Annie hung up the phone and curled herself into a ball in one corner of the couch. She was shivering convulsively. Mary found a wool blanket in the chest in the downstairs bedroom and wrapped it around her. She brought Annie the tea, holding the cup while she sipped. Then Annie looked up at her.
“Oh, God, Mary,” she said. “What have I done?”
Mary sat down next to her. “Maybe there’s a lesson in this,” she said. “For you and me both. I’ve made it too easy for you. I’ve let you live out my own dreams, which were never meant to see the light of day. I’m just as guilty as you are.”
“Shh, Mary. Don’t talk about guilt.” Annie shook her head, kneading her hands together in her lap. There was no color at all in her face. “It hurt so much,” she said. “They said it wouldn’t be bad, but it was
horrendous,
and I deserved every single solitary ounce of the pain.”
“No, you didn’t,” Mary said. “You…”
Something crashed against the outside wall of the house and Annie jumped. “I don’t
like
this,” she said. She drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders as the wind whistled eerily through the room.
“We should go upstairs,” Mary said.
Annie was slow on the stairs, in more pain than seemed normal for such a thing. Mary settled her into the small bedroom she had come to think of as Annie’s. She watched as her young friend climbed into the bed, fully clothed and still shaking, covering her ears against the sound of the wind as it screamed through the upstairs rooms. She was beginning to babble, not making much sense at all, and her skin felt hot to the touch. Mary soaked a washcloth in cool water and bathed Annie’s face and hands. She would lace her next cup of tea with Southern Comfort.
“It’s stopped,” Annie said suddenly, sitting up in the bed to listen. Indeed, the rain
had
stopped. The wind was still, and when Mary looked out the window, she could see stars.
“Yes,” Mary said, shivering herself. She would let Annie believe what she wanted, although she knew it was only the eye of the storm passing over them. Soon it would all begin again.
By that time, though, Annie was asleep. Mary kept watch by her bed, sitting up the entire night, listening to the house strain at its roots.
Annie’s color was better in the morning, and the fever had broken. Mary left her sleeping while she surveyed the damage. Rain had swept under the doors and through the cracked windows, but otherwise everything inside was in one piece. The electricity was still out, and her phone had died sometime during the night. Outside, she found the crushed metal lid to a garbage can resting against her front porch. The shape of the beach had changed overnight, the sea oats closer to the water, the pitch of the sand steeper. The lighthouse looked unscathed, although she would have to check the lantern room later.
When she returned to the kitchen, she found Annie mopping the rainwater from the floor.
“Here,” Mary said, taking the mop from Annie’s hand. “You shouldn’t be doing that.”
Annie sat down weakly at the kitchen table, folding her white hands in her lap. “I dreamt last night it was Alec’s,” she said quietly.
Mary stopped mopping to look down at her. “Annie, you felt very certain it was Paul’s.”
Annie closed her eyes, nodded.
“Now, I admit I don’t know much about this topic,” Mary said, leaning on the mop, “but that diaphragm you’re using to keep from having babies just isn’t fail-proof enough for—” she hesitated, hunting for the words “—for someone like you.”
Annie ignored her. “I’m going to get pregnant again as soon as I can.”
Mary looked at her squarely. “You can’t bring that baby back.”
“I know,” Annie said in a small voice. “But I’m going to try. And this one will be Alec’s for sure.” She must have seen the doubt in Mary’s eyes, because she added, “I
swear
it, Mary. This one will be his.”
The crossword puzzle had fallen from Mary’s knees to the porch, and she did not bother to pick it up. She thought about Paul Macelli, still burdened by things that had happened so long ago. She thought of Annie, and of herself, and she knew that whatever lesson the three of them had learned back then had been all too quickly forgotten.
C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-
S
IX
There were a dozen yellow roses waiting for Olivia in the emergency room when she arrived for work Friday morning.
“Are they from Paul?” Kathy asked her, as Olivia opened the card.
You were right, and I was wrong—Alec.
Olivia smiled. “No,” she said, slipping the card into the pocket of her white coat. “They’re not.”
It had been just twenty-four hours since she’d left Alec and Lacey alone to hash out their differences without her. And without Annie. When Alec didn’t call her last night, she figured that either things had not gone well or he was angry with her for her tirade. It relieved her to see that neither was the case.
Mike Shelley called her later that afternoon. He wanted to take her out to dinner after her shift, he said. “Not a date,” he added, laughing. “My wife’s standing right here, ready to intervene. I just have something I want to talk with you about. Is seven okay?”
“Fine,” she said, wondering exactly what she was agreeing to.
He took her to a small seafood restaurant in Kitty Hawk and waited until their entrees were served before satisfying her curiosity.
“The personnel committee’s made its decision,” he said.
“Oh?” She could not tell from the tone of his voice whether she should smile or frown.
“It was hairy there for a while, but I think deep down each of us knew who we wanted. We held off making a decision until the whole Annie O’Neill fiasco had died down. We were all impressed with the way you handled that situation, Olivia. As Pat Robbins on the committee said, Olivia Simon knows how to keep her wits about her in
and
out of the ER.”
She smiled at him. “You’re saying I’ve got it if I want it?”
“Yes,” Mike said. He looked at her quizzically. “Do you have some doubts about taking it?”
Olivia looked down at her plate. “I’ve appreciated how you’ve stuck by me through everything, Mike. I want to be thrilled. I
am
thrilled, but at the same time…”
“What?”
“It’s my husband. He doesn’t want to stay here.”
“I thought…you’re separated, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I keep hoping…” She shrugged. “Well, I guess this will be the big test. I’ll tell him I’ve got the offer and see what happens. Maybe he and I need a crisis—we just plod along, not together, but not totally apart either. I suppose this will move us in one direction or another. May I have a few days to decide?”
“Absolutely.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m not one of those people who thinks you should put career over family, Olivia, regardless of what sex you are. So whatever you decide, I’ll understand.”
“Thanks.”
“At the same time, though, you’re the one the ER needs. It’s going to expand—it’s
got
to—and we need someone there who can handle the changes.”
She felt a hunger in her that had been missing for a long time. There was a challenge in front of her, tempting her, waiting for her to grab it. She wished she could say yes and be done with it.
“Mike, there’s one more thing you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m pregnant. The baby’s due in January.”
Mike’s eyes widened. “Wow.”
“I don’t intend to take much time off, if everything goes well. Maybe I should have told you before, but I…”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t change anything with regard to the offer.”
She smiled, relieved. “Good.”
“Well.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m supposed to bring you home with me for some dessert when we’re through with dinner, on order of the director of my household. Okay with you?”
“I’d love it,” she said.
For the first time, Paul was looking forward to the meeting at Alec’s. It might give him a chance to really get a look at Lacey, and sure enough, she was standing in the kitchen with her father and Nola when he arrived. She was drinking a Coke from the can, and she looked at him with more than a passing interest when he walked into the room. Could she possibly know? Was there a chance Annie had told her something?
He said hello to the three of them, unable to take his eyes from Lacey’s face. He tried to imagine her without the Halloween hair. She was Annie, through and through. He could see no one else in her features; certainly there was no trace at all of Alec.
“Wine’s already in the living room, Paul,” Alec said as he walked past him, with Nola close on his heels.
“I’ll be there in a second,” Paul said. “I just want to get a glass of water.” He reached toward the cabinet over the sink and looked at Lacey, who had boosted herself onto the countertop. She was wearing a short, hot-pink T-shirt and white shorts. Her feet were bare. “Glasses in here?” he asked.
“Next one,” she said. “To your right.”
He filled the glass with water and took a long drink. Then he leaned back against the counter to study her. “I checked the notes I made when I interviewed your mother, Lacey, and for some reason she did say you were twelve.”
Lacey wrinkled her nose. “That is totally weird,” she said.
“Maybe she was a little nervous about being interviewed.”
The girl shook her head. “She never got nervous over anything.” She swung her bare legs out in front of her and studied her pink toenails. “Your wife is really nice,” she said.
He frowned at her. “How do you know… Oh. You met her at the hospital the night your mother died.”
“Yeah, but that’s not really how I know her.” Lacey took an annoyingly long drink from her can of soda, and when she finally set the can on the counter, there was a coyness in her smile. “Actually,” she said, “I talk to her every night.”
“To my wife? To
Olivia?
”
“Yeah. She insisted. See, what happened was, one night I slept over her house and…”
“You stayed at her house?”
“Uh-huh, and then she said I had to call her at midnight every night, and she somehow talked my father into making all these rules for me.” Lacey grinned, rather happily. “She’s positively wrecked my life, but she’s kind of hard to stay mad at.” She held up her hand to show him a black and silver watch. “She bought this for me.”
“Paul?” Alec called from the living room. “We’re about to get started.”
“I’ll be right there,” he called back, but he didn’t make a move toward the door. “Why did you sleep over her house?” he asked.
“Because my father had to take my brother to college and was going to be gone all night. So Olivia is, like, really close friends with my father and she said I could stay there.”
Paul stared at the cloisonné horse on the other side of the room. “I didn’t realize she was friends with your… I guess she’s helped him with the talks he gives on the lighthouse, right?”
“Well, they only did that once.” Lacey held the can to her lips again, leaning back to swallow the last of the soda. “They go out sometimes,” she continued. “You know, to dinner or whatever, and sometimes she comes over here at night to use my mother’s stained glass stuff.”
“Your mother’s…?”
Lacey let out an exasperated sigh. He must be sounding as dense as he felt. “Her stained
glass
stuff,” she said. “You know, her
tools
and things.”
There was laughter from the living room. Paul set the empty water glass in the sink, his hand shaking badly. He struggled to make his face unreadable as he turned back to Lacey.
“But Olivia doesn’t work with stained glass,” he said.
“God, you must not have seen her in a while. She takes lessons at my mother’s studio every Saturday morning from Tom Nestor. He’s the guy who…”
“I know who he is.” Paul tried to picture Olivia at Annie’s work table in the studio. He tried to imagine her out to dinner with Alec, laughing with him, telling him…what? She’d been here at Alec’s house.
Annie’s
house. Playing mother to Annie’s daughter.
“Paul?” It was Nola this time, an irked quality to her voice.
“I’d better go,” he said.
“Yeah,” Lacey grinned. “You don’t cross Nola Dillard and live to talk about it.”
He knew the moment he sat down on the sofa that he could not stay. His confusion was turning to anger. What the hell did Olivia think she was doing?
Alec was talking about the upcoming tour of the keeper’s house, now scheduled for the following Tuesday.
“Alec?” Paul interrupted him, standing up, and everyone raised their eyes to him.
“I’m sorry,” Paul said, “but I’m going to have to leave. I’m not feeling well. I thought I could make it through the meeting, but…” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Do you want to lie down for a while?” Alec asked.
“I have some aspirin,” Sondra Carter offered.
“Is it something you ate?” Nola asked.
“No.” He began backing away from them, the color rising in his face. “I’m sure I’ll be all right once I’m out in the fresh air.”
They were quiet as he walked the few steps to the front door and let himself out. Once outside, he wondered what they were saying about him. Probably not much. They would probably just get on with the meeting, and later Alec would call him to make certain he was all right. That would be exactly like Alec. He wondered what kind of sympathy and understanding he’d been giving Olivia these past couple of months.
He drove south toward Kitty Hawk, fifteen miles over the speed limit, trying to think of what he would say to her when he finally saw her face-to-face. Anything he said was sure to come out as a growl. There was no way he could do this calmly.
The house was dark when he arrived, her car gone.
Damn.
He was ready. He was bursting to have this out with her.
He sat down on the front deck. Where was she? Who was she off with tonight? Maybe she was at the Battered Women’s Shelter. He could go over there. He closed his eyes, smiling ruefully at the image of yet another irate husband creating a stir at the shelter.