Keeper of the Light

“She’s my best friend’s mother,” Lacey said. “I think she wants to be my mother, too.”

“You mean…marry your father?”

“Exactly.”

“Would you like that?”

“Yeah, about as much as I’d like to die in a stampede of elephants.”

Olivia laughed.

Lacey drew little circles in one corner of her homework paper. “I don’t think my father will ever get married again.”

“No?”

Lacey shook her head. “He loved my mom too much.”

Olivia looked up at the row of dolls. They were a little spooky-looking, with their huge, watchful eyes. “It’s nice you have all these dolls to help you remember her,” she said. “Do you have a favorite?”

Lacey stood up and walked over to the other side of the room to take one of the dolls—a beautiful black-haired toddler—down from the shelf. She plopped back on the bed and set the doll in Olivia’s lap just as they heard a car pull into the driveway.

“Dad’s home,” Lacey said, but she didn’t move from Olivia’s side.

“Olivia?” Alec called from the den.

“We’re up here,” she and Lacey chorused, and Lacey giggled.

They heard him climb the stairs and then he appeared in the doorway, unable to mask his surprise at finding the two of them looking like lifelong buddies, Lacey clutching her biology book, Olivia with the raven-haired doll in her lap.

“Well… Hello.” He smiled.

“How’s the dog?” Olivia stood up. “She’ll survive.”

“Olivia helped me with my homework.”

“And Nola stopped by with a pie for you,” Olivia said. She had a pleasant sense of belonging in this house, standing there in bare feet, a welcome guest in the bedroom of Alec’s daughter. “It’s your favorite,” she said. “Strawberry rhubarb.”

“She worked her fingers down to bloody stumps hulling those strawberries just for you, Dad.”

“Don’t be catty, Lacey,” Alec said, but there was laughter behind his smile. He looked at Olivia. “Want some pie?”

“Yes.” Lacey jumped up from her bed. “I’ll go cut it.”

Alec looked after Lacey as she raced out of the room and down the stairs. He turned to Olivia. “She’s acting like a human being,” he said. He ran his fingers down her arm and squeezed her hand before letting go. “What did you do?”

Olivia’s mood was light on the way home. She was humming when she pulled into her driveway, smiling as she walked up the front steps. But she nearly stumbled over an enormous floral arrangement sitting on the deck. The fragrance of the flowers filled her head as she knelt down to read the card propped up against the vase.Wish you were here so I could give these to you in person. I love you, Liv,Paul

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The committee meeting was again at Alec’s. Paul would have preferred to meet almost anywhere else, but he supposed this was some sort of test to see if he could be in Annie’s home without succumbing to his memories again. He had given away two more of the panels that morning, leaving him with just the large one in his bedroom and a few smaller panels scattered throughout his house. This was probably the most difficult thing he would ever have to do in his life, but it was absolutely necessary. He couldn’t go on the way he’d been.

He’d watched Olivia on the news the night before. A reporter was interviewing her in front of the emergency room, discussing the shift in public opinion since Jonathan Cramer’s resignation and the publication of Alec’s letter in the Gazette.

“What we should learn from Ms. O’Neill’s case is how critical the need is for better emergency services in the Outer Banks,” Olivia said. “Whoever becomes director of the Kill Devil Hills Emergency Room should work toward that end.”

She looked very pretty, very sexy in her scrubs, and she sounded bright and in perfect command of the interview. Seeing her in that forum inspired him to write a poem about her—how long since he’d done that?—which he left in an envelope in her mailbox on his way to the meeting.

Now in Alec’s kitchen, he had a sense of deja vu. Alec was filling baskets with pretzels and popcorn, while Paul poured wine into glasses on a tray. Only this time, he intentionally avoided looking at the blue cloisonne horse on the shelf in front of him.

He glanced over at Alec. “Olivia mentioned that you and she had speaking engagements in Norfolk a few weeks ago.”

“Yes,” Alec said. He was taking napkins out of the cupboard above the sink. “She did a great job.”

“Thanks for writing that letter to the Gazette,” Paul said. “It’s really made a difference for her.”

“It was the least I could do.”

Paul tipped the bottle over another glass. “I know these last few months have been hell for Olivia,” he said. “I haven’t been much help to her. I have a lot of making up to do.”

Alec had started toward the living room with the baskets and napkins, but now he stopped and looked at Paul, a smile coming slowly to his lips. “Take good care of her, okay?” Then he looked past Paul’s head, and Paul turned