Annie let Francine go, watching as she walked to her car to go get the sandwiches, grateful, so very grateful, that she was in her life. Then, before going back into the hospital, Annie leaned against one of the portico’s tall white pillars and looked up at the sky. “We need a lot of help down here,” she said. “In case any of you are listening. Murphy? Donna? Mom? Dad?” She paused then whispered, “Brian?”
* * *
Conversation between Annie and Meghan was minimal while they sat, nearly holding their breaths, waiting for the message that Kevin was out of surgery. That it had gone well. That he was doing great.
“I’m sorry,” Meghan said at one point.
“Sorry for what? This isn’t your fault.”
“I didn’t hear the gun go off. My headache pill knocked me out. I was asleep. I never heard the shot.”
“It doesn’t matter. Simon called 911 right away; there’s nothing you could have done.”
“But Kevin wouldn’t have come back if you hadn’t called him because of me . . .”
“Stop. Don’t blame yourself, okay? You have enough to worry about right now.” It was easy for Annie to say.
Later, Annie coaxed her into splitting one of the sandwiches Francine had bought, though they each only had a bite or two. The rest of the time Annie sipped water and flicked her gaze from the “personnel only” door back down to the floor. She couldn’t shed the shame that this was her fault. And hers alone. True, she didn’t know that Simon would be a jerk or that Kevin would blast into the scene with his stupid gun. Hell, she didn’t even know he was on the East Coast. But if she hadn’t gone into the cottage in the first place . . .
The guilt, the remorse would not abate.
Not long after midnight, the outside doors whooshed open again; Annie barely noticed. It was, after all, still August, so they’d whooshed often that night.
Then Annie heard Meghan say, “Hello.”
“Any word?”
It was John.
“Not yet,” Meghan said.
Annie raised her eyes; John stood in front of her. He set down a suitcase and a large canvas bag.
“Francine updated me about Kevin being in surgery. I figured you’d want to be here all night, so I asked her to pull some stuff together. She put it on the last ferry; Captain Fred dropped it off at the station for me.” He turned to Meghan. “This suitcase is yours, right, Meghan? That’s your name, right?”
“Yes,” she said weakly. “To both questions.”
“Nice to meet you. My dad explained your situation. I think I can speak for my whole family when I say I’m really glad that you’re here.”
She smiled tentatively.
“Francine said the suitcase was in your room, that it looked packed, and that it saved her from having to go through your things to pick out . . . whatever.”
Annie did not want to consider that Meghan’s suitcase had, in fact, already been packed. That she had planned to leave in the morning. For real.
“Annie, the canvas one’s for you.”
Off duty, out of his uniform, dressed in ordinary shorts and a T-shirt, he didn’t look as menacing. He looked like John again,herJohn, though he no longer was. “Thank you,” she said.
Now that he’d delivered the goods, he seemed unsure what to do or say. He folded his hands in front of him and asked, “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“No,” Annie said. “Do you need to interrogate both of us?”
He sat next to Annie, on the far side of Meghan. As earlier, he kept an empty seat between them. “I’m here as . . . I’m here to give you some support, Annie. I care about Kevin, too, you know.”
She nodded. “I know.” She rested her hands on her knees and took a long breath.
“Annie . . .” he began.
