The Motherhood Intervention: Book 3 in the Intervention Series Read online

  “Quite a brood you’ve got there,” she said as she walked in. “You really have your hands full.”

  “You know,” Summer said, “I read this article once where the writer was saying parents should answer, ‘Full of love!’ or ‘Full of joy!’ But you’re right. I do have my hands full.” She heard her voice crack and cleared her throat. “I’m not sure I can handle this.”

  “You’re a pro by now,” the nurse said, strapping the blood pressure cuff around Summer’s arm. “You’ll settle right in.”

  All at once, words started pouring out of Summer’s mouth. She told the nurse about Luke and his heart surgery, about how Willow had just resurfaced after fifteen years and how Summer was struggling to forgive her for being a terrible mother.

  Halfway through, Olivia started to cry, and the nurse took her, reswaddled her, and handed her back to Summer, all the while nodding or shaking her head where appropriate as she listened to Summer talk.

  “You do have a lot going on, honey,” she said when Summer wound down. She handed her a tissue, and Summer blew her nose loudly. “But you’ll be fine. We just carry on.” She shrugged. “That’s what we do. Still, I’m going to give you some pamphlets before you leave, okay? I’ll go get those now. Just some information about postpartum services.”

  Summer nodded, wiping her nose and dabbing at her eyes. The nurse paused in the doorway, then came back and wrapped Summer in a tight hug. “You’ll be fine, honey. Okay? I promise you.”

  She walked out, and almost bumped into Derek’s mom, Julie, who was coming in.

  “Oh, sweetheart, let me see that baby.”

  She took Olivia from Summer, and sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. “Beautiful,” she whispered as she admired her newest granddaughter. “Just gorgeous.”

  Then, she barked out a laugh. “Oh, what was I thinking?” She patted Summer’s leg. “You’re beautiful, too, sweetheart. Just like always.”

  Summer laughed, but the laughter dissolved into tears.

  “Why the long face?” Julie asked.

  Summer ran through her list of concerns in a manner much more organized than the spew she’d issued forth for the nurse. At first, Julie didn’t answer. She often liked to ponder troubles before offering advice or comfort.

  She rocked the baby, tapping her foot to some melody. Probably The Beatles, Summer thought. After the birth of each child, Julie selected a theme song from The Beatles’ repertoire to become that child’s theme song.

  Olivia’s should be “Help!”

  “Shut up, Winter,” Summer said quietly.

  For Sarah, Julie chose “I Saw Her Standing There.” Nate’s was “Here Comes the Sun,” and Luke’s was “Hey, Jude.” Hannah’s was “I Want to Hold Your Hand.”

  “You know, honey,” Julie said after a long silence, “it wouldn’t hurt to reconnect with your mom.”

  Summer took in a breath to respond, but Julie held up a hand. “Just hear me out. We don’t always get second chances in this life. I believe Willow is here for a reason. You may not be able to see it just yet, but I’m sure it’s there. You don’t have to answer right now. I don’t want to upset you while you’re recovering from childbirth. But I don’t want you to do something rash and regret it later. You might not get another chance to make it right.”

  Summer nodded.

  Julie said, “And I think Miss Olivia’s song will be, ‘She Loves You.’”

  ***

  Delaney and Josie arrived that afternoon.

  “I just couldn’t help myself,” Josie said, rushing into the room and thrusting a gift bag at Summer. “I bought her a coming home dress. I know I already gave you the gender neutral sleeper, but you know I can’t resist dressing up a baby girl.”

  “I smuggled in some champagne, too,” Delaney said, holding up a huge purse. “Let’s hurry up and open it while it’s still cold.” She glanced behind her at the open door. “And before an enforcer comes in and confiscates it.”

  Summer oohed and ahed over the lacy purple dress, and sipped the champagne like the luxury it was, and admired Olivia along with the girls, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety that was building somewhere deep in her core.

  “You look exhausted,” Delaney said.

  “Shut up, Dee. Of course she does,” Josie said. “She just gave birth, like, eighteen hours ago.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Delaney said. “I was going to say, why don’t you take a little nap, and we’ll sit here and hold Olivia?”

  Summer nodded. “That sounds divine,” she said.

  Only, she found that when she closed her eyes, she couldn’t sleep.

  ***

  When Summer gave up and opened her eyes, pretending to be waking from a nice nap, Josie was rocking Olivia, whispering to her in Spanish.

  “I hope you’re not telling her all my secrets,” Summer said.

  Josie laughed. “No. Just imparting all my girl wisdom.”

  “Don’t you think she’s too young to hear about boys?”

  “Speaking of secrets,” Delaney said from her spot on the couch. “What is up with your mother?”

  “That’s the last thing I want to talk about right now,” Summer said. She sighed. “Besides. I don’t know how to answer.”

  “I think you need to reconcile with her,” Josie said.

  Summer shook her head. She could feel her hackles rising and it was everything she could do not to lash out at Josie. “You can say that because your mom was a decent person. Willow isn’t. Never was. I don’t want her poisoning my life.”

  “I get that,” Josie said. “But what if, God forbid, she dropped dead tomorrow? Would you be sorry you hadn’t made up with her?”

  Josie’s own mom had died suddenly, about seven years ago, from a brain aneurism. She was making tamales, and Josie found her on the kitchen floor.

  “We obviously had two entirely different experiences with our mothers,” Summer said. “Your mom was more of a mother to me than Willow ever was. If she dropped dead tomorrow, I’d probably be relieved.”

  Delaney’s eyes went round, and Josie sucked in a breath and made the sign of the cross. More guilt. More remorse.

  “Sorry,” Summer said. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive. But it’s true.”

  The girls were quiet for a minute, and then Josie stood up. She handed Olivia to Delaney, moving briskly from rocking chair to couch. Then, she approached the side of the hospital bed, put a hand on Summer’s shoulder and leaned down to kiss Summer on the head.

  “You know I love you. But think about this, okay?”

  Summer nodded.

  “I’ll be in the car, Dee,” Josie said to Delaney.

  Once she was gone, Delaney made a show of adjusting Olivia’s hat. Summer pulled her knees up and put her head on them.

  “I can’t believe I said that,” she said.

  Delaney didn’t answer for a while. Then she said, “We’ve all walked our own paths. You know Josie’s sensitive about it. I know you haven’t gotten any sleep, and, for goodness’ sake, you just pushed a baby out. Josie knows, too. That’s why she didn’t eat you alive.”

  Head still on her knees, Summer chuckled. “Thank goodness for that.”

  “Summer?” Delaney said.

  “What’s wrong?” Summer’s new best friends, The Worst-Case Scenarios, made her head snap up. Had Olivia stopped breathing? Had Delaney dropped her? Everything looked fine.

  “How will I know what to do?” Delaney said.

  Summer sighed with relief. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, when I have this baby. How will I know what to do with it?”

  “You just will. You just do.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re a natural,” Delaney said.

  Summer sensed Delaney was near tears and she smiled, pretending as hard as she could that she felt confident. “At first, it’s just a schedule, you know? It’s just meeting her needs. Feed, change, swaddle, rock. Cuddling is natural
. Feed, change, swaddle, rock. Lay her down. Take a shower before she cries. Feed again. Feeding, feeding, feeding. Change. Rock. Swaddle. Feed. Change. Change.”

  When Delaney made a face, Summer quickly added, “You’ve seen me with mine a million times. You already know the basics. It’s just doing it. And once you’ve been doing it for, like, a few days, you totally have it down. I mean, a few days feels like a few years. You feel like you’ve been doing it forever. And ever.”

  She left out the part about never feeling like you really had it down. She could fill Delaney in on that later.

  When Delaney left, tucking Olivia into Summer’s arms with a deftness that proved she’d be a good mother, Summer savored the silence. It didn’t last long.

  An hour later, her next visitor—an unwelcome one—walked in.

  ***

  Summer should have known Willow would come to visit. She could be very conniving, and she had probably staked out Summer’s house the previous evening after Josie and Delaney whisked Summer away for a pedicure. When Summer and Derek left in the van and didn’t return home, Willow likely assumed Summer had gone into labor.

  Then, she’d waited for a couple of hours before calling the hospital and asking to be connected to Summer’s room. Summer could just picture it: Willow, her eyes slightly bleary from bourbon and her fingers moving almost lazily over the phone’s keyboard as she dialed the number for the hospital.

  “Summer Gray, please,” she would slur into the phone. “Labor and delivery.”

  She’d break up the word delivery into a song, making each syllable its own beat. The nurses who answered the phone would put her through, but of course, Summer wouldn’t answer. She was in labor. Willow didn’t care whether Summer answered. The fact that the nurses rang a room was confirmation enough that Summer was there.

  She bided her time, and then she waltzed into Summer’s room with one arm bent at the elbow, her hand in the air as if she were holding a cigarette.

  Very glamorous.

  “Why didn’t you call me when you went into labor?” she said.

  What a greeting.

  “Why would I?”

  “Can I see the baby? I predicted it was a girl. Did it turn out to be a girl?”

  Summer sighed, and almost smiled, despite herself. “Yes. Olivia. Of course you can see her. She’s right there.”

  Willow had the good sense not to pick the baby up. Instead, she stood next to the bassinet, her hands on one side of the clear bin the baby slept in, and looked down at her.

  “She’s perfect,” she whispered. “She looks exactly like you did when you were born.”

  All those questions came flooding back to Summer.

  You remember what I looked like?

  How did you feel when you held me?

  What promises did you make to me? Did you keep them?

  Did you love me?

  Did you even want me?

  But she kept them to herself.

  Willow took a breath as if to continue, and Summer hoped, for a split second, that she might address some of those questions. But she should have known better.

  Willow went on: “I can’t believe you have five children, Summer. I mean, it’s like a school of fish. What do you even do with so many children?”

  Summer sighed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” Willow said. “I didn’t mean it like that. They’re all beautiful. So beautiful. Such a treat. I can see why you want to keep having them. But this one’s your last, right?”

  Summer wouldn’t have imagined the conversations could get worse, but, she later reminded herself, thinking a situation can’t get worse is often the biggest mistake.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The vacation was over.

  Summer loved her house and the home she and Derek had built inside it. She loved her husband and her children.

  She also loved being in the hospital. She loved the quiet. She loved not having to cook or do dishes or fold clothes. She loved having food delivered. Of course, she had to return to reality and some point. That point was now and as Derek pulled the van away from the hospital entrance, Olivia in the back in her carseat, Summer started to cry. Again.

  “I’m unaccustomed to these crying jags,” Derek said. “Are you okay?”

  Summer wanted to answer that no, she wasn’t okay. She was exhausted. She was scared for Luke. She was scared that caring for Luke would take away from her time with Olivia, and Olivia would grow up believing she was unimportant. She would seek mens’ attention, root it out like candy, and grow up to be a prostitute. It would be all Summer’s fault.

  But instead of saying any of these things, Summer said, “I’m just so happy to be bringing Olivia home.”

  Derek nodded and patted her leg. He looked as convinced as she felt.

  ***

  Chaos. Summer felt like she was walking onto a battlefield or the site of a hazardous materials spill. Or a battlefield where there had been a hazardous materials spill. During the apocalypse. Surely zombies would come around the corner at any moment.

  To his credit, Derek had kept up with washing the laundry. A mountain of clean, unfolded clothes covered the entire couch. Josie and Delaney, who had sat with the kids while Derek picked up Summer and Olivia, were hard at work in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes.

  Summer froze in the entryway.

  “I thought I told you to use paper plates while I was gone,” she said.

  “I couldn’t find them,” Derek said.

  Hysteria threatened. Summer could feel it in her stomach, expanding, threatening to choke her.

  Teeth ground together, she said, “I told you they’re on top of the fridge.”

  Derek shrugged—not in a careless, blasé way, but in an I’m-at-a-loss-and-know-there’s-nothing-I-can-say way.

  Summer took some deep yoga breaths and turned away from Derek. She noticed Delaney and Josie carefully ignoring them (but taking note of every single movement, every action, out of the corners of their eyes).

  She took some more deep yoga breaths. “I need to sit down. Only, there’s nowhere to sit.”

  Behind her, Derek sighed. “The kitchen table?” he offered.

  In the kitchen, Delaney and Josie froze. Josie turned off the water at the sink and hurried in a decidedly non-hurried way over to the kitchen table. When she turned around, her arms were completely full of stuffed animals and weaponry.

  “Have a seat, Summer,” she said, way too brightly. “I am just adjourning this meeting of the stuffed animal Jedi convention.”

  Then she yelled, “Boys!” and offloaded the toys when they came rushing in from outside. Summer sucked in a breath when she saw that their muddy feet—and the puppy’s—were leaving tracks all over the floor, which she’d scrubbed shiny only a couple of days before. She picked her way through the living room, over the cups and saucers and fake coffee cake from Hannah’s tea set, and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “How are you?” Delaney asked.

  “I’m okay,” Summer said. “I’m feeling pretty good.”

  The tension in Delaney’s shoulders eased.

  See? I can do this. Fake it ’til I make it.

  “Actually, I’m feeling great,” Summer said.

  Delaney turned around, very slowly, to face her. “Really?”

  Summer shrugged a shoulder. “Considering. You know.”

  Sarah was busy taking Olivia out of her carseat while Hannah watched, fascinated. Derek had disappeared.

  “Did a bomb go off?” Summer asked.

  “We had hoped to have this all cleaned up before you got home,” Josie said, “but that didn’t really work out. It’s a lot of work keeping up with four kids.”

  There’s that hysteria again.

  At the look on Summer’s face, Josie quickly added, “I mean, every time we made headway on one thing, like taking out the trash, someone interrupted us. Luke needed a bandage for his knee. Sarah needed help with her homework. Nate needed stitches. Okay, just kid
ding. Not that last one. Anyway. We couldn’t keep up.”

  Summer put her head down on the table.

  “I mean,” Josie said, “we’re not as skilled as you are. That’s all.”

  “And then we were talking about when you come home,” Delaney said, “and how we think you should hire a housekeeper.”

  The hysteria bubbled right up and out of Summer’s mouth. She sat up and laughed. Her head tilted back, involuntarily, and she howled.

  “You think I should hire a housekeeper?” She wiped tears from her eyes.

  Josie and Delaney stood side by side at the counter. They turned, simultaneously, so they were leaning with one hip against it, arms folded.

  “Yes,” Josie said, drawing the word out slowly. “You’re going to be nursing a new baby. You have a one-year-old and three kids who will be going back to school really soon. You have to cook. You have to work. You have to chauffeur kids. Derek’s working. Why not hire a little help?”

  Summer shook her head. Her alter-ego Winter emerged and said, “You really don’t know what it’s like to raise four children, do you?”

  The girls looked a little wounded, and Summer felt herself soften.

  “The problem with a housekeeper is that I’d end up paying her to pick up my kids’ toys just so she could get to actually cleaning the house. She’d spend as much time clearing off the floor as she would vacuuming. She’d spend more time clearing homework papers and little toys and used tissues off the kitchen counter than she would actually spend doing dishes. See what I mean?”

  Josie nodded. “We see what you mean.”

  Delaney added, “In fact, we’ve experienced that phenomenon ourselves.”

  “See?” Summer said.

  “But what if you made, like, a chore chart or something?” Josie said.

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” Summer said, spluttering. “These kids can’t pick up their own feet, let alone a bunch of crap off the floor. The last chore chart we made ended up in the toilet.”

  “We’re just trying to help,” Delaney said. “We were just brainstorming, that’s all. I mean, when we went to get pedicures, your fingers were practically bleeding from all the cleaning you were doing. We just don’t want you to overdo it.”