Chapter 16 #2
“Okay,” I said, pulse picking up—thrilled at the thought of being alone with Connor. “Yes, I’d love—”
“Olivia!” I heard someone emphatically knock on Summer Camp’s door, and my sister’s muffled voice. “Olivia, are you alive?”
“What is it, Maisie?” I called back.
“You need to hurry up! We’re getting ready for the game, and Nana’s also going to announce tonight’s theme…”
Oh, right, I remembered. Last night at dinner, Peggy had casually mentioned another family activity today. And we were also going out to some type of themed dinner tonight, another Carmichael tradition.
I’ll be right there! I tried to muster, then looked at Connor. He gave me a thumbs-up in understanding, but that didn’t make me feel better.
“I actually have plans,” I told Maisie, reaching for Connor’s hand. He started shaking his head, but I squeezed his fingers. “Connor and I are grabbing breakfast in town.”
“Well, you didn’t need to drag me into it…” he whispered.
“There’s nothing for you to be dragged into,” I whispered back. Because attendance wasn’t required, was it?
“Oh, okay,” Maisie said, still out in the hall. “I’ll let everyone know.”
I grimaced, not loving the sound of that.
“Will you be at dinner, though?”
“Yes, of course,” I said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” I told her, and five seconds later, she retreated down the hall.
Ten minutes after that, Connor and I left the house by way of our porch.
Swede bounded up to us as we crossed the driveway, and when Connor opened the Jeep’s passenger door for me, I had to stop my golden retriever from leaping into the car.
Nice try, buddy, I thought as I gave him three big pets goodbye.
Connor offered me his aux cord, and after DJing for a handful of songs, we cruised into Vineyard Haven. Like preppy Edgartown, there were countless cedar-shingled houses, but from the storefronts and people strolling the sidewalks, I could tell Vineyard Haven had its own vibe.
Eclectic, I thought. Homey.
Waterside Market was on Main Street, with a black-and-white awning and porch covered with wicker tables and chairs. There was not one empty seat, and the aroma of fresh coffee, blueberry pancakes, and bacon made my stomach rumble.
Thankfully, the line wasn’t that long. There was more seating inside, a massive beverage case, and tables that showcased homemade chocolate chip cookies, baskets of fruit, and a selection of wine.
Plus, shelves lined with jellies, jams, and hot sauce.
Two fancy chalkboards flanked the front registers, one advertising breakfast and the other Waterside’s signature sandwiches.
“You first,” I told Connor when we hit the front of the line.
Smiling, he shook his head. “No, you first.”
“I can’t decide what to order.” I bit my lip in consideration. “I’m torn between the Tex-Mex and flapjacks.”
“Ah, the never-ending debate between sweet and savory,” he said before shifting his gaze to the cashier. “We’re going to share the Tex-Mex and flapjacks…” He glanced at me. “Chocolate chip?”
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 sounds incredible.” 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-Mex sauce… “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—really happy—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, let myself 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 so busy with?
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, I was starting 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 to him 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 been dealing 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.
“I thought that was you two!” Someone thankfully stopped my thoughts from spiraling, and I turned in my seat to see Christian Fox and another familiar-looking old man. Andrew, his older brother. I remembered him mostly sitting next to an easel at the Foxes’ Fourth party.
Swiftly and suddenly, I felt the tug of a thread in the back of my head.
What had he been painting?
And how long—
“Good morning, Mr. Fox,” Connor said, rising from his chair and extending his hand. “You here for breakfast?”
“We just finished up.” Christian chuckled as they shook hands. “Please call me Christian. Our father was Mr. Fox, even to us occasionally.” He glanced at Andrew, who’d seemingly missed the inside joke, focused on something else.
“Meredith has told me about you,” he said to me, his blue eyes bright but a little intimidating, “Forgive me for being remiss, but which one of Topper and Peggy’s children do you belong to?”
In other words: How are you related to the Carmichaels?
“Erica is my stepmother,” I said politely. “This is my first time on the Vineyard.”
Oh, how wonderful! I expected him to say, but instead, I caught him imperceptibly elbow Christian, who nudged him back. The motion turned them from old men into young brothers.
What is going on? I wondered.
“We should head out,” Christian said. “We’re due to meet our daughters for a match.”
“Tennis?” Connor asked.
“That’s a generous way to phrase it,” Andrew said with a wink. “It was lovely meeting you, Olivia. Feel free to come to the Farm anytime.” He looked at Connor. “A little birdie told me we’ll be seeing you tonight?”
Tonight?
Connor nodded. “I volunteered to bring s’mores supplies.”
Andrew tipped an invisible hat. “Good man.”
“You’re hanging out with Meredith tonight?” I asked once the Fox brothers had taken off for the tennis courts.
“Yeah,” Connor said. “I figured since you guys have your dinner…”
Right, I remembered. We had reservations at a restaurant called Alchemy and would arrive in full Carmichael costume. Maisie had texted me earlier from our dad’s phone to say that the theme was “Historical Figures.”
It was a little more dignified than the “barnyard” theme Nick had been teasing.
“But that’s later.” Connor waved his hand. “What matters is now.”
“Now?” I casually raised an eyebrow, but I felt my pulse quicken.
“Do you have your list of Annie’s hot spots?” he asked. “We can pick our next place.”
Chilmark, I immediately thought of the blue-gray photo with tiny cottages and big nets and faded red buoys. The Menemsha fishing village.
I gave him a look. “You sure you want to do this with me?”
“Of course.” Connor pulled off a goofy shrug. “I’m on a mandatory vacation. What else do I have to do?” I felt my heart spin when his lips spread into a slow smile. “And there’s no one I’d rather spend my time off with than you.”
He truly is fearless, I thought. Fearlessly up-front.
Feeling myself blush, I glanced around at Waterside’s crowded porch before leaning across our table and raising my hand as if I were going to whisper a secret in his ear.
But instead, I used it to cover our faces so no one would see us kiss.