Meet Me at Sunset (Evening Island) - Olivia Miles Page 0,22

kitchen, without her clothes on. Gemma had to laugh at that, and she did.

Hope, however, was far from amused. While Rose had no problems with modesty, Victoria was the opposite, and had refused to wear the tankini with the lemon-wedge print that Hope had ordered for the summer.

“Where are your clothes?” she asked, giving her sternest, no-nonsense look. It came naturally. Once, she had imagined motherhood to be baking cookies and cuddling under the blanket with a picture book. Now it meant wiping throw up off yourself in public and wrangling nude children.

This was what Evan didn’t understand. He had never idealized parenthood. He never had…expectations. Evan’s life hadn’t changed much from before the twins came along to now. But her life had. Her life, as her own person, had officially ended. Maybe, she thought, it had never even begun.

“It’s hot in this house!” Rose pouted, pushing out her lips and narrowing her eyes in Hope’s direction.

“Right,” Hope said crisply. “It’s nap time.” It wasn’t, not really, but it was also eastern standard time zone here, so technically they were an hour ahead of their routine, meaning that it was nap time, on island time.

“No!” Rose wailed, fueling Hope’s decision.

Hope took her by the hand and led her into the kitchen, where sure enough, the sweet little pink romper was lying in a heap next to her bunny-printed underwear. She glanced around. Her heart sped up. “Where’s your sister?”

She stared at Rose. Rose stared back with round eyes.

Gemma was the one to walk through the back door, and Hope hoisted Rose onto her hip, her heart pounding as a million thoughts raced through her mind. Her child had escaped. Gone off around the house, crossed the road, and was now floating in Lake Huron. Evan would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself! It wouldn’t have ever happened if she hadn’t come here. She shouldn’t have come here! She should have woken up, eaten her standard half a cup of Greek yogurt with a cup of fresh fruit and a black coffee and then gone to the dentist for her semiannual cleaning. If she’d wanted to see a lake, she could have driven fifteen minutes down the road to Lake Michigan.

“Victoria!” Her voice was shrill. She never would have screamed like this back home—the neighbors would be sure to talk. But Sunset Cottage was remote, and the two houses on either side, by the looks of it, were still unoccupied for the season.

“The playhouse!” she suddenly said. Frantically, she swiveled her head to the left, her eyes falling on the old shed that the Taylor girls had been allowed to turn into a playhouse. Their father had painted it white and their mother had made curtains for the window out of floral-printed pillowcases and Hope could remember being just as envious as her sisters were, not over the tiny playhouse but over just how involved the Taylor girls’ parents were with them. Hope had vowed to be like that when she became a mother. And she had. She’d given up her career—one that she was good at and enjoyed. She did all the crafts, and did all the groups. And now…she had lost her child.

Gemma was the first one to make it to the playhouse, with Hope trailing behind, Rose bouncing on her hip, still in the buff, not that Hope cared just now. She hoped there were no garden tools in there, no sharp objects like axes or saws that Victoria might find tempting to touch.

She held her breath as Gemma pulled open the door, which was already half-open, Hope now saw, and out popped a little smiling face. “Surprise!”

Gemma whooped in relief, but Hope clenched her jaw so tight that she was afraid she really might have to go the dentist soon, and she doubted very much that the dentist on the island would take her insurance.

“That’s it!” she snapped, turning into Mean Mommy, the mother she had sworn she would never be, the mother she was rapidly becoming, because it was just so much, all day, all the time! It was so…thankless! There was no promotion to strive for. No paycheck deposited into her account every other Friday. Evan hadn’t even commented on the unicorn, well, other than with an eye roll. “It’s time for a nap!”

Only as soon as she saw Victoria emerge from the shed, her bottom lip now quivering, she knew that there would be no nap, at least not without a bath.