by E. C. Diskin
“We’re human,” Lina chimed in.
“And humans aren’t perfect,” Tori said. “Well, except a few of us.”
Everyone chuckled.
The doorbell rang, and Tori was the first up to answer the door.
When Mack stepped inside, Kat sprang from her seat and ran to him. They held on tight, and she fell apart all over again. This time, with tears of relief. She finally felt like she was home.
EPILOGUE
One year later
KAT AND MACK SAT IN the back of a taxi, holding hands. With legs crossed, she nervously tapped her heel against the floor. She checked her watch several times while the driver maneuvered through traffic. Even though she traveled nearly every week for work, flying into Chicago was never quick or painless.
Mack finally put his hand on her knee and squeezed. “Breathe.”
“We’re late,” she said.
“No one will mind. We’ll just sit in the back.”
She smiled, sighed, and put her hand on his.
She removed her dark glasses as the driver turned off the expressway and began driving through the streets of Maple Park. Despite the sight of budding trees, blooming magnolias, and children playing T-ball in the park, everything about this journey was different from last time, except for the fact that Saint Andrew’s was, again, filled to capacity.
They quietly found seats in the back pew as the minister began the service.
When it ended, Mack squeezed her hand. “You okay?”
“Yep.” She wiped her eyes and blew her nose before they followed the crowd outside. Tori and Herman came out after them.
“Tori!” Kat yelled, waving at her from across the crowded sidewalk.
Tori’s face was priceless as she and Herman rushed over. “You said you couldn’t come!”
“We figured it out,” Kat replied, looking at Mack.
Kat and Tori embraced while the men did their half hug and handshake move, followed by quick hugs between the couples.
“That was a beautiful service,” Kat said to them both.
“It was. Oh, Lina would appreciate this so much.”
“I had to be here,” Kat said. “I mean, it’s weird, but I think I felt closer to her in the last year than I did in all the time we lived here.”
“She told me that you two would FaceTime when you were traveling.”
“Yeah, we kept each other company. We played a lot of Words With Friends.” They had also begun a name-that-face game in which Kat would take pictures of random people she’d see at airports or on the street while traveling around the world, and Lina was given three guesses to determine what celebrity the person most resembled. Some were impossible to guess, which made them both laugh, but on two different occasions, Kat actually captured genuine celebrities walking by. One aging rock star—far kinder than his reputation would have suggested, and someone Kat knew Lina admired—even agreed to record a video greeting that she sent her. Lina told her she’d watched it at least a dozen times.
“She always put on a brave face when we talked,” Kat said. “How was she, really, at the end?”
“You know Lina. She was so strong. But she was ready. She was sick of the pain. It was a long year.”
Kat nodded. Unlike Shea’s death, which felt so sudden and impossible to grasp, Kat had seen Lina’s thinning face and the wincing with each move in the final months. She’d wished for an easy, painless passing for her friend. It was the only comfort left.
“Her kids were here,” Tori continued, “by her side, holding her hand at the end. I know it gave her a lot of peace that they both seem to be doing well. And she talked about getting to be with Bill again. I think in some ways that makes it a little easier for the kids, too.”
Kat dabbed her eyes with a tissue and wrapped her arm around Mack’s back. It would be a great comfort to know they’d see each other on the other side.
“Georgia, Dee, and I were at the hospital a lot in the last several days,” Tori continued. “We all knew it was coming. And amazingly, she had good humor, even at the end. I was sitting at her bedside, feeling a little overwhelmed, tearing up, and she squeezed my hand and whispered that I needed to come closer. So I leaned in, very near her face. And she said, ‘Now don’t forget, if you go to my bedside table before the kids find it, there’s some pretty sweet Mary Jane in there. You ladies go have some laughs. My treat!’”
Kat, Mack, and Herman all laughed. “Did you get it?” Kat asked, giggling through tears.
“Absolutely!” Tori replied.
Dee came out the church doors, and they all took turns embracing.
“Oh, I miss these faces,” Kat said to Tori and Dee.
“Hey,” Tori said. “Guess where we’re going this weekend?”
“Lemme guess,” Kat said. “The lake house.”
“Yes! This time the men are coming, too,” she said, poking Herman with her elbow. “So we’ll behave,” she added with a laugh.
“My presence has never curbed any of you women,” Herman chided.
“True,” Tori said. “The guys are going to take the boat out and fish. Georgia and Bob are coming . . .”
“And I’m bringing a date!” Dee added.
“What?”
“Oh yeah. This is my new young beau’s coming-out party.”
“How young?” Mack asked with a smirk.
“Don’t you worry,” Dee joked. “Nothing too scandalous, but just a lot of fun.”
“Well, you deserve it,” Kat said. “What’s the occasion?”
“As it turns out,” Herman said, “all our kids are on spring break . . .”
“And none of them are coming home!” Tori finished his sentence. “Mexico and Florida are far more appealing. So we’re going to cheer each other up.”
“Georgia still has kids at home,” Kat said.
“Yeah, but she didn’t want to miss out. They’ve arranged for some sleepovers and grandparent time, just for the weekend.”
Kat was glad to hear Georgia was going along. Blake’s death and the uncertainty of her own culpability had haunted her, but a couple of months after Kat went back to Texas, they learned that Blake’s body had finally been found. It had been a gruesome discovery by a couple of fisherman who were casting lines along the boulders by the lighthouse. The official conclusion was that Blake must have tried to tie up his boat, slipped on one of the large wet boulders offshore, and fallen in the deep water. His body had been found wedged between two boulders, entirely submerged under the surface.
It meant he’d been coherent enough to unmoor his boat and drive all the way there. That was enough for Georgia to let it go. She’d hurt him, but she hadn’t killed him.
“You two should come with us!” Tori added.
Kat and Mack looked at each other and smiled.
“We’re bringing Lina’s stash,” Tori added with a laugh. “Come on. It will be just like old times!”
“Actually, we rearranged our flight to stop in Chicago, but we’re on our way to Europe!”
“No way!” Dee said.
Mack put his arm around Kat. “Yep. This sugar mama is taking me on a spectacular two-week vacation to one of her hotels on the French Riviera.”
“Finally putting all those frequent-flyer miles to use,” Kat added.
“Well, it sounds amazing,” Tori said. “But better than Ohio?”
Everyone laughed.
“Okay, then, when will we see each other again?” Tori asked.
“I’m sure we’ll be back,” Kat said. “Perhaps right here even, as your kids start getting married.”
“Bite your tongue,” Tori joked.
“Well, how about a girls’ trip to Texas? You could see our house. We could do a road trip to Austin or Galveston. It would be great.”
“I’m in!” Dee said.
“Me, too,” Tori mimicked, wrapping her arms around Kat. “No boys allowed,” she added over her shoulder.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my be
autiful, spirited, hilarious, complicated, and generous girlfriends, thanks for your friendship, support, love, and inspiration. And a special shout-out to Heather Pflederer—thanks for introducing me, all those years ago, to Lake Erie’s treasured islands and for the years of girls’ getaways that inspired the what-if for this story.
As always, a big thanks to all the Cains and Diskins for your love and support (and, in particular, to Jim, Jimmy, and Caroline, because you’re the ones who had to live with me during that intense month of edits last winter). Thanks to my early readers, Maury Cain, Cynthia Quam, Martha Whitehead, Julia Buckley, Maury Byrne, Tanya Cain, and my dear Jim Diskin. As usual, your feedback was enormously helpful. Thanks to Craig Genheimer at Ohio State University for your help and insights regarding the South Bass Light Station on South Bass Island, Ohio. And, of course, thanks to everyone at Inkwell, with special thanks to Liz Parker and David Hale Smith, and the whole team at Thomas & Mercer, with special thanks to Jessica Tribble and Caitlin Alexander for your expertise and insights.
To all the librarians, book clubs, booksellers, and writers who have become supporters and friends, thank you. And finally, thanks to my readers. Whether you’ve read all three or this is your first (hopefully not your last!), I’m eternally grateful for your interest and your time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2017 Sandy Sameshima
E. C. Diskin is the author of the bestselling novels The Green Line and Broken Grace. She lives outside Chicago with her family. Find out more about E. C. and her work at www.ecdiskin.com.