Do you?I wondered, because my meltdown in her room seemed like a littlemorethan a mention. I suspected Annie had no recollection of that visit, and she wasawareof that, but didn’t want to hurt my feelings by admitting it.
It didn’t matter.
“We went to the Flying Horses today,” I told her brightly. “Maisie grabbed the brass ring on her first ride.”
“Oh my!” My grandmother laughed, delighted. “Of course she did. Our Maisie never backs down from a challenge.”
“No, she does not…” I hesitated. Sheknewwhat I was talking about; sherememberedthe Flying Horses and its brass ring. What should I ask her next? I needed to make the most of this.
“What’s on your mind, Olivia?” Annie picked up after a moment. “I can hear those cogs turning.”
Warmth filled my chest.I can hear those cogs turning. Annie said that to me a lot growing up, whenever I was clearly wrestling with something but couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.
Did something happen here, Annie?I asked.Why didn’t you everreallytell us about Martha’s Vineyard?
The opportunity was right there, but something got the better of my curiosity. “I might’ve met someone,” I said, the words sounding too serious but also the most accurate. “Connor.”
“Mmm,” Annie distantly hummed.
I grimaced. By saying so little, she made me feel heartless. I historically never talked about the guys I hung out with, beyond sharing their first names and a fast fact.Rob plays the drums… CJ lives three streets over… Luca works as a busboy… Trevor loves Ultimate Frisbee…
Their best quality always went unsaid:They only want to have fun.
“What is this boy’s name?” Annie asked, as if I hadn’t just told her.
“Connor.” A flurry of butterflies swirled in my stomach, to the point of near-nausea. I felt like I was about to jump off the Jaws Bridge for the first time. “Nothing’s going to happen, though,” I quickly added. “I just…” My voice wavered. “I just like him.”
“Does he like you?” Annie prompted.
I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Yes.” I nodded, even though she couldn’t see. “He has been very…” I searched for the word. “Up frontabout that.”
“Ah,” Annie said lightly. “Then why is nothing going to happen?”
A lump formed in my throat.
“You return each other’s feelings,” she stated. “I don’t see the problem.”
“Because there isn’t one.” I said, swallowing hard. “It’s morepointless. We’re only here for two more weeks, which is no time at all, and he’s working here for the summer—”
My grandmother cut me off. “Where is Connor from? New England?”
“Pennsylvania.”
“That sounds vaguely familiar.”
I blushed. “But it’s not like we’re going to the same college.”
“Oh, who cares?” Annie asked, in a tone that straightened my spine. Not unkind, but one that would pair perfectly with an eye roll. Her loss of a filter was another symptom of dementia. “What does it matter?”
I opened my mouth before gathering words.
“You don’t have to marry him, dearest,” Annie told me. “A couple weeks of fun never hurt anyone, and the Vineyard…” She sighed. “It’s a fantastic place for fun.”
“How do you know?” I blurted, for fear that she would forget in the next three seconds.
“BecauseIhad plenty of fun there,” she replied. “Before I met your grandfather, I was in your shoes. Imetsomeone.”
My pulse was pounding. Annie hadneverspoken of any romance other than the one she’d had with Pops. Some high school admirers, of course, but those didn’t really count. “Annie, who was—” I started at the same time someone on Annie’s end said, “Annette, lunch is being served.”
