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"You are not supposed to be here. You're late," Aunt Sarah said as she took a seat next to Martin on the bench by the kitchen door.
He was hunched over solemnly with only one shoe on when she had lightly slapped his shoulder pulling him out of a miserable spiral of thoughts which consumed him.
"I know. I don't want to go," he admitted hunching lower. Saying it out loud felt even worse than thinking it. He should be going. He should be excited and supportive and present. But all he could think about was his own selfish discomfort and fears.
"To Louisa's baby shower?! Why the hell not? It's for your child!" she exclaimed bluntly in her classic style.
Martin gave her a look. The fetus growing inside Louisa was no more his child than it was Mark's or that of any other man in Port Wenn. It was some donor from a binder she'd picked out at the clinic in Salem. Which was fine. He didn't care about that. The child would be Louisa's, and he would love them all the same. But he did not need his Aunt Sarah or any one else spreading false information either.
She softened and tapped him with the back of her hand. "I don't give a hoot about that kiddo's DNA. That baby is yours just as much as it's Louisa's and Mark's. You're all working so hard, and you love each other so much."
"We do."
She was right. And he needed to hear it. Everything just felt so messy and informal. Would any of it even last? Should it? Maine like the rest of the modern world did not legally recognize marriage between more than two people. Which would then also extend to complications with the legal custody of the child. The three of them were doing so well together, but the potential strain from legal and societal restrictions would ultimately break them. And it would be messy. It would be better now to end it than risk any enduring trauma for the child. And besides it would allow him to return to being the uninteresting small town doctor he would prefer to be. Too many people knew too much about his private life which was getting messier and messier by the day.
Sarah slapped him gently on the shoulder keeping him from spiraling back downward any further. He'd gone through it all a hundred times in his head and it never came to any better conclusion.
She continued to softly hit him with every syllable of her question, "So why don't you wanna go?"
He looked up at her at a loss for words. How could he explain the multitude of worries weighing him down. He search his mind for the biggest of the bunch. Finding it, he sighed and admitted, "It's the first big event in Port Wenn since-" he trailed off not wanting to finished the statement. He still wasn't at all comfortable saying it out loud.
"Since you came out to the town," Aunt Sarah finished for him.
"It's a big deal," he said as he started to put on his other shoe. "And it's messy. And I'm meant to be these people's doctor, not some road side show to gawk at."
"Who's gawking?" she exclaimed.
Martin shrugged miserably then finished tying his shoe.
"Is that what you think you are to this town?"
Martin sat up with a huff. It was getting difficult to keep his emotions at bay. Aunt Sarah had a way of bringing it all to the surface, and he hated when she got to prying like this. "I'm the town doctor who is afraid of blood and in a polycule with the town sheriff and the school principal who—oh by the way—used to be engaged. And now we're all having a baby together. But it's not our baby. But don't worry! My ex who hates this town and me is the OB! It's ridiculous! It sounds ridiculous!"
She gave him a moment to collect himself before she spoke, "Martin, everyone's life is messy. And no one here wants anything for you three other than good health and great happiness. This is by far the best way this could have worked out for the three of you. I'm serious. And we're all here cheering you on."
He shook his head as he fought back the tears welling up. It was too much. Too much for him to bear. It was going to fall apart spectacularly at some point, and then he would be the town outcast all over again. Because it would be his fault. It would be. He had a way of fumbling anything good that had ever happened to him.
Her hand squeezing his knee grounded him back to the wooden bench in his kitchen. Her voice tethered him down. "It's not the roars of an entertained crowd you're hearing, Martin. And it's definitely not pitchforks. It's cheers of love and support."
He nodded and breathed deeply. "Okay," he said with a fervent nod.
"Okay?" she leaned into him. Her warmth and the pressure of her small frame against his shoulder further calmed his racing heart. They stayed like that until his breathing normalized and his shoulders relaxed. Then she patted his knee and stood. "Let's go. We have a party to get to."
Where was Martin? Mark she had expected to arrive a bit late since he was running an urgent errand out of town for the county police. But Martin was meant to be here an hour ago for set up. And he had the cake. There would be riots without the buttercream cake George had so carefully crafted.
As the minutes on her wristwatch ticked over, and her text messages remained left unread, her calls unanswered, a pit in her stomach swirled forming a tight ball of acrid worry. Something had happened. Someone was hurt or worse. Or it was him. Why wouldn't he answer the phone?
She paced the entrance to the Kloof Mansion garden. Clark Flannigan had kindly offered up the garden as a venue at a reasonable rate. He'd been renting it out since inheriting the property from the Kloofs to pay for all the necessary interior renovations. He had dressed it up beautifully. She should have been enjoying the company of her many friends who had already arrived and were mingling in the garden. But instead she paced away from the tents and the tables and the streamers. George had already pestered her twice to join the party. And this time he sent Elaine.
"I'm sure he's fine. If it was an emergency at the clinic, he would have called me. Come have some punch." Elaine tried to lead her down the stone pathway, but Louisa caught sight of the roof of Martin's Audi cresting over the hilly drive.
"There he is. I'll be there shortly, I promise," she urged shooing Elaine back toward the rest of the party.
When the car crested the final hill she was surprised to see that Sarah was driving. Her worry compounded with every possibility as to why he had let her drive the car he never let anyone drive ever. But when they parked, Martin stood up from the passenger side seemingly fine. "Where have you been? Is everything alright?" she asked as she rushed up to him.
Catching her shoulders in his hands, he apologized, "Sorry, I'm just running late."
He tried to push past her, but she held him fast. He was being unusually brusk even for him. She didn't believe this was just anything. Besides he was never late if he could help it. "Did something happen at the clinic? Is the cake okay?"
"No. No. Yes. No."
She furrowed her brow.
He took a breath and started again with a tired drone. "Nothing happened at the clinic. The cake is fine. Sarah drove like a 90 year old with a heart condition the whole way over." He motioned weakly at her then wandered off toward the trunk.
"Why was Sarah driving your car?"
Sarah rounded the front of the car toward her with her hands full of gifts and grocery bags.
"Why were you driving?" she repeated.
Sarah sidled up to her with a tender expression on her face. "Everything's fine. He was just feeling a little anti-social."
"Oh." Louisa turned to look at Martin as he opened the trunk. He was looking a bit more haggard than usual.
She was about to ask for details when Sarah leaned in, "Give him a little boost will you?"
"I will," she promised with a slight nod of her head.
Sarah took a few steps toward the pathway that led to the party then turned back and shouted, "I'm taking these to the table, Martin! Smile please!" Then she continued on her way.
"Yes, Aunt Sarah," he half-heartedly called back.
Louisa approached and kissed him on the cheek. "So what's wrong?"
Martin sighed as he reached for the cake in his trunk, "Nothing. Really. I was just in my head too much. You know how I can get."
He sounded genuine this time. She hummed in agreement and then asked, "Anything in particular?"
Before he could reply, Mark drove up in his squad car. He parked haphazardly next to them and sprung out of the driver-side door bouncing toward Martin.
"The cake! The cake, the cake, the cake!" he cheered in a sing-song voice. When he got to Martin, he deftly swung an arm around him and pulled him close without jostling the cake in his hands. He gave him an exaggerated pout then declared, "You look so grumpy. Come here." He captured Martin's mouth in an eager kiss.
Louisa watched as the stress melted off of Martin's shoulders. She knew he didn't like public displays of affection. But as they kissed, he was markedly more relaxed than only moments before. Mark had that way about him. He was good for Martin.
Mark pulled away to focus on her. He stepped toward her then grabbed her shoulders and gave her a big smile. "And you look so beautiful glowing in the afternoon sun in your flowery sundress," he said before giving her a quick kiss on the lips. She had to admit that a bit of apprehension and stress lifted from her as well.
He shifted his hands to hold her rounded belly and spoke in a slight baby voice, "And you are still cooking!" Then he leaned down and gave her belly a quick peck. He popped back up and pointed two fingers down toward her belly. "You stay in there."
"Come on, Martin. It's time to get this party started. Gimme that." He took the cake in one hand with ease and grabbed up Martin's hand with the other to lead him down the stone path toward the garden party.
She would catch up to them shortly, but her heart swelled as she watched them go. They were so good for each other. Good for her. It was like somehow each of them held up the other, and they were more stable from the three of them able to rise to any challenge life threw their way. It still felt like a dream. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. But over half-a-year in with their baby due in a month, she hoped it never did.
Martin glanced back to find her, eyes tinged with concern when he noticed she hadn't followed. She started toward them and mouthed "Are you okay?" to him.
He gave her a weary grin with a slight nod then mouthed back, "Yes."