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Lola drove bleary-eyed back to the cabin in the woods she shared with her fiancé, Tommy. In the driver’s seat, she sat in the darkness of the driveway, watching as Tommy’s shadow eased from one end of the cabin to the other, preparing for bed. Through one curtain, she watched his shadow as he rinsed off the bowl he’d used for dinner. In the next panel, he stood before the television for another minute, catching the last moments of whatever show was on. Then, he disappeared into the back of the house to brush his teeth and splash water on his rugged and handsome face. Lola’s heart pattered wildly, the way it often did when she felt endlessly grateful for what she had.
That was the thing about accidents. When other people experienced potential loss, Lola swam in their trauma, terrified that something like that could eventually come for her and Tommy and Audrey. If she’d had to pick Audrey up from an accident site, she would have sobbed through the whole thing. Susan was so much stronger than she was. That, or maybe she was just better at pretending that she was strong enough to go on. That seemed like the Susan Sheridan way.
Once inside the cabin, Lola removed her spring jacket and hung it on the coat rack nearest the door. Her shoes off, she walked softly through the kitchen and the back hallway, charting the course back to where Tommy remained on the other side of the bathroom door. There came the sound of his swishing his mouth clean with Listerine, then the rush of the water as he cleaned out the sink. When he opened the door to find Lola, he nearly leaped back with fear.
“Lola!” His eyes widened. “I thought you were staying at the Sheridan House tonight.”
“I just had to come back to see you,” Lola murmured, genuinely lost in the sea of her own fears. She stepped into his burly arms and pressed her cheek against his chest as her legs shivered beneath her. I never want to lose you, Tommy. Never, ever.
Together, Tommy and Lola sat at the kitchen table over mugs of steaming tea and watched the dense night outside the window. Lola explained what she knew of the accident and that she couldn’t calm the quaking fears in her mind, which forced her to come up with horrible conclusions about her own future.
“You’re safe,” Tommy whispered finally, a hand wrapped around hers. “We’re all safe. We’re going to be all right.”
Not long after that, Tommy’s cell rang out across the house. Tommy cursed himself for having not put it on silent and then cursed technology along with it. “We don’t need these stupid devices.”
Lola stepped toward the sink to clear out the mugs of tea, listening as Tommy answered. The clock on the wall read: 11:47 p.m. Who could be calling at that hour?
Tommy reappeared in the kitchen, his face blotchy. “Yeah? My number? I don’t understand...”
Lola bristled at the confusing one-half of conversation. She whirled around, one mug still lifted, to watch as Tommy collapsed at the kitchen table.
“You’re kidding.” Tommy shook his head and dropped his forehead onto his palm. “Beatrice. Wow. I had no idea she was even on the island.”
Lola dropped the mug into the sink with a thwack and joined Tommy at the kitchen table, her eyes heavy with fear. Whose was Beatrice? Tommy’s face illustrated confusion, sorrow, and something else— something primal that she couldn’t fully name.
“What happened?” Tommy demanded then, which forced Lola to listen to the in-between silence, during which she could only guess what the other person on the line explained.
“I’d love to come up tonight,” Tommy muttered.
Lola’s heart skipped three beats. Up where? There were no ferries so late at night, which meant that whatever this was, it was island-based.
“Okay. Thank you. Thank you for everything,” Tommy sighed into the phone. “Good night.” He then shuddered as he lay the phone back on the table and placed his fingers over his cheeks.
“Tommy. Talk to me,” Lola whispered, terrified of whatever came next.
“My Great Aunt Beatrice,” Tommy muttered. “She’s up at the hospital tonight after a car accident.”
Lola’s eyes widened. A car accident? She slightly remembered what Amanda had said about the other driver involved in the hit-and-run, an older woman in her sixties who’d hardly been conscious in the moments after the crash.
“Your Great Aunt Beatrice?” Lola balked, remembering the name from Tommy’s list of people he wanted to invite to the wedding. “I had no idea she was on the island.”
“Me neither. Apparently, they found my number on a sheet of paper inside the purse they brought back from the accident. Since she’s a senior, she wasn’t so keen on things like...” He lifted his cell phone, acknowledging the technology he’d only just cursed a few minutes ago. “Anyway. Aunt Beatrice doesn’t have much family to speak of besides me, which is why they used that phone number. It was their only way forward.”
“Did they say how she is?” Lola whispered.
“She was unconscious for a good two hours after they brought her back from the accident, but they were recently able to revive her and talk with her about simple things, like the weather and the date. I asked about coming up tonight, but they said it was better to wait for the morning.” He shivered, disgruntled. “I have no idea why she’s here so many weeks before the wedding. And no idea what to do next.”
“All we can do is offer our support,” Lola whispered, stepping up to drop herself onto Tommy’s lap and kiss him delicately on the cheek. “All we can do is be at the hospital first thing tomorrow morning and comfort her all we can.”
“I hardly know the poor woman,” Tommy murmured. “She’s the last link to my mother.”
Tommy’s mother had passed away earlier that year, an event that had rocked him to the core in ways that had surprised Lola. Prior to his mother’s death, Tommy had seemed the kind of guy who didn’t uphold the power of family. Now, with a wedding on the way, a true love for his ex-stepdad, Stan, and a wealth of relationships with the rest of the Sheridan clan, that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Before Lola led Tommy to bed that night, Tommy made sure his shift was cleared on the freight line the following morning. Over the winter and springtime, he’d taken over multiple shifts for Scott Frampton’s freight liner, often waking up before four in the morning and returning by noon. As summer approached, Tommy’s work on the freight liner had grown increasingly infrequent— especially as he’d taken up work at the sailing docks once more, a space he called “where his heart belonged.”
“We’ll be up there by visiting hours,” Lola whispered to him coaxingly as they fell into a deep sleep, her hand-stretched across the coarse hairs of his chest.
But the final thoughts her mind gave her before unconsciousness were, I knew that we weren’t safe. I knew there was something wrong.
She couldn’t shake this eerie feeling, not even in dreamland, where nightmares shrouded her mind.
**
HOSPITAL VISITING HOURS began at ten o’clock the following morning. Heavy with anxiety, Lola and Tommy idled in Tommy’s truck outside the hospital at nine-thirty as the radio spat between stations, unable to hold the tune.
Lola had already reported the news of the potential hit-and-run victim’s identity as Tommy’s Great Aunt Beatrice to her sisters, daughter, and niece. The Sheridan Women group chat was a live wire that morning, kicking out words of encouragement, empathy, and confusion all at once.
SUSAN: The poor woman.
CHRISTINE: What was she doing on the island so soon? Your wedding’s not for another few weeks...
AMANDA: I feel terrible that this happened.
AUDREY: Tell us everything when you meet her!
At ten on the dot, Tommy and Lola reported at the front desk of the hospital and followed a nurse in light blue scrubs to Aunt Beatrice’s bedroom, where she’d been moved after the severity of her injuries had dissipated. Lola and Tommy remained wordless until they stood in the doorway, peering down at a very tiny woman with wrists the size of a child’s and dyed blonde hair that curled wildly around her ears and across her shoulders. Her cheeks and arms were covered in gashes from the glass, and she wore a significant bandage across her upper arm, proof that something in the accident had gotten her good.
Two bright blue eyes peered out from the propped-up pillow. After a moment of quiet surprise, Beatrice called out, “Tommy! Is that really you?”
Tommy leaped for the seat at her bedside, drawing both hands forward to take her tender one in his. “Aunt Beatrice.” He staggered through his words, incapable of making much sense. “What are you, I mean. What are you doing here?”
Beatrice’s smile was secretive and genuine, the sort of thing she didn’t show everyone. “I came for your wedding, of course.”
“But Aunt Beatrice, the wedding isn’t for another few weeks,” Tommy protested.
Beatrice cast her eyes to the glittering white sheets. For a split second, Lola thought that maybe the woman was losing her mind. Maybe she’d lost track of the date of the wedding. Maybe the loss of Tommy’s mother, her niece, had devastated her so much that she’d lost her memories, which was what had happened to Lola’s Aunt Willa.
“It’s terribly embarrassing,” Beatrice began tentatively.
“You can tell us anything,” Lola offered hurriedly. “We’re family.”
Beatrice nodded contemplatively, placing her white teeth across her lower lip. “I’ve given my life to my naturopathy practice up in Boston. A few months ago, I parted ways with my long-time partner and closed the practice. In the wake of that closure, I haven’t known quite what to do with myself. So, I applied to work as a naturopathy doctor at the Katama Lodge here on Martha’s Vineyard. I’m so excited at the prospect of living out my last few decades just a little ways away from the both of you.”
Lola, who adored the Katama Lodge and Wellness Spa and the very kind Remington-Grimson-Potter women who worked there, pressed a hand over her heart at the idea.
“I didn’t want to tell you that I had this interview,” Beatrice continued sheepishly. “I have this idea that if you say what you want too loudly to other people, you’ll curse yourself and make it not come true. I guess I’m a tad superstitious.”
“Oh, Aunt Beatrice. You would be fantastic at the Katama Lodge.” Tommy’s voice was tender, like an adoring father.
“Yes, well. The interview is slated for tomorrow!” Beatrice explained. “I don’t suppose I’m in any shape to go talk to Janine Grimson about my current health beliefs. Not with a million slashes across my arms and legs.”
Lola bristled, surprised again at the contrast between this woman’s injuries and the brightness of her personality.
“What happened exactly?” Lola asked finally.
“Gosh, I don’t know. The accident is a blur for me,” Beatrice continued. “I remember I was driving out on State Road. And after that, it’s a blank.” She snapped her fingers to illustrate how quickly it had gone.
“We’re pretty sure that my niece and her boyfriend were involved in the crash, as well,” Lola explained timidly. “And they reported that the person responsible for the accident drove away from the scene of the crash.”
Beatrice’s lips formed a round O. She eyed Tommy, incredulous, as her fourth finger twitched against her leg. “Some people just don’t know how to live in the world, do they?”
Tommy shook his head and dropped his eyes to the ground as though he was too heavy with guilt to deal with it.
“Well, whatever it is they’re going through right now, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” Beatrice sounded after that. “The guilt of running away from an accident! Can you imagine?”
Lola couldn’t help but smile. What a surprising thing to say; what a beautiful perspective. Beatrice deserved to be back out in the world, ready to pass on the intricate details of her naturopathy degree and to heal the souls of Martha’s Vineyard, one guest after another. As soon as she got out of that bed, that is.