If for Any Reason (Nantucket Love Story #1) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,68
hand.
“You and me, kid,” her mom said.
Emily’s eleven-year-old mind spun through scenarios of what could’ve gone wrong between her mom and her grandparents, but she couldn’t think of anything that would cause her mom to flee the cottage in the middle of the night.
What happened next was still a blur. It was so dark, and the roads were so slick.
Later, in the hospital, she remembered one of the officers telling Grandma and GrandPop that Isabelle had tried to take a turn at too high a speed and slid into a large beech tree. She’d died instantly, the policeman said, as if that was supposed to comfort them.
The impact had thrown Emily sideways, and she hit her head on the window and was knocked unconscious. She remembered nothing after taking her mother’s hand, only waking up in the hospital.
Emily closed her eyes. She hadn’t let herself relive that moment in a very long time. For years after the accident, she’d have nightmares where she had to experience those moments over and over again. But she’d found a way to bury them and had been unwilling to dig them up, even for the sake of her craft.
Some memories were best left buried.
She opened her eyes and reread the words on the page.
The single-car crash, which happened just after midnight on Cliff Road near North Liberty Road, resulted in the death of Isabelle Ackerman, daughter of Alan and Eliza Ackerman.
Cliff Road.
Emily couldn’t remember where they’d gone. She’d been too upset when they left. She’d been begging her mother to explain, not paying attention to street signs.
But her grandmother had told her the accident was on ’Sconset, at the opposite end of the island. Emily wasn’t a mother, but even she knew that wasn’t the kind of detail a mother forgets.
So why had Grandma lied about the location of the accident?
Emily ran a finger over the words: Cliff Road.
That same curiosity about the past that had led her to open the scrapbook in the first place was back.
“Where were you going that night, Mom?” she whispered. And why so many secrets?
The questions nagged, sparking more questions. How was she supposed to walk away from any of this now, without answers to any of them?
She picked up her phone, found her grandma’s name in her contacts, and pressed Call.
Grandma answered on the first ring. “Well, finally.”
“I know I haven’t been around, Grandma. I’m sorry.”
“How’s the island?”
“It’s good,” she said.
“You’re finding ways to keep busy?”
“Yes, there’s plenty to do.” She knew Grandma would want details, but she didn’t want to share them yet. She didn’t want Grandma to know she was directing a show at the arts center or that she’d reconnected with Hollis.
Or that she was having a really, really hard time here.
“Well, I hope you’re not doing the work in the house yourself. There’s plenty of money to hire it all out. Have you found some good help?”
“Yeah, I have, actually,” Emily said. “Actually, Grandma, I have a question for you.”
“All right.”
Emily took a deep breath and almost chickened out. They didn’t talk about the accident. Ever. It was as if the conversation had been marked “off-limits” years ago and everyone obeyed the silent order.
But didn’t Emily have a right to know?
“I read an old newspaper article today,” she said. “It was about Mom.”
She was met with silence on the other end.
“I just wanted to double-check something.”
“Emily, some things are better left in the past.” Grandma sounded irritated.
“I know, Grandma, but can you just tell me where the accident happened?”
“Where?”
“Like, where on the island?”
Grandma sighed. “I suppose you were bound to ask questions, being back in Nantucket,” she said. “She was on her way to ’Sconset. The accident was there.”
“But why was she going to ’Sconset?”
“She had a friend who lived over there. Her name was Shae something-or-other. She was a few years older than your mother.”
“But why so late at night?” Emily asked. “And why take me with her?”
“Your mother was always impulsive, Emily,” she said. “You know this already.”
“The article said the accident happened on Cliff Road,” Emily said.
A pause went on for several seconds.
“Grandma?”
“That newspaper was notorious for getting details wrong,” Grandma said. “They don’t have the same quality journalists we have here in Boston. It must’ve been a mistake. I remember having a whole conversation with the police officer about this. Now, if there’s nothing else, I should go. I’m hosting bridge club tonight.”