“I’m leaving,” Meghan said. “I went back to see Kevin last night. He told me we’re divorced. He told me he married Taylor. So I have no business being here.”
“Meghan . . .” Annie sat next to her on the staircase, not knowing what to say or how to feel. Restless wiggled in her arms; she scratched his ear to quiet him.
“He said you knew. I figured you were protecting me, so thanks for that.”
“I didn’t know he’d married her. Not until late yesterday. . .”
“But you knew about the divorce.”
“I wasn’t positive it was final.”
She stood up. “Oh, it is. The good news is that I get to keep the trust fund. All of it. So maybe I’ll start my own business with it. Whenever I figure out what that business will be. I only know it won’t be turtles. As interesting as they are, I only made that up so no one would wonder why I came to the Vineyard by myself.”
Annie readjusted Restless on her lap. “I’m so sorry . . .”
“Me, too. But he’s right. We’re far too different for either one of us to be completely happy. We always were. I’d stopped taking the pill—I’d hoped a baby might help fix our marriage, but I don’t expect that really ever works, or at least, usually not well. Anyway, I was sorry that it died. Sadder than I would have expected.” She picked up her suitcase. “I told him I signed the consent form for his surgery as his wife. He said if anybody barked about it, he’d take care of it. Kevin’s a good caretaker, you know.” She offered a little smile. There had been good parts of their lives together, that was clear. “Francine agreed to follow me to drop off the rental car, then she’ll take me to the boat.”
Annie stood up and hugged Meghan, the dog taking turns to lick both their faces, and Annie taking a moment to look one last time into those lovely cornflower blue eyes. She did not suppose their paths would cross again. With a teary sigh, she hugged Meghan again, then said told her that she and Francine needed to get a move on, if they wanted to make the eight fifteen.
* * *
After showering, dressing, and acknowledging a tiny hole that saying good-bye to Meghan had left in her heart, Annie tried to concentrate on Taylor—her new sister-in-law. If offering a “decent human gesture” to be kind to Simon had been important, perhaps Annie should also extend an olive branch to Taylor. If Kevin and Taylor loved each other and planned on staying married, Annie would work hard not to ruin that for them.
She told John that she’d meet him downstairs. Then she headed toward the kitchen to grab coffee to-go.
The table already was set, but, with Francine having taken Meghan to the boat, who was in charge of breakfast? It was ridiculous that Annie had been so distracted she hadn’t checked to be sure the basics of the Inn were being covered. But as she moved from the great room into the kitchen, she heard voices coming from the chef’s room—the sisters from Indiana. Ginny was providing instructions; Tina was piling muffins into a basket.
“I know how to serve people,” Tina barked at her sister. “I was a waitress, you know.”
“Just because you waited tables at our church tent at the State Fair doesn’t mean you qualify to call yourself a waitress. For one thing, it was forty years ago.”
Toni set down the basket. “Forty years? That long?”
“Closer to fifty,” Ginny said.
Annie smiled. She expected that, now and again, the sisters squabbled. “Hello, ladies. I see you’re helping out this morning?”
The women turned to her, both looking a little nervous, as if they’d been caught with their hands in the muffin tin.
“Actually, Francine already put eggs and bacon in the chafing dishes, and your nice young man, Jonas, was supposed to help serve,” Ginny said. “So you could say right now, we’re helping out him. Bella had a fussy night. She rode with Francine and Jonas to Boston. We have no idea why they went, but when they got back, Bella woke up and wouldn’t go back to sleep. She kept saying, ‘Bella go for ride!’ That little one is so adorable. Anyway, he’s driving her around the island hoping she’ll fall asleep again.”
Annie wasn’t sure what part was more “adorable”: Bella, or the way that Ginny told the story.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I won’t be joining you, either,” she told the sisters. “I only came in for coffee, but now I think I’ll bring those delicious-looking muffins to the hospital. I have a feeling my brother will be having visitors. You probably know there’s plenty of homemade bread for toast if anyone wants it, and cookies in the freezer if they want something sweet. Okay?” She didn’t know why she was confirming with the Inn guests that taking the muffins would be okay, but Annie supposed she’d been raised to be polite, and some parts of the past simply had stuck.
“But is there any dog food?” John came into the kitchen, Restless in his arms. “Like bacon and eggs? He really loves those.”
The sisters from Indiana ooh’ed and ahh’ed over Restless (and John) and fixed a bowl for the dog while Annie bagged the muffins and poured a Thermos of coffee. Which was when Bill walked in.
“Morning,” he said brightly and looked squarely at Annie. “I hope it’s a happy one for you?” He was dressed in khaki shorts and a golf shirt; his hair was neatly in place, and he was clean-shaven. It seemed that, like Taylor, he’d undergone a transformation.
Annie took a step back, her defenses apparently still on alert. “So far,” she said.
Bill gave her a wary smile. “If you have a minute, could we go outside on the patio? I’d like to discuss a couple of things.”
She looked at John, then back to Bill. She avoided glancing at the sisters, whose eyes were glued to her. “Okay.” She moved outside to the patio, grateful that John was behind her. And Restless, too, of course.
* * *
