FOR THREE DAYS, IT DID NOTHING BUT RAIN, a hard, cleansing downpour from clouds piled like oyster shells,
thick white and luminous gray. The runoff penetrated every cranny of Liz‟s house and leaked under the duct tape holding her
broken window together. The chill permeated her bones. The smell of loam and moss and pine was everywhere. Rain splashed
in the road like a river, collecting in puddles on the saturated ground, driving the tourists to the mainland and the islanders to
the clinic for every twinge and sniffle aggravated by the creeping damp.
Liz advised ibuprofen, saline rinses, and rest, and wished she had a home care remedy for the anarchy brewing in her heart
and head.
“How much time do you need?”
She wished she knew. Morgan‟s absence ached like a bruise. She had made him promise to stay away from them until she
had a chance to think, until she and Zack had a chance to talk, until she could figure out what was best for him and Emily.
But Zack seemed content to say nothing, to do nothing, to slide through the days and nights with as little fuss as possible,
as if ignoring the issue would make it go away.
Part of her was grateful for the respite after the stress of the past few years, the shock of the past few days. She found
herself a silent coconspirator in avoidance, doing her best to recapture the rhythm of their earlier life, making pancakes,
watching movies, playing Go Fish around the kitchen table as if everything were normal. As if Zack were normal. Hoping,
selfishly, that the simple family pleasures, the familiar family routines, would be enough to hold him when the time came.
She knew they would not hold Morgan.
Something had changed the last time they‟d made love. In him. In her. She felt it. But his words lay stark between them. “I
cannot promise you a future, Elizabeth . ”
She didn‟t need guarantees, no longer believed in happily-ever-after. But her children deserved stability. Security.
“Are you sure you don‟t want a ride to work?” she asked Zack at lunchtime on Tuesday.
He grinned. “I don‟t think a little water will hurt me, Mom. Unless you‟re worried I‟m going to grow gills on my way to
Wiley‟s.”
Her pulse bumped. “Very funny,” she said dryly. “Don‟t forget your jacket. You want me to pick you up?”
He accepted the jacket, shrugging into it as he opened the door. “No, I‟m good.”
“Zack . . .”
“Mom, I‟ve gotta go.” His gaze met hers briefly. “I‟ll be fine.”
Would he?
Her eyes blurred as she watched him jump down the porch steps and splash through the yard, a tall, skinny shadow in the
silver rain. At the bottom of their driveway, he slid out of the jacket, bundling it under his arm, turning his face to the sky.
His wet profile looked like Morgan‟s. Her breathing hitched.
She returned to the clinic to see her afternoon patients, an ache in her throat that had nothing to do with the rain.
At the end of the day, the sky had lightened, even if her mood hadn‟t.
“Bobby Kincaid called,” Nancy said as Liz retrieved her wet coat from the stand outside her office. “He should be able to
get to your car next week.”
“Did he tell you why it‟s taking so long to fix a simple broken window?”
Nancy shrugged. “We‟re on an island. It takes time to get parts. And the Kincaid boys were never worth a damn anyway.”
Liz sighed. “Fine. I‟ll call and schedule an appointment.”
At least the rain had stopped. She drove to the community center to pick up Emily.
Freed from the gym, the camp kids whooped and splashed on the playground. Em stood under the fort bridge with Nick,
inspecting something he‟d pulled from his pocket. A bead? A coin? The sight of her daughter‟s round, absorbed face sent a
surge of protective love through Liz‟s chest.
Regina climbed out of the white catering van parked at the curb. Liz raised a hand in tentative greeting, still slightly
embarrassed by the way she‟d unloaded on Regina a few days ago. She badly wanted another woman‟s support. But despite
their exclusive club membership, they hadn‟t known each other long.
Regina waved and hurried over, her brown eyes warm and concerned. “Dylan told me about the fire. You okay?”
“I‟m fine.” Liz summoned a smile. “Soggy.”
“Safe. That‟s the important thing. And at least it‟s over now.”