Swede barked up a storm when we got to Haddonfield, my dad immediately offering Christian a drink. If either of them thought this dinner date was weird, you’d never be able to tell. He smiled fondly at the photo albums I showed him while my dad cooked, and he beamed at Annie’s old Polaroids and watercolors. “She nicknamed the Farm ‘Summer Camp’ as soon as she set foot on it,” he confirmed, then he pointed out his inked but hidden initials. My favorite was a tiny CDF twisted into a tree trunk.
My dad and I loved hearing about Annie’s adventures on the Vineyard—she ran around barefoot, she grilled the best tuna, she had the worst luck with skunks, and she won every late-night poker game—and I could tell Christian was enraptured by my dad’s stories about growing up with Annie as his mother. “Really?” he asked when my dad started telling him about the time he and his best friend canoed as fast as they could down the Delaware River. “Sherefusedto pick you up afterward?”
“Well, the guide told her that the route was supposed to take four hours, but if you don’t stay with the group…” My dad shrugged. “Edwin and I did it intwohours, and afterward, we called her from the pay phone. She briskly told us her bridge guests just arrived, so we had to hang around the general store until the fullfourhad passed…”
Christian was also heartwarmingly interested in my grandfather, but when my dad started telling him how Pops and Anniemet, my phone started to chime from the kitchen counter. “My bad,” I said, hurrying to silence it.
But once I saw the name on my screen, my heart slipped into my stomach, and it wasn’t so easy to send the caller to voicemail.
Because the caller was Connor.
“Hello?” I said after I’d sequestered myself in our house’s screened-in porch. “Connor?”
“Hi,” he said evenly. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. We’re in the middle of dinner.”
“Oh, of course.” He coughed. “I can call—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I guess that was my word of the day. Fine. “How are you? Isn’t Topper and Peggy’s anniversary dinner right now?” (Erica had texted my dad some photos of the oasis that was the Outermost Inn.)
“It is,” Connor confirmed. “And they invited me, but I stayed back and made some pasta. I’m not really part of the family.”
“I get it,” I said, even though I had thought about the Carmichael dinner more than once after calling Peggy today. I knew their grandchildren had an original song to sing, and Erica and her siblings had each prepared a toast. Plus, the scrapbook. Had Erica finished her pages?
“You have FOMO?” Connor joked when I didn’t add anything else.
“A little, actually,” I admitted, feeling my lips twitch in amusement. “It sounded like a really nice night.” My heart twisted. “But I’m meant to be here.”
Connor didn’t say anything, then sighed. “I’m so sorry, Olivia. I can’t believe I said or suggested that you should stay here.Of courseyou should’ve gone home to see Annie.” He went quiet again. “It was nothing but selfish of me, and I’m sorry. I feel like such an asshole.”
“Don’t,” I said. “Please. I was the asshole, Connor.”
Iamthe asshole.
He shifted the subject. “How is Annie? Erica told me her surgery went well, but she hasn’t said much since. Just that you and your dad are visiting a lot.”
“Every day.” I nodded. “And she’s okay but still pretty weak. She sleeps most of the time, and when she’s not sleeping, she’s irritated by her sling.” I bit my pinkie nail. “Although she did have a non-blood-related visitor today.”
“Oh, really?” Connor sounded intrigued. “A white-haired man with a baseball cap, perhaps?”
“Wait, he told you?”
“He mentioned it to me on the beach the other day, that hemightgo.” Long pause. “He also offered to give me a ride, in case I wanted to visit too.”
A hard lump formed in my throat.
“And I thought about it,” Connor went on, voice a little strained. “I know the Carmichaels would’ve understood and covered Teddy and Finn, but…” I could see him running a hand through his hair. “I really wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me.”
“Connor.” I gripped my phone tighter. “It would’ve meantso much to see you. Really, it would’ve. You turn everything to sunshine and magic.”
So incredibly corny but also so incredibly true.
“I’m glad,” was all he said.
We sat on the phone in silence. “I should go,” I said after a minute of hearing nothing but blood pump through my ears. “Christian is telling us aboutAnnettein exchange for stories about Annie, and I don’t want to miss any good ones.”
“Of course,” he said. “I bet all of them are good ones. Please tell him I’m happy to hear he made it down okay.”
