sons were adults, and he wasn’t sorry they were.

She’d hung up once more without telling him about Toby, but in that final week before Graham’s party, when her thoughts about the baby had frightened her, she’d realized that, like Blake, she needed to put child rearing behind her, too.

“You could, you know,” he prompted, “move in with me.”

She smiled in answer. Did she love him? Of course not, and besides, what did love have to do with it? But money and security? Those were different matters. She liked him. Wasn’t that a good enough start?

“I would like to live here with you,” she said, feeling her way. “But I really can’t afford to, Blake. I’d still have all my expenses and a longer commute. And with my hectic work schedule, we wouldn’t see that much of each other, anyway. But when I’m free, I hope we’ll get together.”

“I like having you right here.”

“And I like being here.” She set down her coffee and held out her arms, letting the sheet drift to her waist. He might be dressed already, but they could fix that. Blake was past fifty, but his libido hadn’t suffered. He was an enthusiastic lover and surprisingly intent on making sure she found as much pleasure as he did.

And every time, he seemed to get his way.

“One for the road?” She winked at him.

“You could be the death of me.”

She pulled him closer. “Oh, I don’t think so, but what a way to go.”

8

Feathering your nest with imagination and love

MARCH 10TH:

I’m home in Kauai after an unexpected challenge in my life. Your patience during my absence means everything to me.

Aloha, Lilia

In the days since she’d left California, Lilia hadn’t answered any communication from Graham, or Carrick, either. Carrick probably had been as much in the dark about Toby as she had. She believed he was furious at Graham. But the two men had been friends since they began rooming together as young teens at a New England boarding school. Since then Carrick had proven his loyalty over and over.

Of course so had she, and look where that had gotten her.

Today she planned to think of other things. Her parents were having a party in her honor, and now her mother, Nalani, came out to the yard behind the Swallows’ plantation-style house carrying platters of food to the picnic tables. The family had given Lilia a week to recover, but everyone knew the time to publicly welcome her home had come, whether she felt up to it or not. She couldn’t hurt the people who loved and wanted the best for her.

Unlike the man who had hurt her.

When family came for a meal, people sat on the lanai, in the kitchen or in the yard, wherever they could squeeze in. Here the outdoor tables were shaded by a spectacular Poinciana tree which in summer would set the yard ablaze with brilliant red flowers.

“You feeling more rested after your nap?” Nalani asked.

“A little.” Lilia hadn’t napped as much as collapsed in a lounge chair after breakfast. She was fairly certain she hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time since her arrival. She was still too angry, too torn, and despite herself, in the deepest part of her heart, too worried about her husband and his son. Some habits were hard to break, and she’d spent a year thinking of little other than Graham’s survival.

Nalani read between the lines. “If you disappear after you’ve greeted everybody, no one will ask where you are.”

Nodding her gratitude, Lilia took two of the platters of her mother’s shoyu chicken and set one on each end of two wooden tables placed end to end. Cabbage salad topped with crunchy ramen noodles, macaroni and cheese dotted with Spam—a local favorite—and a platter of fresh fruit had preceded them. Steaming bowls of rice would be set out when the family began to arrive in a few minutes. Identical bowls adorned two tables inside, and her brothers’ families would bring their own additions, as would the relatives and neighbors who came and went through the evening. Kai had agreed to sing and play, probably with friends from his band, and music magically turned the welcome home party into a luau. Children would chase each other, too excited to sit and eat. Grown-ups would “talk story,” which was local pidgin for chatting.

“Talk stink” was trash talking, and considering that by now everyone already knew why Lilia had come home, there would be plenty of that, too.

The usual family gathering.

The preparations reminded her of the party she had thrown for Graham. She had learned to entertain from her mother, who loved having guests as much as she did. Nalani was short and plump with a round face and shining salt-and-pepper hair that just cleared her earlobes. While Lilia most resembled her father, the two women were much alike in every other way.

She took a step backwards and nearly squashed a chicken parade, a hen and three chicks who were cleaning up crumbs behind her. Ellen had come to the island for Lilia and Graham’s wedding and shrieked when a rooster pecked at her sandaled toe. That memory brought the first smile of the day.

“You know we’ll have chaos, like usual,” Nalani said from the other side of the table. “You’re ready?”

“I’ve missed everybody. I’ll never stay away this long again.”

“Sounds like you’re planning to go back home then.”

“I’ll be back and forth.” There was no point in pretending. She hadn’t decided much, but she had decided that. “My life’s in California now.”

“Even without Graham?”

“I guess our friends will choose sides. But enough will choose me. I won’t be alone.”

“Then you’ve decided to leave him?”