She knew she could easily catch up with him. She could say that she’d give him all the space, all the time he needed. She could ask him not to leave her, not to be hasty. She could beg him to come back.
But as Annie stood, motionless, on the beautiful patio of the beautiful Inn that she and Kevin and Earl had fought hard to make happen, all Annie could think of was maybe John was right. Maybe they only worked as a couple when it was off season and fewer people were around and there were fewer distractions, fewer chances to screw up a loving relationship. Maybe they weren’t made to be together for more than eight or nine months in a year.
She waited, hoping to hear a reassuring word or two from Murphy. But the only sounds were the soft cry of a gull, the distant hum of motorboats, and a haunting echo of Meghan’s words: “Not every story has a happy ending.”
Chapter 20
Whoever controlled the weather had painted a perfect Vineyard evening. As the group maneuvered along the winding path that was bordered by fragrant pink beach roses and tall grasses that swung ever so slightly as they brushed past, Annie was thankful that it was still summer and she had so many people and obligations. There still were a few weeks left of guests coming and going and needing attention; her book tour would follow. By the time she stopped being busy, busy, busy, maybe the fact that she’d come close to marrying John would be a distant memory.
At least she wouldn’t have a chance to spend the next several weeks in isolation, curled up in a sleeping bag, feeling sorry for herself as she’d done the rest of that afternoon.
Pushing aside a lock of hair that grazed her cheek, Annie was determined to concentrate on the people around her and not on John. Or Kevin. Or Donna, Annie’s birth mother, whom she missed more than she could have imagined. But she knew that dwelling on them would only make things harder. Besides, Annie was truly grateful for tonight’s fireworks and this year’s additions to their party: the tenants (except for Harlin, who had a gig in OB with his mariachi band), the guests (despite that she could have managed nicely without Simon’s presence), Lucy’s new friend, Kyle (who was shy but sweet), and, mostly, Meghan. Annie was both surprised and pleased that Meghan hadn’t backed out of going to the celebration. Best of all, no one—not Earl, Claire, or Lucy—seemed to know about John’s split from Annie.
She tottered behind her sister-in-law now; both were laden with food baskets and blankets. The tenants carried watermelons—their unexpected contribution. Simon had insisted on supplying the beverages, some with alcohol, some without. He hadn’t said that he didn’t imbibe, but whenever Annie had seen him during the week he was drinking plain seltzer. Perhaps his sins moved in other directions, like sparking gossip and then lying about it.
Earl spotted a perfect area that was large enough for the group without anyone being able, as he said, “to kick sand in somebody’s face.” Annie distributed blankets, then sat next to Meghan. Francine, Jonas, and Bella joined them, as did Earl and Claire, and then Lucy and Kyle. Annie wondered if they’d all crowded around her so Simon couldn’t get too close. He and Bill had come over from Chappy with the sisters from Indiana, who for sure would return home with lavish tales for their friends and neighbors.
The group ate heartily and exchanged conversation from blanket to blanket. After dimple-cheeked, adorable Kyle had apparently consumed his fill that included two of Lucy’s giant cookies, his shyness took a marvelous turn when he brought out a fiddle and revved up the party: Earl got up and did a surprisingly good imitation of an Irish jig with Claire; Jonas and Francine laughed and applauded, and then joined them. Everyone applauded, encouraging the young fiddler and the dancers.
“We’ll keep you in mind for our next party!” Earl called out when he announced that he was “pooped” and plunked back down on the blanket. “Jonas, if your mother ever comes back, they’d make a great duo—Kyle on fiddle and her on cello. What d’ya’ think?” It was a nonchalant reference to Taylor’s early years in Boston, first at Berklee College, and then playing cello with the symphony.
Jonas laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”
Annie glanced at Megan whose eyes were now fixed on the blanket.
Then Francine scooped up Bella and showed her how to dance. “We don’t know if Taylor will ever come back,” she said. “Unless it’s with Kevin. Then we could have an outstanding party!”
The merriment continued, with everyone but Annie seemingly unaware that Meghan was sitting very still.
Annie leaned over to her and said, “Hey. How about a walk on the beach before the fireworks start?”
Claire had already packed up the leftovers, so Annie and Meghan bagged the trash, stored it in the back of the Jeep, then went down to the water. Once out of range of the others, Annie said, “I’m so sorry, Meghan. I wish you hadn’t heard that.”
Meghan shrugged. “Facts are facts, aren’t they?” She put her hands in the pockets of her jeans, and kept her gaze fixed on the horizon as it tiptoed toward twilight. “I wonder what will happen if Kevin decides to appease you and comes back . . . with her. That would be a mess, wouldn’t it?”
Annie did not know how to answer.
“It’s funny, though,” Meghan added, “It honestly never occurred to me that he’d be involved with someone else. But why wouldn’t he? It’s been years . . . and he is a loving, terrific man. Lots of women would want him.” She pulled in a deep breath, then puffed her cheeks and slowly let it out. “I never thought I was a foolish woman, but I should have known better.”
Wishing she could tell Meghan that she was wrong, that Kevin would absolutely dump Taylor and come back to her if he knew that she’d recovered, Annie could not promise that. She couldn’t manage her own love life, never mind her brother’s. So instead of giving false hope, she simply said, “You don’t know what’s going on with them. I’m not convinced that he does, either.”
They walked on the beach until they reached a section that was posted as private property; they stood for a minute, looking up at the stars now sprinkled across a few small remnants of sunset.
“He loved me,” Meghan said.
“I know,” Annie whispered.
Then Meghan lowered her voice. “I have to go back to Boston. I have to start over without him.”
Annie hadn’t expected that. “But how can you? Where will you live? What will you do?”
“I’ll be able to stay with my dad and stepmother until I find somewhere to live. Ogre that my stepmother is, I can’t believe that she won’t let me. And I’ll get a job. I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I’m itching to get involved in the working world again.”
“And what about my brother?”
“All I know is I can’t keep pretending. I’ll need to use the trust until I’m on my feet again. I don’t think Kevin will mind—after all, he never thought he’d see any of that money again.”
Annie didn’t want to get involved in their financial doings, either. So she reached for Meghan’s hand and gently squeezed it. “How long will you stay?”
