A Vineyard Crossing

by Jean Stone

  She closed her eyes again as questions began to nag her. Why had she been so hell-bent on trying to figure out what Simon Anderson was doing there? What had she been trying to prove? That her amateur investigative skills could unearth a sinister motive? And, most important, would she ever learn to stop treating real life as if it were fiction, as if she could create a plot with twists and turns that felt like the real stuff, resulting in an ending that she wanted?

  While a mystery might offer readers a pleasant escape, being able to write one didn’t mean Annie could control what was really going on. And if she hadn’t been so damned inquisitive, this “accident,” as John called it, simply would not have happened. Not to mention that all she’d learned was at some time between working at the Globe and moving into broadcasting, Andrew Simmons changed his name and the color of his eyes. Big whoop. Who cared? The information hadn’t been worth the outcome.

  Maybe there had been nothing sinister involved, and he’d only changed his name because he thought Simon Anderson suited him better, sounded more successful. Still, if Annie hadn’t been so edgy, so ashamed that she’d been caught, she could have asked him. Plain and simple.

  Weighted by guilt, worried for her brother, she would have let out a loud sob if she hadn’t known it would awaken Meghan, who, hopefully, had slept peacefully.

  Slowly opening her eyes, Annie turned toward the other makeshift accommodation. It was too dark to see if Meghan was awake; if she, too, had been ruminating on what-ifs and if-onlys.

  Then a burst of fluorescence lit up the space.

  “I know no one is in here because that would be against hospital protocol,” a woman declared. “But it’s five thirty, and as the nurse supervisor, I must check to be sure everything is in proper order.” She closed the door, and Annie heard the pattering of footsteps fade.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “Meghan. You’re awake now, right?”

  But Meghan didn’t answer.

  Fumbling for her phone, Annie quickly lit the icon of the flashlight. “Meghan?” She beamed it to the other bed, which had been neatly stripped. And Meghan’s suitcase was gone.

  Annie tried her best to smooth her hair. Then she pulled the linens off the bed, grabbed the vase of roses and her canvas bag, and made a quick escape. On her way past the nurses’ station, she left the roses on the counter. With a hurried thank-you wave to the nurse supervisor, she headed for the ladies room. Her next stop would be ICU; she prayed that Meghan had wound up camping out in the waiting room.

  * * *

  Meghan wasn’t in the ICU waiting area. Annie turned in the opposite direction, walking past the elevators and the stairwell. Then she saw her curled up on a love seat in the waiting room across from maternity; someone—a caring nurse, perhaps—had covered her with a thin hospital blanket. A heavy ache pressed down Annie’s heart.

  Meghan did, however, look as if she were asleep. Or perhaps in a stupor of emotion and exhaustion.

  Annie quietly sat in a chair next to the love seat. No one else was there; with only three ICU beds in the hospital, she guessed it was a well-monitored place year-round, controlled by a bustling medical staff whose presence blended with the beeping of technology and the random sounds of machines that were keeping patients, keeping Kevin, alive. And might have kept Meghan awake if she’d been in the waiting room over there.

  “Annie?” Meghan’s voice was small, timid.

  Quickly moving to where Meghan could see her, Annie stooped and touched her shoulder. “I’m here. I wasn’t surprised that you snuck out of the closet.”

  Meghan gave her a half smile. “I wanted to be close to him. I went into the ICU waiting room first, but it was noisy. And this was roomier. They let me stay.”

  “How is he?”

  “I saw him. He’s hooked up to monitors and IV bags, but he’s asleep. He has a breathing tube. Which is hooked up to a ventilator. But he looks comfortable enough.” She sat up; she twisted her hands together. “His hair has gotten gray.”

  “That must be my fault,” Annie said with a smile. “The stress of his having a big sister.” She straightened the edge of Meghan’s blanket. “Do you think they’ll let me see him?”

  “Sure. Go ask. Lorna is the head nurse on duty. Only one of us can go in at a time, and you can only stay a few minutes. And you’re not supposed to touch him. To help prevent infection.”

  Annie stood up. “I don’t know what time the cafeteria opens, but it’s on the first floor . . .”

  “Thanks, but the staff is wonderful—the nurses tried to wait on me all night. I had tea, but I haven’t been hungry.”

  “You snuck up here early, then.”

  “As soon as I figured you were asleep.” She smiled again, an inconsequential gesture but one that helped ease the heaviness that Annie felt.

  Still, as she went to the ICU nurses’ station and waited to be noticed, Annie wasn’t sure that she deserved to see her brother. But when Lorna saw her, she led her to the doorway of his room, repeated the directives Meghan had already shared, then squeezed Annie’s hand and left her alone.

  * * *

  It was peaceful in the room; the lighting was dimmer than it would be if he were in crisis. In spite of the breathing tube, he slept, his respiration steady. Thank God, or whoever was in charge.

  Annie pulled a chair next to the bed and sat. And, for the first time since she’d received confirmation in the Anglican Church of Greater Boston, Annie prayed—really prayed, not merely the “Please, God, get him through this and I’ll do anything you ask of me.” Instead, she simply asked for help. For a swift and permanent recovery for Kevin. And that she’d be forgiven.

  After a few minutes, she was aware of a figure standing in the doorway. Lorna stood there, silent.

  Annie got the message. She stood up and went into the hallway. “Thank you,” she said.

  Lorna nodded. “The doctor will be here soon. I’m sure it’s encouraging that your brother had a good night.”

  Annie thanked her again, then headed back to the waiting area and Meghan. But just before she reached the stairwell, the heavy door opened, and an imposing figure tramped out, heading toward ICU. The mane of auburn hair that bounced with each determined step belonged to Taylor. And she was on a rampage.

  Chapter 27

  “No one told me!” she growled. Thankfully, Taylor knew to keep her voice down in the hospital, especially in the ICU. An EMT, after all, would be well aware of protocol. “No one! I had to pull it out of my son, who apparently is more important in Kevin’s life than I am!”

  “Taylor,” Annie said, grateful she was headed toward the nurses’ station and not the waiting room where Meghan was. “Please. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

  “I want to see him. I’m entitled to see him.”

  “No,” Annie said, her voice as low as possible, “actually, you aren’t.” She scanned the area. “Let’s go out to the garden.” Without waiting for consent, or for an argument, Annie took Taylor by the elbow and swiftly steered her through the ICU unit, hugging the wall of windows to obscure the view inside the rooms, parading the irate woman down the hall and out the door to the rooftop garden.

  They were greeted by the early morning sun, melon-colored in the dawn of day. Annie led her to a seating area, careful to take a single chair rather than a long bench made for more than one. She didn’t want to be that close to Taylor. She motioned her to sit on the other side, a small table between them. Then she noticed that, like Kevin, Taylor sported a golden tan; Annie didn’t want to think about them together on a blanket on a tropical beach.

  Taylor sputtered, then sat down. She crossed her legs, her long, pink-and-white-and-orange-striped gauze skirt draping in loose folds. Her wardrobe was noticeably different from the jeans and flannel shirts that Annie was accustomed to seeing her in on Chappy. Her whole appearance was softer, more feminine, as if Hawaii had transformed her.

  “I had to pay extra for Fred to bring me across,” she said. “The firs
t run’s not ’til six forty-five.”

  “I know,” Annie said. She’d lived on Chappaquiddick long enough to know the On Time schedule better than the one for the big boats.

  Staring out at the water, Taylor asked, “Why didn’t anybody tell me? Jesus. I’m a freaking EMT. Maybe I could have gotten to him sooner . . .”

  “Taylor, please. It all happened so fast. Simon took control and . . .”

  “Who?”

  “One of our guests. Simon Anderson.”

  “The TV guy?”

  “Yes.”

  “The same guy who shot him?”

  Annie knew she had to fill her in on a few details before Taylor heard a version of the story that might have become altered from a lengthy chain of telling. She started by explaining that Simon had been staying in the cottage, and that Annie had gone inside to try and find an envelope of research that she needed for her book. It was, of course, a lie, but Annie had no intention of telling her the whole truth. She went on to say Simon was shocked when he came in unexpectedly and saw her in the bedroom after she’d been prowling through her trunk. She said he shouted at her, and Kevin must have heard him. That part was true, including that Kevin must have raced up to his truck and grabbed his gun before he’d run back to the cottage. She told her about the scuffle, and how Simon had been the one who’d called 911.

  The abridged account was conceivable.

  Taylor was mute. In the time Annie had known her, she’d never seen the woman so quiet for so long.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t find out right away,” Annie said. “It had nothing to do with you—I didn’t know you were here. And as I said, everything happened fast.”

  Taylor toyed with one of the folds of her skirt. It looked as if she was trying to pleat them according to the pastel stripes.

  “I heard that John arrested that guy. Simon.”

  Annie shook her head. “No. He questioned him. He also questioned me. Our stories were the same. John’s going to wait until Kevin wakes up, of course, because he wants to question him, too. But as of now, it’s being called an accident.”

  Flipping her mane back from one shoulder, Taylor snorted. “I’ve heard more believable tales that turned out to be lies.”

  Aside from providing good health care, one of the nicest parts about the hospital was that it sat up on a hill that overlooked both Vineyard Haven Harbor and Lagoon Pond. Annie looked past Taylor to the harbor now, where one of the big boats was visible behind a Black Dog tall ship—the vintage schooner Alabama. The vessels rested on still water—seeing the peaceful image calmed her.

  “Taylor,” she said, “nothing ominous happened. Three of us were there. So far, two of us have explained the details the same way. As, without a doubt, will Kevin. Please, don’t try to stir up trouble where there isn’t any.”

  Taylor stopped pleating the stripes and stood. “I want to see him.”

  Annie jumped up. “No. You can’t.”

  “Of course I can,” the woman grunted. “For one thing, I’m an EMT. I can get access if I want. For another thing . . . I feel partly responsible. Kevin didn’t want to come back; I talked him into it.”

  Of all the things Taylor could have said, Annie hadn’t expected that. “Okay,” she said. “Then please hear me out.”

  Taylor paused.

  “The reason no one told you last night is because we were trying to protect you.”

  “From what? A little blood and chaos? As if I haven’t been around that most of my life?”

  Annie sighed. “No, Taylor. We were trying to protect you from finding out that Meghan is here. Meghan. Kevin’s wife.”

  The tanned complexion paled. “But . . .” She didn’t seem able to continue.

  “It’s a long story,” Annie continued. “And it’s taken a long time. But she’s healthy now and doing well.”

  Taylor shook her head. “So Kevin has played me for a fool.”

  Annie leaned forward. “Kevin? No! He didn’t know. The last time he saw her she didn’t recognize him.”

  “And suddenly she’s better?” She flipped her mane again, her attitude returning. “Well, then. It’s a bloody miracle.”

  She hurried away as Annie called after her. “Taylor. Stop. Please don’t make a fool of yourself. Now isn’t the time.”

  But she stalked off, a woman scorned.

  * * *

  Annie stayed on the rooftop garden, trying to regain her mental balance, if she had any left at all.

  Not your circus . . . Murphy whispered, letting Annie know this was neither her show nor her responsibility. It was nice to know her old friend was back to hovering.

  Tipping her head up to the heavens, Annie wanted, needed, conversation. And no one was around to see her talking to the air.

  “But we’re talking about innocent people, Murphy. Meghan was doing what she thought was best. She didn’t know until recently that she really was going to be okay. And she felt guilty about losing the baby. And Kevin . . . well, Kevin’s been trying his damnedest to make a new life. God knows that what he’s been through before today has been tragic, too. The bottom line is, Taylor’s never been my best friend, but she’s an innocent party, too, caught in the middle of something no one was aware of. So this is no circus, Murph. It’s just life, I guess, and people—none of whom set out to hurt anyone, or to be hurt.”

  Um . . . I already know those things. I see everything from here. And I think it’s time to let love happen—or not happen—as it will. Then Murphy’s words trailed off, drifting up to the orange sunrise sky. Though Annie didn’t feel much better about the situation, she at least felt as if she were no longer on her own in this . . . whatever “this” turned out to be.

  She took her time going back into the hospital. When she stepped into the corridor of the ICU, she fully expected to see Taylor in Kevin’s room. And that Meghan would be standing in the doorway, watching.

  Moving stealthily, Annie went to the glass wall of the room. Kevin was lying in the bed, his face turned in her direction. His eyes were closed. And he was alone.

  “He looks peaceful, doesn’t he?”

  Annie jumped. She pivoted on one foot and saw Meghan approaching.

  “Sorry,” Meghan said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Shaking it off, Annie replied, “I’m just . . . it’s just . . .” She knew she had to tell her that Taylor had been there, that she’d had come back with Kevin.

  Meghan reached Annie and stood next to her, her eyes fixed on the figure in the bed behind the glass. “I know Taylor’s back,” she said. “I know she was here.”

  Annie’s throat started to flutter; it felt as if she’d swallowed a tiny bird. She feared if she spoke, her words would come out in small chirps. “I’m so sorry, Meghan,” she managed to say. “I had no idea that she’d come back with him.”

  Unlike tall, lofty Taylor, Meghan was petite; Annie hoped that the contrast between what looked like strength versus fragility was deceiving.

  “I told her,” Annie said. “I told her you’re here.”

  Again, Meghan nodded. “I know. She told me. She saw me in the waiting area. She introduced herself.”

  The bird inside Annie threatened to take flight. “How did she know who you were?”

  Meghan shrugged. “Kevin’s the only one in the ICU. She saw me. She must have figured it out. Maybe he’d told her what I look like—my eyes, my skin color, who knows?” She turned from the glass and put her hand on Annie’s arm. “It’s okay, Annie. I’m okay. What will be, will be, right?”

  Part of Annie wondered if Meghan had been talking to Murphy, too. She looked back at her brother, thinking how upset he’d be if he knew he was causing so much anguish to the people he cared about. “Can I interest you in coffee? Somewhere outside the hospital? I think it’s safe to safe to assume that Kevin isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Maybe.” She pressed a palm against the glass. “But let’s wait until the doctor comes, okay?”

&nbs
p; “Absolutely.”

  They went back to the waiting room and sat, passing the time with minimal conversation. It was mid-morning before Doctor Mike arrived.

  “He’s doing okay,” he told them. “I’m still concerned about the possibility of bone fragments, so let’s see how today goes before we wake him up.” It looked as if he was smiling behind his mask. “Patience isn’t always easy, but sometimes it’s the best medicine.”

  Annie figured that Meghan already knew that.

  * * *

  After seeing the doctor, a nurse let them shower and clean up in the staff locker room. Then they left their belongings at the nurses’ station along with their phone numbers in case anything happened to Kevin while they were gone.

  Because Annie had arrived in the ambulance and Francine had driven Meghan, they went outside and hopped the bus to Vineyard Haven. They got off at the Steamship pier and walked up Main Street to Waterside Market, where they shared a breakfast egg wrap of cheese, spinach, tomato, and avocado. It was as energizing as it was colorful.

  After a second cup of coffee, Annie said, “The library is right up the street. It’s the only one on the island that’s open Sundays. Maybe I can do some of the research I wanted to do yesterday.”

  “About Simon?”

  “Yes. I’d love to find anything he wrote about Brian’s accident. I was in such a fog for so long I could have missed something important. Some clue as to why Simon’s here.”

  “You don’t think it’s a coincidence, do you? Even though it’s been more than twenty years?”

  “I don’t. It’s too strange, and he’s acted oddly since I picked him up last week. Besides, I need to do something constructive right now. Instead of worrying about my brother.” She paused. “Would you like to come with me?”