She gave a light laugh and melted into him. “And I’m sorry you had to face a loaded gun tonight.”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s my job. Viv, you deserve time, space, respect, and freedom. Count on me for all of them.”
“Oh, Peter.” She slid her arms around him and hugged. “Just like the time you were the only one to come to my party and brought root beer. I can always count on you.”
He leaned back. “I won’t be at the celebration tomorrow,” he said. “We have a massive debriefing after tonight’s incident. Then I’m going to head back to Pensacola, talk to my boss and undo my job there, get my house on the market, and pull my life together. But I’ll be back in a month or two.”
“And I’ll be here. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise, Viv.”
With one more kiss on the top of her head, he stepped away and she stayed still, watching him drive off.
Part of her wanted to write a diary addendum—Peter loves me!—but another part of her wanted to just exhale the breath she’d been holding for decades, happily alone for now.
Had she ever been in this house completely alone before? Yes, but today felt different to Maggie as she roamed the empty space. Loneliness pressed on her heart.
She blamed the chaos of the morning’s preparations—good heavens, it was like they were getting ready for a State Funeral. There’d been so much fluttering about how to fit ten people on the boat, not to mention that infernal box they treated like the Ark of the Covenant.
But now, with all the Summer House residents gone to the marina for Artie’s watery send-off, the silence seemed heavier than usual.
So was Maggie’s guilt.
“Pffft.” She flicked away the unwelcome sensation as she poured herself some coffee, refusing to wallow in second-guessing. The decision was made—she would not, shecould notsit on a rocking boat in the blazing sun and cheerily toast a man who’d played a role in Roger’s arrest.
It didn’t matter what that role was or wasn’t—she couldn’tfaketender emotions for the guy.
She could tiptoe back into a relationship with Jo Ellen, yes. But fawn over Artie? No, that she would not do.
Splashing cream in her cup, she tried to forget the look of disappointment in Jo Ellen’s eyes when they said goodbye. Even Tessa had shot a few unkind looks her way, but then, Tessa had been acting weird since yesterday afternoon.
Honestly. What did they expect of her?
She stepped onto the deck, begrudgingly noting that they’d been given a perfect day to toss Artie into the Gulf.
But even before she took a sip, her stomach churned. Her whole chest, to be honest, felt tense and fluttery, like she’d made a very, very bad decision.
Guilt and remorse and shame rose up like bile in her throat, refusing to be ignored or go away.
“Oh, come now, Magnolia!” she chided. “You can’t…” Her whisper faded out when she noticed a man lingering at the end of the boardwalk.
Who was that?
They didn’t get too many passersby on this stretch of beach homes, and especially not men that old. Well, he was about her age—so notancient—but in decent shape and not falling over dead from the heat. Considering he was in khaki pants and a golf shirt, that was saying something.
He looked up at the house, so she dipped out of view by stepping back into the shadows of the deck. Oh, the looky-loos irritated her. Did they think they had every right to just stare at these houses?
Waiting a beat, she inched forward to see?—
What? He was on the boardwalk, coming closer with far too much purpose. Ofcoursethis would happen when she was here alone. When everyone and their brother, niece, and cousin just had to go out and pay homage to a man who’d?—
“Hello?”
She swore under her breath when she realized he’d seen her and called out.
She couldn’t hide now. Clearing her throat, she stepped to the railing. “Can I help you find your way off my private property, sir?”
“I know how to leave,” he said, taking off a baseball cap to reveal a thick head of white hair. “I’m looking for Peter McCarthy.”
