Page 33 of Vineyard Winds

Russel was quiet. In the fireplace, a log crumbled, disintegrating into ash.

“I’m going to hire Rina,” Claire said. “Officially.”

Russel raised his shoulders. “You know what people do when they feel they’re being chased?”

Claire didn’t answer. Her heart thudded.

“They run faster,” Russel went on. “You’re going to drive her further away.”

* * *

Russel went upstairs to shower the city off him. Claire remained in front of the fire, fuming, her blood pressure skyrocketing. She tried to imagine the father Russel once had been, the one who’d been there in the delivery room with her as Gail and Abby had joined them in the world. That version of Russel would have never been so blasé about one of their girls going missing.

Claire burst to her feet and stormed upstairs to rap on Abby’s door. “Honey? We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s. Pack a bag. We’re leaving in five.”

Abby recognized the urgency in Claire’s voice and jumped in the passenger seat of the van right on time. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was wild and mangy. “What’s going on?” she asked as Claire backed out of the driveway. “Didn’t Dad just get home?”

“Your grandmother wants to cook for us tonight,” Claire lied.

Abby was quiet, watching the snow-lined trees, the houses they’d driven past thousands upon thousands of times, the twittering winter birds in the low-hanging branches.

“Mom?” Abby asked, her voice crackling. “Are you leaving Dad?”

“What?” Claire tried to make her voice high-pitched and friendly. “No.”

But in her gut, another voice muttered a different answer. She just wasn’t fully ready to acknowledge it yet.

Claire pulled into the driveway of the home she’d grown up in, cut the engine, and gazed up at the gorgeous home with its wraparound porch and sturdy oak in the front yard. When she’d married Russel, and when she’d opened the flower shop, she’d known she would never have the wealth her parents had. It now seemed staggering. So many rooms. So many zeros in the bank account. So much comfort in times of strife.

But all the money in the world wouldn’t bring Gail back to her.

After they entered and hugged Kerry hello, Abby hurried upstairs to see Rachel. Claire collapsed in a kitchen chair and rubbed her temples. Her mother’s warm arms wrapped around her, and Kerry burrowed her face in Claire’s shoulder.

“I’ve been praying endlessly,” Kerry whispered. “We need answers.”

Charlotte appeared in the kitchen wearing a big T-shirt and a pair of exercise shorts. With her hair in a flipping ponytail, she looked nearly the way she had thirty years ago when they’d been teenagers. She joined the group hug with Kerry, and together, they held Claire together as though she were a broken pot that needed gluing back together.

A moment later, Andy appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “Hey, sis.” He smiled tentatively, and Claire burst to her feet to hug her baby brother. For so many years, he’d been missing, too.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Claire asked, sniffing. Andy smelled like the woodworking shop he worked in, where he refurbished antiques and built gorgeous wardrobes, desks, and even pianos. The pianos were his pride and joy, stylish and beautiful—but most people didn’t require new pianos these days.

“I got the rest of the day off,” Andy said. “Dad and I are playing chess. He’s killing me.”

“I’ll make up a plate of snacks,” Kerry said. “And we can gather in the living room. There’s a great documentary on right now.”

“Let me guess,” Charlotte said. “It’s about World War II?”

Both Kerry and Trevor were World War II buffs. They’d seen every film and documentary and read nearly every book on the subject. Claire had once suggested that Kerry write her own book based in the forties. To this, Kerry had said, “I don’t need to contribute. I’m no artist. I just love learning as much as I can.”

During the war, both of Kerry’s parents had been in Martha’s Vineyard. They’d fallen in love at the Aquinnah Cliffside Overlook Hotel as the war had raged on in Europe.

“Here’s a surprise,” Claire’s father said as Claire entered the living room. Trevor was stationed in front of the chessboard, with one eye on the World War II documentary and another on Andy’s next movements. She dropped down to give him a hug. She was swaddled in the warmth of her family.

“Maybe I can steal Kelli from the Aquinnah Cliffside Overlook today,” Kerry said, tapping her lip. “It would be nice to have everyone under one roof.”

“Steve’s off gallivanting through California,” Trevor said as he tapped a bishop into place.

“Have you talked to him?” Charlotte asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her mother’s chair.

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