Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Anna
The ferry rocked gently as it glided into Vineyard Harbor, whitecaps flickering beneath the pale April sun.
Anna clutched Nora’s hand and shifted Blaze’s overnight bag higher on her shoulder.
The twins hummed with their usual rhythm of chatter and questions: how much longer, what kind of cookies would Grandma have, or whether they could go to the beach that day.
Anna responded without thinking, answers tumbling out while her mind drifted to the conversation she had dreaded.
Luke had only been gone a few days, but the silence in their home had been suffocating. His goodbye kiss still clung to her cheek. The second he walked out of the doors, it was as if all the air in the world had escaped with him.
Luke had been in the military for their entire marriage.
He’d joined at the age of eighteen, and this wasn’t his first deployment.
Even though he was nearing retirement age, or rather, he was close to his twenty years of service, she was certain that it wouldn’t be his last deployment either.
Something about this one felt different to her, though.
Luke would turn thirty-seven next week, and because of the short notice, they hadn’t been able to celebrate. If she sent him a care package, it wouldn’t make it there in time either. She was struggling with that.
Maybe that’s what was making this deployment feel different.
Maybe it was because this time, they had kids at home, and the last deployment like this was before they were born.
Back then she’d always thought he was indestructible.
Now, there was the constant question of what if he doesn’t come back through those doors?
She blew out a long breath, knowing that kind of thinking only led to trouble. She needed to manifest her husband coming right back through those doors, happy, healthy, and in one piece. That’s how she’d gotten through the deployments before. That’s how you survived as a military spouse.
Anna had been meaning to come back to the Vineyard for more visits since her dad had passed, but there was always too much going on at home. She’d begged her mother to come stay with them, but she always protested that she couldn’t leave the pottery studio unmanned.
Anna hadn’t been there for her mother like she should be, like she wanted to be, but mostly because her mother wouldn’t allow her to be.
Her mother rarely answered phone calls or attempts at talking about her father; it was like she’d built a stone fort around herself and wouldn’t allow anyone to penetrate it. Not even her own daughter.
“She won’t talk to me either,” Cody had said on the phone a few months ago. “If I didn’t know where the spare key was, she’d probably never let me in the house either. I’m worried about her, sis. So is Margot. She’s lost weight and hardly smiles or laughs anymore.”
“Margot told me. Every time I plan to come home, one of the kids gets sick or something is happening at school, and they can’t miss it.”
“I get it. I’m trying my best. It’s why I came home.”
“I know,” she had murmured before they hung up the phone.
David Hartman had been larger than life.
Everyone who met him loved him. He was a good friend and mentor, an amazing father, and an even better grandfather.
The love he had for his wife was evident in the way he treated her and spoke about her.
David and Lily Hartman’s marriage set the bar incredibly high for their children.
No one was ever ready to say goodbye to a parent, and with his dying in a car accident, the goodbye was stolen from the rest of the Hartman family, and they were all struggling with that realization. They felt David’s loss deeply, like part of the air wasn’t fit to breathe anymore.
Heck, Anna hadn’t even been able to fully grieve the loss of her father, either. Does a mom ever really get that opportunity when she’s responsible for keeping two tiny humans alive? It didn’t matter right now, now she was too worried about what state her mother would be in when they showed up.
The drive from the ferry landing to her mother’s house felt like slipping into an old, familiar dream.
Anna rolled down her window, letting the warm salt air rush in, tousling her hair as they drove past weathered gray cottages and picket fences tangled with Rosa Rugosa beach flowers.
The narrow roads curved gently through Vineyard Haven, sun-dappled and shaded by trees that arched like old friends welcoming her home.
The kids were in the backseat, faces pressed to the glass, calling out memories like they were spotting landmarks in a fairytale.
“That’s where we got ice cream last summer!
” Nora squealed, pointing. “And remember that lighthouse?” Blaze added, practically bouncing.
As they turned down her mother’s quiet street, the ocean peeked out between the houses, just a flash of silver-blue, and both kids shouted in unison, “I can’t wait to see Grandma!”
Anna smiled as the house came into view, tucked behind the dune grass and swaying hydrangeas. Her heart beat a little faster.
They pulled into the driveway, and the kids were practically trying to tuck and roll out of the car before she came to a complete stop.
“Calm down, guys,” she giggled.
Anna stepped out of the car and just stood for a moment, staring at the little house nestled between the trees.
The shingles were grayer than she remembered, the hydrangeas fuller, but it was still the same.
Her mother’s porch. Her childhood summers.
That ever-present hush of the ocean just beyond the trees, like the island was breathing in time with her.
Blaze was already scrambling out behind her, his backpack half unzipped and swinging from one shoulder. “Mom, I forgot how close Grandma lives to the beach!” he shouted, taking off around the car like he was being chased by the wind.
Nora wasn’t far behind, her eyes wide as she spun in a slow circle on the gravel drive. “It smells like salt and sunscreen and cookies,” she announced, grinning. “I remember this place.”
Anna smiled, her hand resting lightly on the car door as she took it all in, the white trim around the windows, the old swing hanging from the oak in the yard, the glint of water just visible through the dune grass beyond the fence.
A wave of something warm and aching moved through her.
This was the place that built her, the place where scraped knees were kissed and fireflies were caught in mason jars.
It should have felt like home. But as they walked up the overgrown path, Anna noticed the curtains drawn tight, and something in her stomach knotted. The place felt paused, like someone had hit Stop on life and forgotten to press Play again.
Margot and Cody had warned her, but she didn’t fully understand it until now.
Blaze ran ahead, nearly tripping on the stone walkway. “Grandma!” he called.
When Lily opened the door, she looked almost surprised. Her silver hair was twisted up hastily, and David’s cardigan sagged from her thin shoulders. There was flour, or maybe clay, on her hands. Her eyes flicked past Anna to the bags, the car, the kids.
“Oh,” she said softly. “You made it.”
“Hi, Mom,” Anna managed.
Nora was already halfway into a breathless story about ferry snacks and seagulls. Lily bent stiffly to hug her, then Blaze.
“Grandma, I fed the seagulls just like Grandpa used to teach us, too. There were crumbs everywhere, and they surrounded me like I was their king!” Blaze exclaimed as he gestured wildly.
“You’re lucky they didn’t poop on you,” Nora giggled as she shook her head. “Grandpa told you to wear a poncho, just in case.”
Lily flinched at the mention of David, but not enough that the kids noticed. Anna was watching her mother like a hawk, though, looking for the silent signs that Margot told her about.
“I’ll get the guest room ready for the kids; you can stay in your old room,” Lily murmured.
“No need. We’ve got it,” Anna said quickly, already turning toward the trunk. “We’ll take the twins’ stuff up.”
Inside, the house carried its familiar scent, lemon, salt air, but something else lingered now, something stale. Dust outlined the baseboards. A coffee mug with dried remnants sat beside a forgotten jigsaw puzzle. The photos on the walls were slightly crooked.
The twins didn’t notice. They charged through the house like it was an amusement park, shouting memories, asking for cinnamon toast like Grandpa used to make. Lily smiled, but the corners of her mouth didn’t lift the way they used to. She looked like she might cry.
In the kitchen, Margot was unpacking groceries like she owned the place. Her white curls were pinned back with a red scarf, and her lipstick was perfect, as always.
“Good lord,” she muttered. “The fridge looked like a science experiment.” She glanced up and grinned. “Anna, sweetheart, you look like you’ve been wrangling tornadoes all day.”
Anna laughed before she hugged her. “That’s about right. Thank you for being here.”
Margot tapped her shoulder. “You’ve got enough to deal with. I’m just here to help where I can.”
In the other room, Blaze sang off-key while Lily sat beside him with a book. Her posture was too careful, like she was mimicking how to be present.
“She’s not okay,” Anna whispered.
Margot’s smile softened. “No. But she’s trying. And she needs you, even if she doesn’t know how to ask for it. This might be the thing that brings her back.”
“I hope so,” Anna murmured. “Because I can’t do this alone.”
“You’re not alone,” Margot said, placing a firm hand on her arm. “You’ve got me and Cody. And you’ve got her. Just give it time.”
“I didn’t know…I should’ve known because she rarely answers her phone, and when she does, she’s so quick to hang up. I should’ve come to check on her.”