Chapter 24
Twenty-four
I woke up early and a little achy on the floor. Worried about waking Wit and Meredith, Connor and I hadn’t done much to make ourselves comfortable last night. We’d cobbled together a couple patchwork quilts and couch cushions for pillows.
It also appeared that we’d fallen asleep holding hands. It took a couple blinks to realize where I was and that I was holding our clasped hands to my heart.
Connor was still passed out, so I lightly kissed his knuckles before unlacing our fingers and rising from our nest on the floor.
Something delicious-smelling wafted in from the kitchen, and I followed it to find Meredith slicing strawberries at the small granite countertop and Wit pouring coffee.
“Morning, Olivia!” He smiled and held up a pink-and-blue cow printed mug.
“Coffee? We suspect you didn’t get much sleep last night. ”
“I am so sorry,” Meredith said. “Loki is my family’s dog, and he’s unfortunately gone rogue in his old age.” She shook her head as I faintly remembered Swede meeting a “Loki” on the ferry. A Jack Russell Terrier. “And I feel awful you slept on the floor when the bunk room was empty…”
“Please don’t worry about it,” I told her as Wit handed me my coffee. “We were mentally prepared to camp already.”
Meredith laughed. “Right, so now you deserve a five-star breakfast. The frittatas are in the oven, and based on the aroma, I think they have plenty of promise.”
“I’ll go wake Connor,” I said, then I retreated to the cozy sitting room. Connor was unsurprisingly still dead to the world, although he’d shifted so that he was on his back with an arm thrown lazily over his head.
He looked both adorable and handsome, and the warmth blooming in my chest told me I needed to take a picture. I needed to capture Connor, in case…
Well, in case nothing. I refused to let my mind drift to last night.
But my phone wasn’t hidden in our blankets or under the couch cushions.
I couldn’t even find it in the deep depths of my tote bag, which probably meant I’d accidentally left it behind in the tent last night.
After Connor and I’d decided to bail, we’d hurried to grab only the essentials and left the rest until we returned to dismantle the tent.
My phone must’ve been forgotten in the late-night shuffle.
Paqua Farm was very gray today. Above was an overcast sky, and in the distance churned a dull ocean.
The trees, meadow, and flowers all appeared muted, and I shivered when the breeze snuck up on me.
There was no one around, not even a distant bark from Loki.
It felt gloomy, maybe even a little ominous.
Have the Foxes have ever considered renting to Hollywood? I wondered as I followed the trail toward our abandoned tent. You could film a seriously melancholic period drama here…
I doubted Meredith would find that flattering.
My phone lay face down a few feet outside the tent; I must’ve dropped it when we fled.
I crouched to pick it up, and was surprised to find it still had some battery.
And even more surprised to see some notifications since I had next to no signal.
A couple emails, an Instagram DM from Quincy, several texts, and about forty minutes ago, I’d missed a call from my dad.
The last one spiked my pulse.
Why had my dad called me?
He’d also left a voicemail, but it wouldn’t load. Everything alright? I texted him, and when the message took its sweet time to send, I tried to call him. Twice. The first attempt made a valiant effort to connect; the second immediately dropped.
Heart hammering, I ran back toward the Annex.
Because something had to be wrong, right?
My dad wouldn’t call and leave a message if he just wanted to check in, or know what time Connor and I would be back later.
Was Swede projectile vomiting something he’d eaten?
Did Bryce accidentally refracture his wrist?
Had Maisie choked on grapes at breakfast?
She liked to goof off, tossing them in the air and catching them in her mouth…
Or, I didn’t want to think, but did. Or…
Had something happened back home?
At Elkins?
That had to be it. That had to be it. Blood was pulsing in my ears by the time I turned onto the Farm’s main road, beating so loudly that I barely heard my name called.
“Olivia!”
I glanced to my left to see Erica waving at me in her favorite oversized FAIRFIELD UNIVERSITY sweatshirt. How had she gotten here? Our car was nowhere to be seen.
By Boston Whaler?
“Hi,” I said slowly, as she picked up her pace. Something in my bones told me to stop in my tracks, to wait for her. “Is everything okay?”
What a stupid question.
Something was clearly wrong.
Instead of answering, my stepmother wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight.
The hug felt more like a straitjacket than a warm embrace, like she thought I might run away, or maybe she had really paid attention to how Annie delivered bad news to me over the years.
When she’d told me about Pops passing, I could barely feel my blood circulating.
But I’d never felt safer.
Now, a hard lump rose in my throat. “Is Annie…” I started, but I didn’t want to say the rest aloud, for fear that it might be true.
“No,” Erica whispered, “but Elkins called this morning.” She paused. “She’s had a really bad fall, Liv.”
Big, hot tears threatened to escape—crocodile tears, Annie called them—and everything in my body told me to pull away from Erica, but I didn’t have the strength.
Or maybe I didn’t want to.
“She’s in the hospital,” she continued, now stroking my hair. “It sounds like she might need surgery, so your dad is going to drive home today. He’s packing right now, and we booked a ferry out of Vineyard Haven in a couple hours.”
This time I did break away from Erica, suddenly desperate to move. Desperate to take action. “I need to get my stuff,” I told her, wiping my eyes before wildly gesturing to the Annex. “We need to get back to the house. I need to talk to him.”
“Okay.” She nodded; her eyes were glassy. “Let’s get your stuff.”
* * *
According to Elkins, the last few days for Annie had been incredibly difficult.
She’d been irritated with the nursing staff, refused to eat meals, and was endlessly restless.
If she did manage to fall asleep at night, she woke up in the wee hours of the morning and insisted on taking a shower.
A night nurse complied, and then she’d be dressed by 3:00 a.m.
Her fall had not been especially dramatic.
She hadn’t slipped in the shower or gotten up from bed and collapsed.
“She stubbed her toe on the carpet,” my dad told me when Erica and I got back to the house.
Maisie and Bryce didn’t know; they were making waffles with Nick.
“She didn’t lift her foot up enough when she took a step. ”
“Turf toe,” Erica softly said. “That’s what the lacrosse team called it in college whenever someone tripped on the turf.”
My dad took her hand and tried to smile, but his lips were a thin line.
“When do we leave?” I asked, a rasp in my voice.
“Liv.” He sighed. “You don’t—”
“When do we leave?”
“A half hour.”
That was all I needed to hear; I spun on my heel and hauled ass to my little room upstairs so I could start packing. Only the essentials, I told myself. I’d ask Maisie to grab my beach towel off the clothesline and bikini from the hook in the outdoor shower and bring them home next week.
Next week.
We had come up here for three, and I was ducking out after two. Topper and Peggy hadn’t even had their anniversary dinner yet.
It’s okay, I told myself. This is an emergency.
My heart hammered as I unzipped my huge suitcase and started throwing things inside, organization be damned. Pajamas, sneakers, bras, rain jacket…
I heard a knock on the door while I quickly balled up my socks.
It was Erica, holding my two glittery cosmetic cases from the bathroom.
“Light packer” would never be on my résumé.
“I’m pretty sure I grabbed everything.” She offered them to me.
“If any nail polish is missing, Maisie probably has it.”
“Well, at least it’s safe,” I said. “Thank you.”
Erica folded her arms across her chest. I wanted to return to my turbo-packing, but she clearly had something to say.
And I didn’t need to prompt her.
“You shouldn’t feel obligated to go,” she said gently. “Your dad can handle this.”
I tried to keep my cool. “I don’t feel obligated,” I said. “I want—need to go. This is Annie.”
“I know.” Erica nodded. “I understand, but this trip has been so wonderful for you, Olivia. Do you really want to give up your last week of vacation to sit in the hospital?”
It felt like she’d slapped me in the face.
My cheeks certainly burned like she had.
“It’s only her arm—”
“Are you serious?” I cut her off. “Are you seriously suggesting that I blow off Annie—who is hurt and sick and so alone—to continue running around this island?”
“No.” Erica shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
I didn’t care.
“I get it,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I’ve been paying attention these last couple weeks.
You aren’t close to your parents—you can’t even decorate a scrapbook!
—so it’s impossible for you to grasp why I am the way I am with Annie.
” I laughed hollowly. “But just this once, I wish you would try to understand!”
Pulse pounding, I waited for Erica’s rebuttal, but it came in the form of a step backward, like I’d shoved her. “Please say goodbye to your brother and sister before you go,” was all she said, then she turned and disappeared into the hall.
“Don’t worry, I’m hurrying,” I said when I heard resolute footsteps a few seconds later. Definitely my dad, eager to get on the road.
But it was Connor who appeared in the doorway. My heart dropped like an elevator.