9. June
JUNE
“Hi.”
“Hey there, you doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m… Yes. Just tired. Meredith has been an absolute terror all day. I’m not sure what’s going on with her, but the launch is like, three days away, so everyone’s a bit…”
“Tense?”
“I was going to say insufferable, but that works too.”
“How’s Trent doing?”
“Shaken, I think. Sophie’s got them both on lockdown while they figure everything out.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?”
“You’ve got that voice that means you’re thinking about something.”
“I’m thinking about a lot of things right now.”
“June.”
“Ash.”
“It’s not… I mean… We’re married, right?”
“Last I checked, yeah.”
“And that means properly married, sickness and health and everything?”
“Are you talking around what you want to ask me because you’re embarrassed or because it’s about money?”
“Both?”
“If your sister needs money, you can give her money. I trust you, and from what you’ve told me, that kid needs a fresh start.”
“You don’t know him, though. And, he smashed up a Porsche. We’re not talking a couple of months’ allowance here.”
“June?”
“And we never talked about money, or a prenup, and I’m fine just using my own forever, I’m not exactly broke, but I just?—”
“I already had you added to my checking account. It’ll take a few more weeks for the Amex to come through, but you should have access to?—”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious, June… We’re married. I thought doing this would make spending my money easier for you.”
“It would be easier if you were here.”
“I will be.”
“You said that?—”
“I mean it, I’ll be there for the launch. I was going to surprise you, but…”
“You better not be messing with me right now.”
“I’ve missed my wife.”
“I’ve… God, Ash. You have no idea… I’m… Really?”
“Really.”
“We’re going to have to tell them. As soon as you get here, we’ll have to tell them. I can’t keep it from them, not if you’re there.”
“That’s okay, we can tell them.”
“They’ll hate me.”
“They might be surprised, sure. But they love you, and I think maybe it will help if we tell them that we plan to have a party just without the official ceremony.”
“You really want to have an actual wedding?”
“And show you off to the world? Absolutely, I do. It doesn’t have to be a huge thing. We could do it right out on Sconset Beach.”
“Where you told me you wanted to be with me.”
“Where you rejected me, if I recall correctly. Then jumped off the pier.”
“What was that? The line is breaking up.”
“I love you, June Parker.”
“I love you, too.”
October 2025
By the time I push open the door to Birdie’s, my tears have dried, and I have a singular mission in mind.
To drink excessively and not deal with my problems.
The silence of my house is too oppressive, too knowing, too much for me right now.
I don’t want to think about Ashton. I don’t want to think about courtrooms or bail conditions or Paris IP addresses. I just want the world to stop pressing down on my ribs.
And Eddie—God bless Eddie—is exactly where he’s always been. Nothing cracked or shattered about him either. Just standing behind the bar, laughing at something a local said, towel over his shoulder.
When he looks up, he does a double-take. His whole face changes, the wide-eyed surprise melts into a grin like he’s been waiting for me all along.
“June Parker,” he says, like an announcement. “Well, shit. You didn’t tell me you were back.”
The locals around him pay him no mind, ex-seafarer types that wouldn’t be caught dead around Westmoor (thank goodness). Beyond a curious glance, they settle back to their own business.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I mutter, sliding onto a barstool that might as well have my name carved into it. “Didn’t really have time, it happened pretty quick.”
He nods and pours me a whiskey, neat, sliding it across the bar like he’s always done.
The two sole survivors of the Meredith/Richard fiasco of 2011 saw us in this exact same position one too many times.
Sophie had, of course, been too young to participate, but I wasn’t thinking about her right now.
“You gonna tell me how you’re doing,” he asks, leaning an elbow on the counter, “or do I just keep pouring until you do?”
Relief loosens something in me I didn’t know I’d been clenching.
I don’t have to explain to Eddie. Maybe not ever.
He’s always been like the brother I never had.
Family in the years my sisters were absent.
Loyal to a fault, annoying in the best kind of way, reliable and steady.
And after months of dealing with Mark, of all people, he’s exactly what I need right now.
I wrap my fingers around the glass, take a long swallow, and let the burn do what it’s supposed to.
“Just keep pouring,” I tell him.
Eddie doesn’t even wait for me to finish my first glass before he tops it up. The man’s got good instincts like that.
“You look like hell,” he says, matter-of-fact, but with that crooked grin that makes it sting less.
Still, my rebuttal is expected. “You say that to all the girls?”
“Only falsely accused felons,” he winks. “Always believed you were innocent, though.”
“You liar.”
“Yeah, well. If I had to pick a Holloway sister…”
I swirl the amber in my glass, watching it catch the light. “Don’t get too sentimental on me, Eddie. I came here to get drunk, not coddled.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He leans back, folds his arms, and studies me. “But drunk and honest usually come as a package deal.”
“Then keep pouring, and we’ll see what happens.”
He does, only this time he helps himself to my glass.
Downing the whole thing in one before shouting (to the disgruntlement of the locals) that he’s going on break.
With a jerk of his head, we both make our way over to a booth—Eddie snagging a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses on his way out from behind the bar.
“Better switch to something lighter, you’re too old to be passing out on my couch,” he explains as we take a seat.
“Beats a holding cell any day.”
He smirks as he pours us both a glass. “Look at you, all worldly-wise.”
“Bit soon to be making fun of my trauma, don’t you think?”
Eddie purses his lips. “So, you got a time limit on that or something?”
I hit him. It’s a feeble thing, my hand barely reaching across the table, but he groans like it’s a sucker punch. “Ow.”
“Baby.”
He rolls his eyes before we clink our glasses. The chime is a welcome, warm sort of sound that settles something in me that’s been anxious since I stepped off the ferry. Nothing has changed in Nantucket; everything’s the same as it’s always been, and that might actually be absolutely fine.
“So… did Meredith head back with you, too?” he asks, oh-so-casually. Nonchalantly taking another sip of his wine. Entirely too relaxed.
For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Why, you miss her or something?”
“Missed you both, obviously.”
I hum, narrowing my eyes at him. “Yeah, but you don’t want to stick your tongue down my throat.”
He freezes, pupils blown, fully caught in… wait. What.
“She told you about that?”
It’s my turn to freeze. “Told me about what? Told me about what, Eddie?”
His face is suddenly hidden behind his hands, an act of embarrassment that is so uncharacteristic of the man that I almost don’t believe I’m witnessing it. The pieces all fall into place.
“You guys?—”
“It was just before your arrest, okay,” Eddie suddenly snaps, voice pitched at an urgent hush. “We never had a chance to discuss it, so please, please, don’t make a big deal about this.”
I stare back at him, so caught off guard I can barely process it. “I… she… You had a girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Eddie swallows. “June, I couldn’t… not with Mere back. I had to… damn it.”
Understanding suddenly hits me like a train. “That’s why she was so uninterested in Mark’s try-hard attempts to get her back. Because she kissed you. Because she knew you’d be waiting for her to get back.”
Eddie frowned a little at that, eagerly finishing his drink. “So it’s true then? She hired him to represent you?”
I tilt my head. “You jealous, Ed?”
“Not jealous,” he shoots back. “I just wish she’d told me. I’ve not heard a thing since she left. It’s all been second-hand from whatever I could get out of Sophie.”
Well, that doesn’t sound right. Living with Meredith in close quarters for three months had given me some insight into her daily rhythms. When she wasn’t working on the case or remotely managing the Shack’s administration, she was on the phone.
Most of the time, it was Sophie. I remember the sheepish looks she’d always throw my way before disappearing into the next room.
She’d tried twice to convince me to talk to our other sister before realizing she wouldn’t get anywhere. We were backed against a wall and needed to pick every battle we could.
But why ignore Eddie? Was Meredith still so emotionally constipated that she couldn’t communicate about their relationship? Or am I not giving her enough grace for prioritizing me over everything else in her life?
I shake my head as if that might help me get my thoughts straight. “Relax, she only hired him because he’s the best, and she couldn’t exactly afford anyone else. He offered pro bono.”
“What’s he like?”
“Honestly?” I take lean in conspiratorially. “He’s an asshole.”
Eddie lets out an indignant snort. “Oh yeah?”
“All he did was talk and talk and talk, I swear Meredith was seconds away from snapping his neck like fifteen separate times,” I chuckle to myself, remembering a particularly eventful evening when takeout noodles were thrown at his immaculate suit.
“But, he got me cleared of all charges, so I can’t badmouth him too much. ”
“No, please. Do carry on.”
I roll my eyes. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you. I promise, there’s nothing to worry about.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “I just wanted to know if she’s okay.”
That lands heavier than the whiskey ever did. I rub my temple. “She’s fine. Better than fine. You can ask her in a few days, I’m sure. She had to detour to Boston, but now that everything’s settled, we can all just… go back to normal.”
“Yeah,” he says, watching me steadily. “Normal.”
And here we go, stumbling into territory I don’t want to tread tonight.
Meredith and Mark and Eddie or whatever geometry of disaster they’ve drawn themselves into—it’s a good distraction, the best, even. Though I don’t voice my thoughts out loud, not when Eddie is finally looking less tense about it, I can’t help wondering.
Meredith said she suspected the only reason Mark had swooped in with the grand “pro bono savior” routine was because he wanted her back.
And after three months, I was inclined to agree with her.
He wasn’t any less insufferable, but he was clearly only going to such lengths for my case because he wanted to be around her.
It was shameless manipulation, but it wasn’t like we weren’t all aware of it.
Well, snooze you lose, asshole. Meredith had clearly moved on; that’s just what you get for cheating with your secretary like the worst cliche imaginable. Besides, Eddie is great. More than great, he’s already family.
Selfishly, I know I’d like them back together because it might tether Meredith here, in Nantucket. After three months of sharing a living space with her, through the ugliest stretch of my life, I don’t want another fifteen years to pass before I see her again.
Eddie is happy to sit quietly for a while, no doubt lost in his own Meredith-inducing thoughts.
I let my head tip back against the wall and close my eyes, letting the classic 80s rock blur into the throb of alcohol in my veins.
For a few blessed minutes, I rejoin the unchanging nature of Nantucket. Unbothered, unmarried.
“You spoke to Sophie, yet?”
I huff out. “That’s a quick way to kill the mood.”
“Don’t dodge me, June.” His tone’s light, though I don’t open my eyes to see what I’m sure is probably a very knowing expression. “She’s your sister. You guys should be on speaking terms, or the rest of us are going to have an aneurysm.”
I straighten a little, gripping my glass tighter. “Eddie, I spent the last three months living in a hotel room, strapped with a government-issued anklet, speaking to nobody but Meredith and Mark. I didn’t exactly have the luxury of dropping Sophie a postcard.”
He watches me calmly, “You think Meredith should have called me, though, right?”
“Sophie’s too busy being heartbroken that I didn’t send her an engraved invitation to my town hall elopement,” I flinch only after I’ve said it.
“It’s not like she didn’t keep Trent a secret for eleven years.
Forgive me if I wasn’t eager to play confessionals about my personal life when it was already being pried apart by an actual prosecution.
Besides, the phone works both ways. She could have called me at any point during the worst months of my life. ”
“Would you have answered?”
“Yes!” I say, but it sounds like I’m begging him to believe me.
Eddie watches me for a moment, eyebrow raising slightly at my defensiveness. “Sophie cares, June. You know that. She was angry because she felt shut out, not because she stopped giving a damn.”
Something hot prickles behind my eyes, and I shove it down. “Well, she’s got a funny way of showing it.”
“Maybe so.” Eddie shrugs, tilting his glass toward me. “But she’s still waiting. And if I know Sophie, she’ll keep waiting until you give her something. She’s got Trent to think about, too, so it’s going to be on you.”
I look away, focusing on the too-loud laughter of some of the locals still loitering around the bar. Because he’s right and I hate him for it.
Sophie, Meredith, Trent—the whole mess of family I’ve somehow managed to tangle and alienate in record time—it’s too much to pick apart tonight. There’s too much of everything to pick apart tonight.
And yet, against my better judgment, my mind slides somewhere it shouldn’t.
To the quiet weight of a hand at the small of my back, the warmth of a laugh in my ear, as we dance around my mother’s birthday marquee, content in our little secret bubble.
I want that comfort now more than I want another drink, and the realization is a knife in my gut.
The wall I’ve been holding up cracks without warning, and before I can stop it, the tears spill.
Eddie doesn’t say a word. He just shuffles around to my side of the booth and slides an arm around me. Pulling me into his chest, steady as ever, letting me fall apart without a single question.