“Oh my. They went all out,” Toy said with wonder.
“I didn’t expect all this!” Cara exclaimed and suddenly felt sheepish for being late.
Toy went directly to the dining room table to add her covered dish to the groaning weight of platters and bowls. Drawing near, Cara saw the requisite pimento cheese sandwiches and deviled eggs, red rice and beans, pickled okra, a selection of salads, and fried chicken. A large wooden serving platter in the center of the table waited, she knew, for the steamed shrimp.
On cue, the kitchen door swung open and Ethan emerged with the steaming pot of shrimp, guests filing in behind him. Exclamations of welcome echoed throughout the room. Cara smelled the sweet scent of shellfish and Old Bay seasoning, heard the laughter, and felt herself light up with happiness. Immediately she was surrounded by such love—her brother Palmer and sister-in-law Julia, along with Linnea and Cooper. Heather and Bo Stanton were back in town with their new towheaded son, whom she’d yet to meet; he looked to be close in age to Hope. Finally, there were Flo and Emmi. Her nearest and dearest, her family. They’d been there for her through the good times and the bad. She’d loved them all before, but now, alone with a baby, she treasured them. Through a veil of tears, Cara felt humbled with gratitude.
With the huge influx of attention, Hope began to cry. Emmi rushed forward to scoop her up, cooing softly, and someone handed Cara a glass of the champagne.
The party was under way.
THE SKY HAD turned indigo, and most of the guests had left. This was Cara’s favorite time of a party, when the din died down and meaningful conversations could be held without interruption or straining to hear through the noise. She’d had such a lovely time, but now she could finally stop smiling at all the congratulations. Like a bride, her cheeks hurt.
Flo and Emmi would’ve made a caterer proud by how quickly they’d cleaned up and packed away the food. They’d sunk into the couch and kicked their shoes off, and were chatting, glasses in hand and heads tilted toward each other, no doubt sharing impressions from the party. The oohing and aahing over Hope had tuckered her out, so she was asleep upstairs. Cooper and Danny looked like Mutt and Jeff, playing a game in the TV room, shoulders hunched over controllers. She felt kindly toward Cooper for taking the youngster under his wing.
Over by the table Palmer was embroiled in a heated discussion with Ethan about the new baseline and setbacks of property for the islands. Palmer’s Sullivan’s Island home was caught in the crosshairs, which was going to make his insurance premiums soar. Ethan had his arms crossed and a beer in his fist, rocking on his heels as Palmer dominated the conversation, gesturing broadly.
Suddenly Palmer bellowed, “No, no way! You crazy, boy?”
Cara swung her head around to catch her brother reaching out to steady himself on the back of a nearby chair. From the corner of her eye, she saw Linnea look up sharply, her heavily lined eyes shining with embarrassment. Cara’s heart flinched with sympathy. How many times had she died a thousand deaths hearing her father’s drunken outbursts? She searched the room for Julia, who was usually good at cutting Palmer off before he got out of hand. But she was walking toward the kitchen with a tray filled with dirty glasses, apparently unconcerned.
Linnea turned back to Little Lovie and with forced cheerfulness engaged the young girl in conversation to distract her from Palmer’s behavior. Cara looked at Linnea with fresh eyes. Her niece had become a woman, she realized. As poised and pretty as her mother. But in truth, she was a ringer for her grandmother Lovie! Linnea had the same petite bone structure, blue eyes, and fair coloring. Cara smothered a laugh. The resemblance was all the more remarkable since Linnea was wearing a shirtwaist dress in the style of the 1950s. Her hair was in a ponytail pinned back with pink clips. It took confidence to pull off that look, Cara thought with admiration.
“For you.” Julia was at her elbow, handing her a cup of coffee.
“Why, thank you. It smells heavenly,” Cara said gratefully. Then, nodding toward Palmer, she said, “I think he could use a cup. Maybe two.”
Over the rim of her mug Cara saw Julia glance at her husband and her lips tighten in annoyance. “He wouldn’t drink it,” she said, and sipped the coffee herself.
“I hope you’re driving,” said Cara. “Or Cooper.”
“Cooper’s had too many beers. As usual, it’s up to the women.”
“Speaking of women, I’ve been meaning to ask you something all day. I’m in desperate need of a nanny. Do you know of anyone you can recommend? Or an agency?”
“A nanny? I thought you were staying home with the baby.”
“I am,” Cara replied a bit defensively. “But I’m trying to work from home too. I’m not getting much done with Hope underfoot. She just wants my attention all the time.”
“I remember those days,” Julia said wistfully. “The best days. Before you know it, they don’t care about your attention at all. Cara, honey, are you sure you want to work? This time is precious. It goes by so fast.”
Julia had had the luxury of staying home with her children without having to worry about supporting them. She was oblivious to how tender a subject it was for a woman who had only herself to depend on.
“I don’t have a husband,” Cara said. She couldn’t help the sting that came out with that painful statement. “I have to provide for us.”
Julia looked a bit nonplussed. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t,” Cara said, putting an end to this uncomfortable topic.
“Cara, I’m so proud of you. I’m not sure I would be so brave as to adopt a child on my own.”
Cara appreciated her sister-in-law’s support and tried to explain. “The problem is, I quit my job so I could come home and raise my child myself. To be near my family and to provide a loving network. In order to do that, I’m trying to get my fledgling consulting business off the ground so I can stay home with Hope.” She exhaled. “But I still have to get work done. And that’s not going to happen if I don’t get childcare.”
“Have you looked into day care?”
“What’s the point of staying home if she’s not there, though?” Cara shook her head, frustration pitching her voice a little louder: “I just need a good babysitter.”
“How much babysitting do you need? A couple of hours here and there? Or something regular?”
“Regular,” Cara replied. “As many hours as I can get.”
“So, you’re looking for a nanny.”
Nanny, babysitter . . . Cara didn’t have a clue what the difference was, other than a nanny sounded more upscale than a babysitter.
“Sorry, I’m not sure I know the difference.”
Julia explained: “A babysitter takes care of your child for a few hours at an hourly rate. You call her when you want to go out to dinner or a movie. More short-term. A nanny, on the other hand, is a full-time caretaker who is more involved with the child, arranges schedules, helps with household chores, prepares meals. She’s almost part of the family.”
Cara said, “I guess what I need is a nanny, then.”
“Well,” Julia said with a grimace, “nannies can be quite expensive. All that time and personal investment . . . Perhaps you just need someone part-time?”