Page 131 of Spindrift

“Whathappened with Emilia?”

“I’mnot talking about this with you.”

“Isshe leaving?”

“Probably.I don’t know, Ma.”

“Whatdo you mean, you don’t know?”

“Imean I don’t know. That’s usually what people mean when they say that.”

“Didyou ask her to stay?”

“Ma.”

Shannonignored Morgan’s shout and waited for her to answer her question.

“No,I didn’t, and it isn’t any of your business.”

Toher horror, tears obscured her vision.

“Pullover.”

“Ican drive.”

“It’smy trailer. Pull over.”

Morganpulled to the side of the road, shaking from fury now, along with grief. Sheslammed her door as she crossed in front of the truck, only to get swept intoher mother’s embrace.

“Justpromise me you’re not running away from something good,” Shannon murmured asshe held her through her sobs.

Chapter Seventeen

No sign ofMorgan. Emilia swallowed her disappointment as she climbed into her skiff androwed out to the sailboat.It’s okay, she reminded herself. She wasstaying here. Morgan would turn up eventually, and today she had something elseshe needed to do.

Abrisk wind pushed her out of the cove and into the harbor. Sailboats dotted thehorizon. She couldn’t have asked for better weather, and she grinned as theboat keeled. Spindrift drenched her as she made her way into deeper water.Pulling more tightly on the jib sheet, she increased the angle of the keeluntil the boat flew over the swells. Leaving Nell behind had definitely beenthe right choice; the dog would have hated this. Emilia, however, laughed asspray slapped her in the face. Off to port, a pod of porpoises swam parallel,racing with her across the sunlit sea.

Shesailed until her body ached and her hands were raw from the wet lines. Eveningbrought a lull to the wind. In the calm, she reached into her bag and took outthe small metal canister that held her father’s ashes. She had a larger urnwith the rest of her things back in Boston. This was what she’d brought forthis moment.

“Dad,”she said to the horizon. The next words wouldn’t come. He knew she missed him.He, better than anyone, knew about regret and missed opportunities and poorchoices. She opened the urn just as the wind ruffled the surface of the water.

Ashflew out over the Atlantic to mingle with the waves.

“Oneday at a time,” she said.

Nothingabout his death had changed. He was still gone, and the hole he’d left behindremained as large as ever, but she might be able to grow around it with enoughtime until the balance tipped in the other direction.

• • •

“Morgan?”

Threeweeks and two days after she’d left Emilia standing in a doorway—not that shewas counting—Morgan heard a familiar voice call her name from farther down thegrocery store aisle. She groaned. Of fucking course.

“Hi,”she said to Kate. She’d clearly come from a showing, judging by the skirt andblouse she wore although Morgan noted she’d changed into the pair of sandalsshe always kept in her car so that she could ditch her heels. Remembering thatdetail would have sent her reeling two months ago. Now it just made her tired.

“Jesus,you look awful. Are you okay?” Kate set her shopping basket down and took a fewsteps closer, pausing at a respectful distance as she peered into Morgan’sface.

Morganknew what she saw. Deep circles under bloodshot eyes. The clenched set of herjaw. Sleep, like Emilia, no longer shared Morgan’s bed.

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