Twenty-one
Even though Connor seemed stable, it was protocol for him to spend several hours under observation in the ER. “You should stay here,” he said before the EMTs chauffeured to Martha’s Vineyard Hospital. He nodded at the Chappy Ferry. “Head back over and check out Dike Bridge.” He pressed his Jeep keys into my hand. “I’ll let you know when I’ve been discharged.”
I made him promise that I’d be his first call.
“And my ride.” He kissed my cheek, and when we got home five hours later, a totally fine Connor disappeared to call his mom and update her on his medical incident while I sought out my dad. I showed him the picture of me striking a silly pose on Dike Bridge (thank you, self-timer), then I told him about my conversation with Annie. He calmly nodded, but I could see something flickering in his eyes. “She always just seems weirdly pissed at you, for no reason.” My voice unexpectedly wavered. “Dad, I hate it.”
He wrapped me in a hug. “She’s not really upset with me, Liv.”
“Yeah, I know,” I whispered, tears welling up. “The disease is.”
We kept telling ourselves that, and itwasthe truth, but it wasstill difficult to separate the evils of dementia from our happy memories of Annie. They wouldn’t overshadow them, but they’d still bethere, woven into our family fabric. I would always remember my grandmother calling me asnot, just like Erica knew she wasthat womanevery now and again.
Does that crush her?I wondered.
“Thanks, Dad.” I pulled away to give him a small smile. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Keep up your spirits for the rest of the trip. Don’t worry about Annie. She’s in the best hands, and we’ll be back soon enough.” He gave me a long look. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, but it was easier said than done. The next day, on Friday, I called Elkins before Connor and I left for dinner on the Farm.
“I’m sorry, Olivia,” one of the nurses said. “It’s been a challenging day. How about you call back tomorrow?”
I didn’t like the wordchallenging. What did that mean? Was she irritated and restless? Or had there been a bad sundown episode?
Connor interrupted my spiral. “What are you thinking about?” he asked as we puttered across Oyster Pond, Ashley at the helm. She and her dad were taking the kids—all wearing fluorescent life vests—tubing after dropping us off on the Farm’s dock.
I waved my hand, as if to say,Nothing!
“Connor, remember to remind Meredith about yourallergies,” Teddy said when the dock was in sight. “She might fry something in the same oil as—”
“I don’t think Meredith has a fryer, sweetheart,” Ashley bemusedly cut in, “but I’m sure Connor will let her know.”
“Absolutely,” he said before offering the kids fist bumps. “Kick butt out there, guys!”
Ashley maneuvered the Boston Whaler as close as possible to the dock. I thought Meredith would’ve been waiting for us, but instead it was a life vest–wearing Claire Dupré and her mom. “Just up the dunes.” She smiled at Connor and me and gestured up the rickety stairs.
And while Maisie practically pushed us overboard, wanting to get her tube on, a flushed Finn offered Claire his hand to help her onto the boat.
Manners matter, dude, I imagined Connor telling him.Girls like manners.
We do, I would’ve concurred, even though before meeting Connor, I’d tried to convince myself that chivalry had gone extinct. Who cared that Rob had always texted me from his car instead of knocking on my front door?
Heat sparked on the back of my neck, embarrassed.
Connor and I hiked up the hill, but again, neither Meredith nor Wit waited for us. Instead, there were two mountain bikes leaning against an ancient split-rail fence with wildflowers spilling down the side. “What are you doing?” I asked when Connor confidently mounted the red one. “That is totally someone’s bike.”
“Trust me,” he said, and I found myself completely and utterly powerless against his smile. It weakened the backs of my knees.
But I still managed to swing my leg over the side of the silver bike, and once we started pedaling, it was off to the races. The sun bathed the Farm’s seagrasses in a golden light as we rode along a well-worn sandy road. I wanted to close my eyes and throw my hands up in the air, feeling so incredibly carefree. Music drifted from the one of houses we passed by and there looked to be a cutthroat cornhole game happening outside another. Something sizzled on a grill somewhere.
I was so swept up that I had to slam on my brakes; Connor had slowed to a stop in front of a tiny cedar-shingled cottage with a pitched roof and green shutters. THEANNEX, a sign over the door read. Two matching Adirondack chairs sat on its tiny porch, and a picnic table lounged out front. It was set for dinner with a vase of fresh wildflowers as the finishing touch.
“Welcome to the Annex,” Connor said once we’d hit our kickstands. “It’s nice, right?”
“It’s adorable.” I nodded, then I stole another glance at the dressed up picnic table and noticed it was only set fortwo. “Meredith and Wit live here?”
“Yes, until their house is finished,” Connor said. “It’s really her parents’ place.” He winked. “But it’s ours for the night!”
