Chapter 12 - The Morning After the StormBy morning, Newport looked bruised.
Branches littered the street. A fishing boat had broken loose from one dock. The bakery sign hung crooked. Harbor & Page Books smelled like rainwater, sawdust, and coffee.
Daniel was outside helping Ruth’s neighbor clear debris when Amy came downstairs.
He wore yesterday’s suit pants, a borrowed sweatshirt from Ruth that said READ BANNED BOOKS, and muddy shoes.
Claire saw him through the window and sighed.
“I hate character development when it’s visible.”
Amy stood beside her, watching Daniel lift a fallen branch with an elderly man.
“He looks ridiculous.”
“Good. Humility should have a wardrobe.”
Ruth came in carrying a toolbox. “He fixed the back step.”
Claire narrowed her eyes. “Without being asked?”
“Men occasionally evolve when cornered by consequences.”
Amy said nothing.
Daniel looked up then, as if he felt her watching.
For a second, their eyes met through the glass.
He did not smile.
He did not wave.
He simply nodded and went back to work.
That restraint followed Amy around all morning.
At noon, Dr. Parker arrived to check Amy’s blood pressure because the storm had closed half the roads and Ruth had called her “just to be safe.”
Daniel stayed downstairs.
He did not ask to be included.
Amy noticed.
Dr. Parker noticed Amy noticing.
“Stress lower today,” the doctor said, removing the cuff.
Amy gave a humorless laugh. “That seems unlikely.”
“Bodies are strange. Sometimes the presence of a problem becomes less stressful than the anticipation of it.”
Amy looked toward the floorboards.
Dr. Parker packed her bag. “You don’t have to decide anything today.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because you keep acting like survival requires immediate decisions.”
After the doctor left, Amy found Daniel in the back room repairing a shelf.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
He turned. “I know.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because it’s broken and I know how.”
She crossed her arms. “You also know how to hire people.”
“I’m trying not to outsource everything that matters.”
That answer was unfairly good.
Amy hated that.
She looked at the half-repaired shelf. “You’re putting that bracket on backward.”
Daniel glanced at it.
Then at her.
Then back at it.
“You’re right.”
“I usually am.”
A faint smile touched his mouth. “I’m learning that late.”
Silence fell.
Not comfortable.
But not sharp either.
Daniel set down the screwdriver.
“I booked a room at the inn once the roads clear. I won’t stay near you unless you approve.”
Amy nodded.
“Good.”
He looked at her carefully. “May I ask one thing that is not about us?”
She hesitated. “What?”
“Do you have everything you need for the pregnancy?”
The old Amy would have said yes automatically.
The new Amy considered lying, then didn’t.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel absorbed that.
“Would it help if Margaret came?”
Amy looked up quickly.
“Here?”
“She wants to. She won’t if you say no.”
Amy looked down.
Margaret had kept her promise. Margaret had not told Daniel the address. Margaret had fired Vanessa. Margaret had mailed the letter without commentary.
And Margaret had held the ring like it was a wound.
“I’ll think about it.”
Daniel nodded. “That’s enough.”
Later, Claire cornered him behind the bookstore while Amy rested upstairs.
“Listen carefully,” she said. “If this is an act, I will ruin you with the passion of a woman who has had too much coffee and no fear of lawsuits.”
Daniel looked at her seriously. “Fair.”
“I’m not joking.”
“I know.”
Claire studied him. “Do you want her back because you love her, or because you hate being left?”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“A month ago, I wouldn’t have known the difference.”
“And now?”
“Now I know loving her may mean accepting that she never comes back.”
Claire stared at him for a long moment.
Then she pointed two fingers at her eyes and then at him.
“I am watching you.”
“I assumed.”
That evening, the roads reopened.
Daniel came upstairs to say goodbye.
Amy stood near the window.
“I’ll be at the Harbor Inn until legal advises otherwise,” he said. “If that makes you uncomfortable, I’ll go to Portland.”
“Newport is not mine,” Amy replied.
“No. But your peace matters more than my convenience.”
She looked at him then.
“Who are you?”
Pain crossed his face, but he accepted it.
“Someone who should have become this before you had to leave.”
Amy looked away.
The baby kicked gently.
Daniel noticed her hand move but said nothing.
At the door, he paused.
“I meant what I said in the letter.”
Amy’s throat tightened.
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
He left.
Amy watched him cross the street in Ruth’s ridiculous sweatshirt, climb into the waiting car, and disappear toward the inn.
Claire came to stand beside her.
“Well?”
Amy leaned her forehead against the cool glass.
“He’s changing.”
Claire nodded slowly.
“That doesn’t mean I have to go back.”
“No,” Claire said. “It means your choices are getting harder.”
May you like
Amy closed her eyes.
Outside, the harbor glittered after the storm, broken things floating on the surface, sunlight touching them anyway.
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