No, Annie thought. She would have remembered that exotic bronze skin and those cornflower eyes.
“Help me out, here, okay? You’re not Mary Beth Mullen? You’re not here to study the leatherbacks to try and get a job at the Marine Biological Lab?”
Mary Beth sniffled; she inhaled, then slowly exhaled. “I’m someone who has a story. The kind of story Simon might jump on. Especially since I’m from Boston like he is.”
Annie stared at the cookies that sat innocently on the table. She had a feeling she needed to brace herself for whatever was coming next. “Would you like to tell me about it?”
Mary Beth lifted her eyes; they were sad, sorrowful. The last time Annie had seen someone with that kind of look, it had been on Francine. And she’d been in big trouble.
“Can I trust you to keep it a secret?”
“Yes.”
Sighing again, Mary Beth turned her gaze toward the striking island-crafted, felt-appliqued pillows scattered atop the bed. “My real name isn’t Mary Beth Mullen.” She paused again. Then she said, “My name is Meghan MacNeish. I am your brother, Kevin’s, wife.”
* * *
It took Annie a few moments to grasp the situation. Mary Beth was Meghan? Kevin’s wife? But Meghan had traumatic brain injury from that horrible accident . . . the last time Kevin had seen her she hadn’t known him . . . the doctors had little hope . . .
Annie drew in a long breath. “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. Some days I don’t, either. But it’s true. Here I am. Almost totally recovered. And properly discharged from the rehab facility in Stockbridge where I spent the last few years. I still get headaches, but otherwise . . . like I said, here I am.”
Annie tried to quickly sort through the information as if she were a professional and would not be personally affected by any ramifications. “Did you come to the Vineyard because you found out Kevin lives here?”
She nodded. “I wanted to surprise him. Mary Beth Mullen was one of my nurses; I used her name when I made my reservations, and I sent a cashier’s check because the only credit card I have has my real name on it. I thought I had all my bases covered, until I saw you on the ferry, and I overheard you tell that little girl about your brother going to Hawaii. To see a friend.” She paused, lowering her eyes. “A lady.”
“Ahh,” Annie said. “Right.” But how had Meghan known that Kevin was her brother? Annie had only known about him for a couple of years, and they hadn’t exactly advertised it—well, not off the island, anyway.
“I made up the part about seeing someone I knew on the ferry, so I could get away from you. I was going to stay on the ferry and go back to Woods Hole. But then I decided it didn’t matter,” Mary—Meghan—continued. “I decided that even if he had another woman, he still had the right to know that I’m better. Which I wouldn’t be if it hadn’t been for the trust fund he set up for my care.”
“He sold his business to do that.” Annie hoped that hadn’t sounded harsh.
“I know. Your mother told me. Your birth mother.”
Of all that had transpired in the past few minutes—or, for that matter, in the past few days—Meghan’s last comment shocked Annie the most.
“Donna?” Annie asked. “Donna MacNeish?”
“Yes.”
Annie stood up. “I could use a glass of wine. Follow me, please. I need to hear details, and I need to hear them now.”
* * *
They sat cross-legged on the floor of the chef’s room. To avoid interruptions, Annie had closed the door. Then she’d uncorked the Chanel Bordeaux; they drank it out of pottery mugs from Morning Glory Farm because the good crystal was in the kitchen cabinets, and she didn’t want to chance running into anyone out there in the open.
“Okay,” she said. “Start with what I know. That the last time Kevin saw you, you didn’t remember him.”
“I’d been in a coma for something like two years. I didn’t remember him because I didn’t remember anything. Or anyone. Even after I was alert again, it was months before the wiring in my brain began to reconnect. About six months ago, I remembered everything. Well, almost everything. I don’t remember actually falling off the scaffolding at the job site. Only that I’d been determined to go up on it because we had a deadline. Donna told me the rest.”
Annie had been told that Meghan had loved working with Kevin in the commercial construction business. As the company had grown, Kevin wound up doing all the “office stuff,” and Meghan became his foreman—foreperson—doing hands-on work. Then, one winter, with a forecast of bad weather and high winds, Kevin ordered his wife not to go up on the scaffolding at the site of a new mall. But they had a deadline, and Meghan was stubborn when it came to their customers’ demands (Kevin’s words). The next thing Kevin knew he was in the back of the ambulance with his wife, who was close to death.
“Tell me about Donna,” Annie said. “How . . . when did you see her?”
“She came to see me every week. Except when she was in Switzerland having the treatment. And when she moved down here. I am so sorry she’s gone, Annie. She was a very special lady. But I’m glad you finally got to know her. She once told me that having both her children in her life was the greatest gift she’d ever been given. That knowing you made her life complete.”
Tears now welled in Annie’s eyes, her hazel—not green—eyes that were replicas of Donna’s. And of Kevin’s, her half brother, whom she’d come to adore despite that he was now being a royal pain. She took another sip of wine and waited while its warmth traveled to her heart. “Thank you. What a lovely thing to tell me.” She wiped her eyes and took another sip.
