Scarlett Rose's Arc

Chapter 19 of 57

Scarlett drove into town on Tuesday morning with Clayton's words still in her ear. He had counted the days too. Neither of them had said the word out loud yet. She had made the appointment before breakfast and told him only that she had errands. She wanted a doctor's confirmation in her hand before she said it. The clinic smelled like paper and cold coffee. The nurse drew blood and asked her to wait. Scarlett sat in a plastic chair and watched the second hand on the wall clock. Twenty minutes later the doctor came in smiling and said yes. About six weeks. Everything looked right so far. Scarlett walked out to the parking lot and sat behind the wheel and pressed both hands flat to her stomach. She wanted to drive straight to the south pasture and find Clayton on his horse and tell him in the open air. Then she remembered the receptionist. A woman she'd gone to school with. A woman whose cousin worked at the feed store where Rose had shipped the crib. The clinic sat two blocks from the diner. News moved through this town like water down a slope. If she stopped for gas, if she called Rose, if she waited even an afternoon, someone else would say it first. She started the truck and drove past her own turnoff and up the ranch road to Clayton's gate. He was at the barn with the bloodhound at his heel. He set down a bucket when he saw her truck. She got out and walked to him with her keys still in her hand. "I saw the doctor," she said. "It's true. Six weeks." Clayton looked at her for a long second. Then he stepped forward and put one hand on her stomach, gentle, like he was setting down a plate. His other hand went to the back of her neck. "You drove here to tell me first." "I didn't want you to hear it from anybody else." "Nobody else was going to tell me this," he said. "But thank you." The bloodhound pushed his head between their knees. Clayton laughed once, low, and did not move his hand. "We should tell Mama today," he said. "Before supper. She'll know from my face anyway." "Rose is still at the cottage." "Then Rose first. Then Mama." Scarlett nodded. She felt the weight she'd been carrying since the nursery slide off her shoulders and settle into something else — a schedule, a list of people, a clock starting. They drove back to the cottage in his truck with hers following behind. Rose was on the porch in a turquoise blouse, phone in hand, already halfway through a call to someone. She took one look at Scarlett's face and hung up without saying goodbye. "Well," Rose said. "Say it." Scarlett said it. Rose started crying and reaching for her phone at the same time.