Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
February 2025
Nantucket Island
I t surprised Josie how much strength she had when the three of them got back to Nantucket. Standing at the far end of a wintry beach after a brisk walk, she gazed back at the house. Tara and Cindy were bundled up in the sunroom, watching the water and drinking tea. From where she was, Josie felt as though she could pretend it was any other year on Nantucket. She could pretend that Winnie would scamper outside at any minute and demand that Josie make snow angels with her.
What is the meaning of my life? she wondered now. Did I do enough? Did I love enough?
Am I proud of the decisions I made?
Another blast of wind came across the beach and ripped into her, and she was suddenly terribly cold, eager for a mug of tea or cocoa.
When she returned to the house, she found the year just as she left it, with forty-four-year-old Tara, sixty-six-year-old Cindy, and a drafty house that often felt way too big for all of them. It needed to be filled with the generous spirit of a child, as it once had been.
Maybe Tara would sell it after Josie was gone.
“How was the walk, honey?” Cindy got up to give Josie a cup of cocoa and gave her a side hug. She’d been much cozier and kinder since everything had unleashed back in Seattle. But sometimes, at night, Josie could still hear Cindy talking to Bob. Josie couldn’t blame her mother for that.
Josie sat with her mother and sister for a little while, listening and sipping her cocoa. She was too tired to contribute much.
The topic was Cindy’s “return” to Nantucket and what it might mean to the people she’d once loved.
“It’s just that I don’t know why they would let me back in,” Cindy said.
“You were an avid member of the Sutton Book Club!” Tara reminded her. “You never missed a meeting, and Esme always loved you.”
“She did not,” Cindy said. “She barely knew me. And I’m sure she judges me harshly for what happened.” She meant leaving her girls behind when they needed her.
“The Suttons haven’t had it easy, either,” Tara reminded her before going into the specifics of a family who’d gone through tremendous turmoil after a son’s untimely death, even before Cindy and Bob had left the island.
Josie remembered now that Joel Sutton had died of cancer, too. It was a disease that knew only to destroy and left its echo decades later.
Cindy nodded, remembering. After a moment, she added, “If I’m in Nantucket for a little while, I suppose I’d like to reach out to old friends.”
“Stay as long as you want,” Tara said. “You know you’re welcome.”
Cindy hesitated, and her cheek flinched. Josie knew what was on her mind. Bob was buried out West; she didn’t like to be far from him. But Tara is still alive, and Josie wanted to tell her. She’s got a big, beating heart, and she wants to use it to love you, her mother. Accept it!
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Tara leaped to her feet. Her face was illuminated so much that Josie immediately knew something was up.
“Is it Johan?” Josie demanded. “Did you tell him we got back?”
They’d only flown back to Boston and drove back to the island last night, but Josie guessed that Tara had been texting Johan, updating him on their progress with their mother, flirting with him deep into the night out in Seattle. She was curious how Tara flirted at this age, especially with someone like Johan. Maybe they were both making it up as they went along.
“Who is Johan?” Cindy asked. “Tara? Why didn’t you tell me about Johan!?”
Tara laughed and rolled her eyes before disappearing into the foyer. Josie and Cindy gave one another nervous smiles.
“I wonder what she has up her sleeve,” Cindy said. “She’s so secretive.”
Josie considered the past two weeks in Seattle, during which she’d rested, watched films with her mother and sister, eaten divine seafood, talked about old memories, and built a beautiful—if small—foundation of friendship. Cindy had needed to tie up a few loose ends, and Tara had seemed fine with it, often going out of her way to have conversations Josie would have thought Tara was too frightened to have.
Josie recognized that there had been something strange about Tara for the past two weeks. But when Josie pestered her about it, all Tara said was, “I’m just so happy we’re together again. All three of us.”
People were crying in the foyer. Josie’s and Cindy’s faces transformed, and Josie’s heart began to beat violently. She tried to get to her feet, but she was a bit tired from her beach walk and dropped back onto the cushioned chair.
Tara and another woman were crying and whispering. Tara said, “How was it? Are you all right? Oh, honey, you should sit down.”
The other woman assured her, “No, I’m completely fine! Really.” There was a moment of beautiful silence.
And then, a young pregnant woman entered the living room with eyes only for Josie.
This time, Josie didn’t let her fatigue get the best of her. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Winnie?” she gasped.
It could only be her.
Few moments in Josie’s life were crystallized in her memory forever. Because she’d never had a baby of her own, the birth of Winnie was one of them—the maddening, harrowing late-night Fourth of July labor and delivery, during which Tara had squeezed Josie’s hand so hard that Josie had wept and cried with her, knowing it was all a big and beautiful effort to bring a brand-new soul into the world. That soul was this girl, or woman—Winnie, at twenty-three years old, was the most beautiful person Josie had ever seen. Never had she imagined she’d speak to Winnie again. Tara hadn’t brought up their communication whatsoever, nor had she hinted that this would happen, and Josie had decided to put it to rest in her mind and stop hoping she’d see her or talk to her.
Bringing Winnie here was Tara’s final gift to Josie, maybe.
“Winnie,” Josie whispered again just as she wrapped her arms around her and pressed her tearstained cheek to her shoulder.
Josie couldn’t stop shaking, and Cindy panicked and threw blankets around them. But Josie was just overwhelmed with emotion.
“Winnie, what are you doing here?” she kept asking, as though there was any feasible answer. “You’re pregnant! You’re all grown up! Look at you! You’re gorgeous!”
It was true that she was. She had Donnie’s dark and captivating eyes, Tara’s and Cindy’s fine features, and her belly protruded beneath her dark green dress.
“Who is the lucky guy?” Cindy asked nervously.
Winnie laughed and waved her hand. “Long gone.”
Cindy’s jaw dropped. “That’s terrible! How could he?”
Tara didn’t look surprised. She obviously knew the story already.
Josie resisted the urge to say to Cindy, What do you mean? How could he? People leave each other. Remember?
Josie wanted to say, History is repeating itself yet again . But she didn’t say that, either.
“He took off when he learned I was pregnant,” Winnie offered when nobody said anything else. “But it doesn’t matter to me. He showed me who he really was. And I don’t want that kind of person around my baby.”
“What did your dad say?” Josie asked.
Winnie glanced out the window to gaze at the sea as it pounded and pounded its way along the sand. “He was angry, of course. But I sensed something behind what he said. Something like regret.” She folded her lips together. “We have so much to say to each other, don’t we?”
Josie’s heart leaped. She didn’t want to get into any of it too soon. She just wanted to sit calmly with her niece and listen to every single thing that had ever happened to her. She didn’t want Winnie to leave anything out.
Cindy’s cheeks glistened with tears. Awkwardly, she tapped Winnie on the shoulder and said, “We’ve never met, but I’m your grandmother.”
Winnie offered a strained smile—maybe because she knew what Cindy had done—but hugged her anyway. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she breathed.
Josie and Tara looked at one another as Winnie and Cindy hugged for the first time. The air was taut, and everything felt surreal. Josie wasn’t sure how to rebound from this. On the one hand, she was exhausted. On the other, she could have jumped for joy.
Eventually, Cindy made a call. “Let’s order food and get cozy. It’s freezing out there. Josie, you were crazy to go for a walk.” Cindy bounded into the kitchen as though she’d always been there and proceeded to make more tea and pour wine for those who wanted it. Everyone wanted Winnie to pick where they ate, but Winnie was too distracted, frequently cackling with wonder at being back. Tara made a last-minute decision for Indian food, and Cindy ordered what had to be the entire menu.
“You still like Indian food, don’t you, honey?” Tara asked, clasping her hands.
“I still love it,” Winnie said. “And I’ve entered the ‘hungry’ trimester, I’m afraid. I’ll probably eat you out of house and home.”
“Eat everything!” Tara cried. “Oh, but that reminds me. I stocked up on food, but let me know whatever else you need. There are fruits and vegetables and cheeses and breads, but I’m happy to run out whenever.”
“It’s going to be great, Mom,” Winnie said.
Josie settled back into her cushioned chair, but her heart was pumping so hard that she felt as though she’d just run five miles. Winnie sat on the sofa next to Tara and cozied up under a scratchy wool blanket. From the kitchen came the sounds of a frantic grandmother who didn’t know what it meant to be a grandmother.
Nothing about this was quite right, Josie decided. But they would find a way through.
Food would help.
It always did.
When the Indian arrived, Tara and Cindy hurried to laden plates and bowls with curries, naan bread, and rice. Winnie was in the midst of a story about college, telling Josie about a roommate she’d had at eighteen who’d run away to Norway with some random guy she’d met. “Suddenly, her mom and dad were in our dorm room, screaming at me, asking where their daughter was. I was like, I don’t know! She’s basically a stranger to me!” Winnie giggled and took a plate of curry from her mother. “Thank you, Mom.”
“That’s quite a story,” Tara said, beaming. “Did she ever come back?”
“She did. Three weeks later. Her head was shaved, and she had a big nose ring and loads of stories,” Winnie said. “It made me so jealous that I ended up studying abroad in Rome the next year.”
“Rome!” Josie and Tara cried in unison.
“It didn’t make any sense,” Winnie said. “I was studying French literature, but I was obsessed with the idea of Rome.”
“You must speak Italian?” Tara asked.
“Not as well as you’d think,” Winnie said with a laugh. “When Dad came out to visit me, though, I wasn’t too bad. He was impressed.”
Knowing that Donnie had been there every step of the way—from Winnie’s high school years through college and beyond—felt like a knife in Tara’s stomach. She swallowed and looked down at a curry she wasn’t sure she could choke down despite how delicious it smelled.
Winnie hesitated. She’d sensed the shift in mood.
“I know he wasn’t always good,” Winnie stuttered finally.
Josie and Tara hurried to tell her it was all right.
“We know he’s changed,” Tara said.
“It was a long time ago,” Josie affirmed, although she believed a man like Donnie could never really change. She wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him for what he’d done to Tara. He’d taken Winnie away.
But Winnie left on her own , she reminded herself.
But she was here now.
She was here to say goodbye.
Josie could see that clearly as anything. Winnie was petrified at how slender and sick Josie looked. Josie could sense it in Winnie’s mannerisms, in the way she looked at Josie with buggy eyes, as though she were constantly overcompensating for how frightened she was.
Josie wanted to dip into her now-familiar refrain. I’ve accepted it. I’ve been through too much pain to keep going. I don’t want to put myself through anything else.
Suddenly, it felt ridiculous to say something like that to Winnie—especially now that Winnie was pregnant.
How could Josie say anything regarding her own death when there was so much life in the room?
Josie set her untouched plate to the side and shifted to her feet. She felt shaky and uneven.
“Can I get you anything?” Tara asked warily.
“I just realized how tired I am,” Josie offered. “I might run upstairs and take a power nap. That way, we can talk all night!”
Winnie got up to hug Josie. “You’ll let us know if you need something?”
“I should say the same to you,” Josie said. “I know pregnancy isn’t easy.”
Winnie waved her hand. “It hasn’t been so bad.”
“It wasn’t for me, either,” Tara remembered. “Not after I fainted at the Christmas Festival, anyway. But your aunt Josie took good care of me.”
“Of course she did,” Winnie said with a sad smile. “Nobody takes care of people like Aunt Josie.”
Cindy looked on the verge of tears again. Josie sensed she was heavier with guilt with each passing moment.
Josie had to get out of there. She had to remind herself of her own resolution—to take control of her life and death.
But as she mounted the stairs, everything felt murky and strange.
Was she capable of changing her mind for Winnie and the baby’s sake?
Was she capable of loving something brand-new in a world she’d already given up on?