Page 39 of Return to Whitmore
Rather than force them to go all the way down the highway and use the exit that would take them the wrong way, the cop got in his car and led them a quarter of a mile to a median turnaround between the two sides of the highway. With his lights flashing, he drew them to the opposite side, where they were able to speed down a traffic-less road and all the way to the hospital. Too out of her mind to remember anything, Charlotte had written down the cop’s directions.
“He said they took them both to the hospital,” Kathy reminded her. “It’s good news.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure if that was good news. It meant neither of them had died at the crash site, but there was no knowing what had happened once they’d left it.
Charlotte and Kathy burst into the emergency room and up to the front desk. When the woman behind the counter asked about their relationship to the men in the accident, Charlotte said, “One is my husband, and one is my brother.” Kathy didn’t flinch. She thought Charlotte was lying, which had to be okay. To add to the lie, Charlotte said Kathy was her sister.
They were told that one of the men was in surgery and one was resting in a room on another floor. They weren’t told which. A nurse came to guide them to the other floor, and all the way, Charlotte shook with fear, unsure which of the men she wanted to be waiting for her on the other side. If it were Ralph, she would throw herself on him and cover him with kisses and say, “Let’s get married tomorrow!” If it were Jack, she would scream with relief. He couldn’t die on her twice!
Kathy sensed her hesitance and took her hand. “It’s going to be all right.”
It was a nightmare scenario, Charlotte knew. It was something she’d have to come to terms with for the rest of her life.
Like the unbreakable man he was, Jack waited for them in the hospital bed, one of his legs in a cast and one of his arms wrapped up in tight bandages. There were scratches on his face and a greenish tint to his cheeks. But he was almost fully intact. Charlotte took a breath and wrapped her arms around him.
“What happened?” she whispered.
Jack shook his head. He couldn’t meet her eyes.
Charlotte leaned back and tried to read his mind, a difficult task after years of lying and not understanding the Whitmores or what they wanted from one another. It was clear that Jack had no plans to tell her what happened, why the accident had occurred, and, for Charlotte, there seemed to be only one reason. It had been Jack’s fault. An icy feeling came over her heart, and she sat down and cupped her knees.
Kathy did better with him, at least at first. “I can’t believe you’re all right.”
Jack flared his nostrils. “I couldn’t believe we were flying through the air like that.”
Charlotte remembered how Kathy had spoken about Jack and Ralph, driving too fast and listening to music. Had they been so reckless the entire way?
“How are the people in the other car?” Jack asked.
“We don’t know,” Kathy said. “We only know about you.”
“And Ralph?”
Charlotte’s voice was harder than she’d planned. “He’s in surgery.”
Jack’s face grew shadowed with horror.
Charlotte couldn’t remain in Jack’s room for long. Her heart was beating at irregular intervals. She genuinely felt she was going insane. Eventually, she and Kathy went to the waitingroom, where they sat, holding hands, for the next two hours. It felt like years before someone came to tell them that Ralph would maybe never walk again. Charlotte was stricken. Half stumbling down the hall to meet her love, she prepared herself for the worst. And when she turned the corner to find him, she saw unfocused eyes that seemed to look at her as though she were a stranger.
Chapter Seventeen
Summer 2025
It was during that first official “date” in their secret spot, their first meeting as forty-something adults with so much history behind them, that Vincent mentioned all the gossip that still swirled around Nantucket, gossip about the Whitmores and their secrets and their treasure. They were walking post-picnic along the beach, their sandals off and their toes in the water. At some point during their conversation, Charlotte could half imagine that they were seventeen again, biding time till their parents demanded they come home.
“That treasure,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t even think it exists, but it’s caused so much trouble.” She told him about Nina’s soon-to-be ex-husband and how he basically married her to get to the bottom of it and steal it out from under her. In the process, he’d destroyed her life.
“Is that why you’re here with me today? You want the treasure?” she asked.
Vincent cackled, throwing his head back. “If there ever was a treasure, I’m pretty sure it was taken by pirates or something in the nineteenth century. The history of that old place is astounding. Thousands upon thousands of travelers of all makes and models have come in and out of the White Oak Lodge over the years, and probably half of them made their money stealing and swindling. But it’s funny that the treasure still captures our attention all these years later.”
Charlotte paused and wiggled her toes in the sand. She hadn’t yet told Vincent any of the heavy stuff from her past—not about the accident, Jack’s false name, or her suspicions that her father and Tio Angelo were still alive.Suspicions do not make facts, she thought.
“Are you leaving the island any time soon?” Vincent asked, his voice wavering. It was as though he suspected her to dart out of his life at a moment’s notice.
Charlotte raised her head and looked him in the eye. “No,” she said. “I have no plans to leave. My time in the city is over and done with. I can focus here.” She swallowed. It was almost the truth.
Vincent was quiet for a moment. “You know, I never understood why that White Oak Lodge was never reopened.”
