I nodded, my chest filling with warmth. I liked that he didn’t think twice about sharing.
“And we’ll have two cold brews, along with a Tractor Farmer’s punch because that soundsincredible.” He cleared his throat, then said in a serious, almost solemn tone: “I’m also allergic to tree nuts and shellfish.”
“What was that voice?” I asked as our cashier input our order. “You sound like a doctor delivering bad news.”
“Very funny.” Connor rolled his eyes. “I always sound that way when I tell someone about my allergies. When I was little, I wanted people to pay attention and know I wasn’t messing around.” He shrugged. “It stuck.”
“Have you ever had a serious allergic reaction?”
“No, which leads me to believe my doctor-delivering-bad-news voice is extremely effective.”
I laughed, and after Connor insisted on paying, we took our iced coffees and managed to find an empty table on the porch.Miss Lupo!I thought I heard someone shout behind me, but nobody waved when I glanced over my shoulder.
“So…” Connor ventured a while later, in between bites of breakfast. I’d never eaten such light and fluffy pancakes, and the Tex-Mexsauce… “May I ask you something?”
I took a sip of his punch. It was sweet, but not too sweet. Refreshing. “Sure.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “What made you change your mind about me?”
“Oh,” I said, feeling my stomach stir. Chocolate chips and pico de gallo weren’t a match made in heaven. “Well, I—”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Connor quickly added. “I’m happy—reallyhappy—that you did change it, but…” The tips of his ears reddened. “You seemed pretty set on the Fourth and when you brought Maisie and Bryce as a buffer yesterday.”
I grimaced. “You noticed that?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re surprised?”
“No.” I sighed. “No, of course not. It was pretty obvious…” I wanted to bite my nails, but instead I started to stir my straw around in my iced coffee. Was he actually going to make me admit it? “I like you, Connor, but I haven’t liked anyone—or really,letmyself like anyone—in a long time.”
Maybe even ever.
“I don’t totally have a handle on why,” I thought aloud, then mused. “Sometimes it just feels like I’ve been too busy for a boyfriend.” I bit my lip, wondering if that was true. It didn’t seem like it. Because what was I sobusywith? I’d taken the year off to work part-time and visit my grandmother; I didn’t have a full college course load like my friends. I stopped fiddling with my straw to look at Connor. His eyebrows had furrowed, but more with interest than confusion. “Anyway.” I smile-shrugged. “When Annie called me yesterday, she encouraged me to stop fighting it with you and have some fun. She said she once met someone on the island and had the time of her life.”
“Your grandfather?”
“No.” I shook my head. “She didn’t give me any details, but no.”
Though now that I was talking about it, Iwasstarting to really wonder about the story there. Did her love interest live here? Or was he just here for the summer, like her?
“Annie lives at Elkins,” Connor said gently. “Doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” I admitted, knowing it was finally time to open up tohim about her. “But she doesn’t live in independent living like your grandfather. She did when she and Pops first moved there, but after he passed away…” Something in my stomach started twisting itself into a knot. “It pretty much went all downhill from there.”
“How so?”
I took a breath, then I told him about Annie’s dementia. Her memory issues before the official diagnosis, moving from her apartment to Elkins’ assisted living unit, her tendency to wander off, sustaining some scary falls, moving again to Finlay House, and her terrible sundown episodes. “She’s also forgetting who I am,” I said. “No matter how often I visit. Sometimes I’m Olivia, but more and more often, I’m someone else.”
“I’m so sorry, Olivia,” Connor said. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.” He hesitated. “It sounds like you two are really close.”
“Annie has always, always been there for me,” I responded. “She really stepped up and helped my dad raise me after my mom died.” I didn’t wait for a response, not wanting to veer into that right now. “She knows me better than anyone else.” I took a deep breath. “And I thought I knew everything about her too, but her secret connection to this island is throwing me off a little.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “She’s never talked about Martha’s Vineyard?”
I shook my head. “Not the way she’s talked about her other travels.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ashley’s beendealing with something similar,” he said after several seconds. “That’s where she’s been this summer. Her husband’s grandfather has Alzheimer’s, and Mike’s been managing his care for years. I don’t know why his parents never stepped up, but it’s all Mike.” He paused. “It apparently took a lot to get his grandfather into a memory care facility, and he’s declining quickly. Mike’s grandmother isn’t handling it well either. Ashley doesn’t think she should live alone anymore, but she refuses to move in with them.”
“That’s…” I took a breath, not having the words. Well, I did—terrible, awful, unbearable, and cruel. Dementia and Alzheimer’s disease were both cruel to the person suffering and devastating to their loving families.
