"Exactly!" she giggled. "They're perfectly Bex-sized."
As she measured out the ingredients and handed them to Bex to pour into the pickling mixture, she couldn't help but think of her own child. She loved babies: their sweet little smell and how their eyes suddenly came to life as they experienced things for the first time. But toddlers were where it was at. That was the stage of parenthood Grace had been looking forward to the most—the moment when you got to start showing your child things like how to read, how to swim, and baking cookies and licking spoons. That was the magical part she'd looked forward to the most.
It broke her heart to think of the experiences she'd lost, but she felt soothed to be able to share them with Bex at a time when she needed to be maternal.
They added in some sugar, turmeric, mustard seed, celery seed, and vinegar. Bex loved pouring in all of the ingredients and watching them boil together. Once they had jarred the pickles, she told him they would have to wait until the pickles got cold before they could eat them, but Bex snuck a warm one in and claimed it was the best pickle he'd ever eaten.
The three of them spent the rest of the day relaxing in the pool before Grace got back into the kitchen to cook custard tarts and paella. She'd been experimenting with different recipes, trying to perfect the ones she would be using on the yacht.
She accepted the offer three days ago after Trent pressed her for an answer and had been giddy with excitement about creating the perfect cruising menu.
When night fell and Bex was fast asleep, Grace and Trent walked downstairs and watched a movie to cap off the night. It had been a perfect day.
"I'm glad you and Bex get along so well," Trent said, rubbing a hand on her leg affectionately.
"Why's that?"
Trent looked taken aback by the question, and she was delighted to see a small blush bloom on his cheeks.
"Just makes things easier, I guess," he said.
"He's a great kid. You're really lucky to have someone like Bex in your life. Really lucky."
"I know. He's amazing," he agreed, and Grace couldn't help but shift at the memory of her pregnant belly. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm okay," she said, exhaling a long breath. She and Trent had gotten so close lately that, for some reason, she felt the need to tell him about her child. She wanted him to know all of her and not to be surprised if one day she let it slip that there was a time when she almost became a mother.
"You remember you asked why my ex and I broke up?" she asked, turning to Trent on the couch.
"I do," he said. "You said there was a car accident and he felt guilty?"
"Right," she nodded, and the expression on her face must have shown her nerves because Trent leaned forward and paused the movie. She set her jaw nervously, knowing that there would be no turning back now.
"I have no idea why I'm telling you this," she said with an awkward laugh.
"Was it not a car accident that broke you up?" he asked, perplexed.
"No, it was. I just left out a key detail, which was that..." she trailed off, wringing her hands and trying desperately to swallow the bulb of tension in that had lodged itself into her throat. "Well, when we got into the accident, I had been five months pregnant."
The words hit the air like a bomb. Trent's brows raised and then lowered quickly, and she was so nervous for him to say anything that she started talking again immediately.
"It was so dark where we were, and Aaron just didn't see the car coming. The other car hit the passenger side, where I was, and all I remember was this horrible sound and then just...nothing," she said and waited for Trent to respond, finally feeling ready to hear whatever he would have to say. His eyes met hers, unfailing, but he stayed silent. "When I woke up, I was in the hospital, and they said I had a miscarriage."
"That's terrible, Grace," he said, reaching a hand out to her. "I'm so sorry."
"I had been unconscious for hours, and when they told me I remember I was in so much shock, I just said, 'Kay.'"
She hadn't known what a terrible process it was to have a late-term miscarriage. It wasn't as simple as some light bleeding. There was a birth involved that was more horrible than Grace cared to recall.
"That is the worst thing I have ever heard in my whole entire life," Trent said as he shifted closer to her on the couch. "I can't even imagine what that must have felt like."
"It's really strange to expect so much from something and then have it disappear before your eyes," she said, trying not to cry. "It's like losing your marriage. You planned this perfect life with somebody, and you knew there were going to be hard parts, but you were fully committed to doing the hard parts because you were so crazy in love. Then suddenly, you're left alone, and you're like, where did my plan go?"
Trent tilted his head to the side, agreeing, but said, "I imagine losing your child is a lot worse than losing your spouse."
"Well, as someone who has done both, I can say that is completely accurate. But there was this other part of me who kept thinking...I don't know how to put this. I guess I didn't know my child yet, but I did know Aaron."
"No, I get it. You expected more from him."
"I did," she nodded. "I expected more from us. I didn't think we'd be one of those couples, you know? One of those statistics. I thought we'd let our grief bring us together instead of tearing us apart. I thought, ‘This hurts. This sucks. But we'll have another baby. We'll go back to the way it was.’ I guess I was out of my mind."
"You were being optimistic," he said. "That's the only thing we can do when life throws us a curveball. I would have been the same way."
"Yeah. Aaron didn't see it that way. For the longest time, I thought he resented me, but now I can see that he was angry with himself."
Trent thinned his lips, his eyes finally leaving hers. He looked lost in thought for a moment, then lifted his head and asked, "Do you blame him? For the accident?"
Grace rubbed her forehead with her hand and smiled. She wasn't exactly sure how to answer, though she'd pondered the question many, many times in the last couple of months.
"There were days when I did," she admitted. "But it isn't logical. I just needed someone to blame. He didn't do it on purpose, and he was devastated. Do I wish he'd been more careful when pulling out? Of course. But I don't know if it would have made a difference. The guy who hit us was high; he swerved out of his lane and hit us, so I think we could have been the slowest, most careful drivers ever and it wouldn't have changed anything."
"What happened to the other driver?" he asked.
"Jailtime and a big fine," she said with a shrug.
Trent stared across the room, his eyes glazed in a daydream. When he snapped out of it, she could see the anger overtaking his features. "I would have punched him out."
His response prompted a laugh from Grace. Has he just been daydreaming about attacking the driver? "No, you wouldn't have!"
"If it were my kid and my wife? You can bet anything you got I would have punched him out," Trent reaffirmed.
"Jailtime, stripped license, a broken jaw," Grace counted off. "It wouldn't have made a difference. Nothing done to him can undo what he took away from us."