“It was nothing,” she said. “Just an old boyfriend from high school. We ran into each, and he kissed me. For old times’ sake. Nothing more.”
“Uh-huh,” Annie replied, not sure why she was the one who was embarrassed.
“Please don’t tell Uncle Joe. And, God knows, don’t tell your mother. Okay?”
Annie nodded because she didn’t know what else to do. But after that, she was uncomfortable being around Aunt Sally, and she hadn’t been sad when Sally and Joe moved to Syracuse, and they only saw them on Thanksgiving and at the funerals when Annie’s grandparents died. Then Annie never laid eyes on them again.
The hardest part had been keeping the secret. And having felt responsible for Sally severing the family ties.
The situation with Kevin felt much bigger, much more important.
She wondered if Donna found it tough to keep Meghan’s secret. Or to keep Kevin’s secret from Meghan after he’d filed for divorce.
A young couple strolled hand in hand up the narrow path from the lighthouse. They were smiling, happy, laughing as they moved through the sand that was edged on both sides by tangles of beach roses that were starting to fade with the season. She wondered if Kevin and Meghan had ever kept secrets from each other.
Then Annie remembered that right after she’d caught Aunt Sally kissing the stranger on the train, Annie told her dad.
They were outside on their usual post-dinner walk. Her dad put his hands in his pockets and walked quietly, the way he did when he was pondering. Then he said, “I’m sure that was upsetting to see, kiddo. But secrets are always better off when they’re kept. Especially since, you never know, one day you might need to share one of your own. And you sure would want someone to keep it.”
And though Meghan was hardly Aunt Sally, her dad’s advice resonated now.
With a last glance at the young lovers, Annie stood up, walked back down to the Chappy Ferry, and went home.
Chapter 12
Ocean Park looked like a quilt whose squares had been stitched from hundreds of multicolored blankets that had motifs of people, dogs, and picnic baskets. Scampering along the seams, long-legged boys and long-haired girls maneuvered strings attached to kites of different sizes, shapes, and designs—all vibrant against the sunset sky. Meghan laughed when she noticed one shaped like a jellyfish. She asked Annie if she thought a leatherback might mistake it for dinner.
They feasted on cold chicken and salad, while sharing silly stories about their lives. Annie kept an eye out for Lucy and Abigail, but didn’t see them. Their absence, however, gave her a chance to get to know Meghan better.
“May I ask something personal?” Annie asked as she poured cups of spring water for them. “Your beautiful face indicates a curious heritage. Would you care to share?”
Meghan smiled a radiant smile that accentuated the high cheekbones under her lustrous skin. “My mother was Egyptian, my father is Irish. Quite a combination, isn’t it?”
“Wow. How did they meet?”
“Their families wound up being neighbors in Boston. My mother had emigrated with her parents from Cairo in the mid-seventies, not long before the famous bread riots when the government took food subsidies away from the poor. I remember my grandfather saying, ‘They took the food from the people who needed it the most.’ He was a carpenter; he worked on the last stage of the John Hancock Tower. They weren’t poor, but many of their friends were.”
“He was a carpenter. Do you think . . . ?”
“That my trade came from him? Absolutely. My mother recognized it early on. But neither she, nor my grandfather, lived long enough to see me get my degree in construction engineering.”
“Your mother died when you were young.”
“I was thirteen.”
The somber moments that followed were then sparked by music from a guitar being strummed by an elderly man nearby.
Annie pulled her knees up and looped her arms around them. “How did you meet my brother?”
“That’s easy. I needed a job. I answered an ad. I married the boss.” Her laughter was relaxed and infectious.
“You’re a lot younger than he is.”
“Only four years. I turned thirty-nine in April.”
“Oh, my gosh. You look much younger.”
Meghan laughed. “Lack of stress. It’s hard to be stressed when you’re in a coma for a long time. Maybe it’s the secret to stopping the aging process.”
